THE NORTHWEST POSSESSION | Gravity Falls [Dipcifica]

GRAVITY FALLS, OREGON
JUNE, 2016

The sight of all the vehicles outside her window alone made Pacifica consider bailing. There wasn't a car parked out front that didn't scream wealth. (Her parents had made sure of that—the servant parking lot was in the back of the house.) Each limo undoubtedly carried a party of her father's business partners from around the world, or worse, their hormonal sons.

She had returned from Greasy's in more than sufficient time to be preened and polished for her debut as the richest Barbie doll in the United States. Even though she had still been admonished by her mother for even leaving the house at all on such a big day, all things were going smoothly. Which meant Pacifica was closer than ever to the end of her natural life.

Pacifica sat stiffly at her vanity, staring blankly into her large mirror. Her makeup was flawless, painted on by professionals even though she was well versed in the art of eyeshadow. Pacifica's usual, preferred look—purple eyeshadow, mascara, and lip gloss—had been thrown completely out the window. Instead, she was entirely painted in formal shades of red.

Even though she had convinced her mother that she should pick out her own, purple dress, nothing would help the terrible feeling  in her stomach. In a half hour, all eyes would be on her. And if she messed up, they would all see it. She stared into her own, dark blue eyes. Was she really going to present herself to society as some prize for the highest bidder? Was she really going to be married in just over a year?

A knock sounded outside her door. Pacifica's foreboding thoughts dissipated, and she called out, "Come in."

Her mother wore a maroon gown that costed more than a couple cars out in the servant lot. Priscilla Northwest didn't mess around when it came to showing people up, after all. She wore a stern expression, saying, "This was in the mailbox for you, from my dimwit sister. Though I don't know why on Earth the servants didn't deliver it to you themselves."

Pacifica met her mother at the door and clasped an envelope in between her hands, her heart rate quickening. First, her terrible dream about Aunt Elise this morning, and now a letter from her? But she knew better than to open it in front of her mother. She tossed it onto her vanity, saying calmly, "Thank you, mother."

"We need to go over the rules for tonight, Pacifica." That was her mother's exciting new twist on the common, overused phrase 'you're welcome'. Priscilla continued, "You don't speak to any young man unless he comes to talk to you first. And when asked to dance, no matter by who, you always say?"

"Yes," Pacifica couldn't help the grumble that escaped from her mouth next. "Even if he's an eighty-year-old perv, because apparently that's still charming and socially acceptable."

"I mean it, Pacifica." Her mother said, her eyes narrowing. "None of your rebellious nonsense. If you mention that diner job of yours, your father will take away your car."

"I'll be good. I promise."

Priscilla's eyes softened. "Very well. You look lovely tonight, darling. Your father will call on you when it's time."

With that, Pacifica was left alone again. She couldn't keep the scowl off her face as she made her way back over to her vanity, muttering, "You look lovely tonight, darling. Yes, you can just buy me right up off the damn shelf."

Sitting down in front of the mirror, Pacifica tore open the letter her mother had delivered:

"Dear Pacifica,
I hope you are settling back into Gravity Falls okay. I'm sorry I couldn't be there.

I wanted to let you know my business in New York is going to be longer than expected. I don't know how long I'll have to stay here. Needless to say, I don't think you'll be able to come stay with me again in July like we planned. I'll keep you posted.