Her name was Lain Alexandra, and while she loved it’s sheer elegance, it was always a bit too fairytale.

* * *


"So this is it? You're leaving?"
Lain pursed her lips at the uncertainty hanging limply in the air. Hard eyes stared at her in shock; Betsy had never expected her best friend of fourteen years to just up and leave. It was too spontaneous for the shy seamstress, too... adventurous for a girl who'd never been outside of their small town before.
Her messy ponytail bobbed as Lain nodded slowly, gently biting at her lower lip.
"And you're never coming back?"
Another nod.
"Why? You have an adorable shop set up in the busiest square in town!"
Lain sighed as she gestured to the setting around them. Shelves that once held beautifully sewn quilts were bare with longing; the manikin in the corner sat in shadows, forgotten.
Outside the shop a few people she didn't recognize walked by - they must have been tourists. There weren't a lot of them in the town of Beechwater. With a population of just under five hundred, most of the residents knew each other, and each others' families, and other things that Lain could have gone her life without knowing.

"You dream too big, Lain."
Lain rolled her eyes.
"I had a tiny shop in the rinky dink town of Beechwater, where no one is known by the outside world. I just want to be known, Betsy. I want people to come to my shop because they heard about it from their friends. I want a wonderful store with decorations and beauty and enough clients to offer sales!" Lain's voice was soft, but her bright eyes betrayed her tone. She had spent many a night dreaming of the day she could finally leave and start again and become something that no one in Beechwater had ever known - somebody.

"Oh shut up, Lain. You just want to go to the city and meet a nice boy and live happily ever after, don't you?"

Lain's eyes fluttered to the floor in a rush of mascara. But she was starting to feel a growing confidence now, and she rose from her chair to stare down at Betsy.
"I'm leaving." she strode across the floor, head high and shoulders back, her fingers digging into her pocket to feel the bus ticket that signified her freedom.

"You're just a small town girl who wants to meet a big city boy!" Betsy called harshly, crossing her arms over her chest in defiance and abandonment.
Lain put her hand on the door while turning around, pulling the bus ticket from her pocket.

"A bit fairytale, don't you think?" she asked sweetly, before pushing open the door and walking into the street, lit with newly found confidence and, just maybe, the hope for a fairytale ending.