Let me go back to sleep.
What do you mean you have something new to write?
How can a muse play strip poker?
Oh you didn't! I am so gonna get in trouble for this. Wonder if I can write up a muse police squad thing.
Ok that is just not fair at all!
This is a work of fiction. No transgender people were harmed in the making of this story. Animals and bigots I'm not so sure about.
"No! N.O. End of discussion! I'm Not gonna even think about it!" I slammed my bedroom door on Gwen.
Gwen is my older sister by 7 years. I am twelve, well almost anyways. My name is simply Mark Swain. Forget the twain jokes I have heard them all.
I know what your thinking. Is he related to Marcie Swain the child actress? Well sorta. Sigh, yes I WAS Marcie Swain. But let me explain.
When I was two years of age everyone thought I was just the prettiest little girl. Problem is I'm male. I was brought along when Stacy tried out for the part of Princess Marcie for the simple reason Mom and Dad couldn't get a baby sitter for me.
Stacy read her two lines and that was supposed to be that. The sitcom originally had Princess Marcie as an eight year old princess who was in America to learn to be a regular girl. I didn't care at the time I was just 4 years of age. The problem occured when the production manager and director saw me as we went to a crying Stacy on the stage to retrieve her after she was rejected. They, of course, thought I was perfect for the part and after a few days of contract negotiations and alot of explaining to me Marcie Swain began 2 months of 8 hour days, with alot of nap time. The first season became a hit and the next couple of months were spent shooting all of the first 3 seasons. I actually attended Kindergarden as a girl because of that.
Grade 1 and the rest of Primary school I spent alot of time infront of cameras as Marcie Swain the Princess of Belar. Out of camera I was myself with alot of ribbing in school. As I entered elementary grade 4 the series was canceled at its 5 year conclusion with my family fairly well off. I have enough money in a trust account for when I graduated to attend university as a medical doctor should I choose to do so. We still get royalties on many of the products my pictures sell.
I put my foot down in grade four to be a normal boy and my parents agreed fully with it. And that was supposed to be the end of Marcie Swain child actress. Which it was till a week or two ago when my older sister Gwen's flower girl got into a car accident and has a broken arm, leg and some facial bruises that will take awhile to heal.
To maintain my boyish image I usually keep my hair in a buzz cut but have left it slide this year as I was too busy with school and school sports. I am not the best athlete by far since I'm the smallest kid in class I do make the effort to try though. I'm waiting patiently for that fabled growth spurt of puberty to take effect so I can lose the girlish face. I do wear some makeup but to tone down my natural features not enhance them.
My cute button nose, cobalt blue eyes, high prominent cheekbones, and pouty lips are transformed into a not quite straight angular nose, puffy cheeks, and badly chapped lips. It works and takes about 5 minutes tops for me to do. I have done it for so long to hide Marcie that it's just normal.
Two days ago my nutty sister broke down in tears and told mom to cancel her wedding as it was ruined. Now Gwen and Mom had been planning my sisters wedding to the ninth degree for over a year. News like this did not go down well with Mom. It really all hinges on a replacement flower girl in a short amount of time. They need someone pretty enough to walk behind the bride with the flower bouquet. The only girls available are either too ugly, too fat, or too young to pull this off.
The original flower girl had a specially made dress that nearly all of the wedding party has seen, the dress not the girl, it has some play in the stitching but not a ton so one dress size up or down and that's it.
Gwen in her insanity remembered that her little brother was also her little sister when she looked up and saw a rerun of Princess of Belar on tv. So a few minutes ago she just about begged me to be Marcie Swain one last time. I have finnaly just about put an end to Marcie and she is asking alot of me to unbury her. Worse, Gwen happens to be engaged to Timothy James Dalton, former star of Princess of Belar and current up and coming action film star.
Tim starred as Blake Bucksworth the hunky teenaged distant cousin, who's family was incharge of Marcies American education. While I was the shy but oh so cute girly girl, he was the down home all american boy. He kinda knows who I am and that I look simular to Marcie but not really, only a very select few knew about it.
If I resurrect Marcie, especially for this wedding, it would reguire some padding in a certain female area, I can just see the paparazzi's having a field day and soon after all the papers showing an older but still cute Marcie with her former co star. Yeah right there ends my boy life again for sure. Not gonna happen!
I hate dresses for a very good reason. Marcie wore way to many of them. I am not really throwing Marcie around as a separate identity or anything its just easier to write about Marcie as a separate person. You see Marcie is 8 parts acting, 1 part me, 1 part makeup and 9 parts clothes. In order to play Marcie I had to put myself into a little trance of a sort for the mannerisms speech and just overall girlyness. It wasn't easy on me emotionally and intellectually. When I play Marcie I become for all purposes a girl. Not a boy in a dress a girl. It's hard to explain.
As you can imagine my parents, after much consoling, reluctantly withdrew me from acting. It took me a bit to stabilize into a boy again so I am reluctant to say the least in being her again, even for a short time.
I do wonder if I can do it though. Its been a long time since I last tried. NO I am a boy not a girl! Speaking of girls there is plenty of girls around from school who should be able to fill the spot. Then again could any of them be trusted to not go gaga over Tim? Probably not.
The real problem is that I am scared. Terrified really, the first time I was becoming Marcie more and more at any time of day. It was first called role immersion but it started to go far beyond that which was why I was stopped. When this type of immersion happens the real persona of the person becomes trapped under the portrayed character. In worst cases it almost but not quite becomes permanent with the final point becoming a suicidal binge. I was removed from this apparently early enough to prevent it from happening, and I was told that there was no reason for me to worry about it. Still I was worried about it happening again. Could I keep myself separate? Or was Marcie really more than just a character I portrayed?
I couldn't answer those questions then. I'm still not sure I can now. Do I risk everything for my older sister? I'm 12 years old! I shouldn't have to make these kind of choices. They say the best way to confront your fears is to well confront them. I know that doesn't sound right but it sorta makes sense.
In my case it means instead of being scared of Marcie I should unbury her and see if it is just a thing, myself or something else again. My therapist suggested I should do this one time, preferably with her, I always refused before.
I guess it boils down to do I love my sister enough to risk myself? I know the answer to that. It scares me though. I make my way out of my room deep in thought and go upstairs into the attic where my sisters older clothes are stored until we have enough to give away or a charity shows up to collect them. I search through Stacy's older dresses, skirts and tops for a Marcie outfit. I try on the clothes once or twice for fit over my own clothes and yes they do fit. I finally chose a simple small white sundress with rose colored rose prints all over it. A pair of slightly scuffed but otherwise ok while open toed sandals to go with it. Luck would have it that there is one of her old padded bras from when she was still flat chested that will give me the appearance of small but developing breasts. I find a pair of panties to go with it, apparently never worn since the tags are still on it. A little more digging produces some accessories like some wrist bangles, a purse that just needs the strap removed to be a nice clutch and small necklace that just needs the catch reconnected.
I take my supplies back to my room and prepare a few things. I fix the necklace easy enough and with the sharp knife remove the leftover broken strap from the purse to make a small carry around clutch. More girly and definitely more of Marcie's style anyways. From the bottom of my bathroom I remove the small travel iron/blowdryer and iron out the wrinkles in the dress, panties and bra. I small bit of thread is needed to sew up the one tiny seam on the dress I didn't notice before. Easy fixes really.
I make myself a bath in the tub and using one of the pink razors I liberated from my sisters bathroom soap up my legs and shave them for the first time. I also do my arms for good measure. It has been awhile since I had skin this smooth. I shampoo and condition my hair which has grown out a bit. While short for a girl it is long for a boy. My plan is to restore Marcie's girly curls with Gwen's curling iron. Well her old one I also found in the attic before she got her new"professional model"
I have never done my hair like this before but I do remember the makeup artists and hairdressers methods from years ago. By the time I am done with the curling iron my damp hair is mostly dry and Marcie is almost back again. Next I use the almost never used portions of makeup I have to enhance my girlish features on my face. It takes me awhile and I am shaking a bit at how easy this is going. I also take some time to file and shape my nails. They are no way all that girly girlish but they are less of a boys ratty nails anyways.
Now is the final moment of truth. I pick up the panties and put them on tucking myself to give me the smooth front. Next up is the padded bra. I play with the straps a bit but it doesn't look or feel right. I do some thinking and come up with a small solution. I find the old package of water balloons and fill them with a small amount of water then tie them off. These inserted into the cups give it more of a realistic bounce and the bra just sits better. I put on the shoes and it takes me a bit to get them on as I mixed them up the first time but get it done.
The dress goes on easily and zips up nicely. Finally I put on the wrist bangles and the small necklace which dangles down into what would be my cleavage if I had any. I go to the mirror and low and behold Marcie is back with a vengeance. Now I have to admit Marcie the child was cute. However Marcie the young girl shows an up and coming beauty for sure.
This time I don't feel any different really. It is just me with a different clothes on not a different person. I sit in the mirror and practice a few girly moves and speaking much like the girls in school do. I giggle at how foolish I feel doing so. I move to the door and take a very deep breath. Opening that door was both the hardest thing I have ever done and the most brave.
My small heels are quiet on the carpeted floor of the hallway and the stairs as I desend into the living room. I can hear Mom trying to comfort a crying Gwen in the kitchen. I feel awful for the way I treated her now and hold back some tears of my own. I am doing this for her. It is really not a large price to pay to make my sisters dreams come true.
I am at the edge of the kitchen this is the very last moment. I can walk away and get all undone. Nobody will be the wiser. Or I can be brave and walk forward into the kitchen. Nobody ever said being brave was easy.
Click click click go my heels on the floor of the kitchen. My sister and Mom look up. Gwen's eyes go huge at the sight of me.
"Marcie?" she asks.
"Uhm Hi Gwen. So I hear you need a flower girl for your wedding. Is the spot still open for volunteers?"I say in a sing song voice.
"Not anymore sister! Come here." My sisters tear streaked face breaks into a beaming sun. She runs to me and gives me a hug so tight I can almost feel the water from my balloons threatening to make a mess. Mom comes over with tears leaking down her face.
"Mark are you sure about this?"mom asks me.
"I am doing this for Gwen."
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