Some people are born with talent. Some people are destined for greatness, and from the very second they're born they have it. Talent. Talent was beautiful. Oh, to be one in a million, able to go so far without even trying... She craved it. Fame. Celebrities. Money, fortune, love, hot tubs full of cash and a different car for every day of the week. She wanted it so bad. She got caught up in her head with a double life, another her, a person she wasn't. The person she wanted to be. Evangeline. Evangeline, Evangeline, Evangeline Evangeline Evangeline Evangeline Evangeline Evangeline EvangelineEvangelineEvangelineEvangeline EVANGELINE!!! She counted names to fall asleep, whispered names to calm herself down, wrote down names to reread when she got bored. Evangeline, Evangeline, Evangeline... She loved Evangeline. You could say she was her number one fan. She decorated her room like Evangeline's, she ate the food Evangeline ate, she spoke how Evangeline spoke. She got sick of hearing other celebrities on the news. She got sick of hearing about other people in general. The only person she cared about was Evangeline. She was beautiful. She had /talent./ Evangeline's fur was naturally sleek, shiny and gorgeous and smooth and everything she wanted to be. But her fur could only get that way through hours of grooming and cleaning and watching the food she ate. Evangeline's voice was everything beautiful at once, like doves and galaxies and the moon and the sun and grassy hills and fresh air and campfires and unicorns and love all collapsed into one angelic note. Compared to Evangeline, her voice was like a trash can full of children slowly being burned on a spit roaster. Well, on its own, her voice was... fine. Average. Normal. Nothing special. She hated it. Hated her looks. Her voice. She wasn't ugly, or gross, or disgusting. She just wasn't... /Perfect./ But Evangeline was. If Angie couldn't be Evangeline, she didn't even want to /be/.