She is made of smeared makeup and daydreams—crying all the time because she can`t be somewhere else. She reads fictions about overly pretty boys, and paints her lips a bright rouge as she pretends to be one of their heroins. She can`t stand to be ordinary. She falls sick when life gets too real. She`s a dreamer, a seeker of magic, a tear soaked lover with no one to call her own.