Kylie hands me a sparkling, white pill and asks, Can you keep up? The fabric of reality, so sheer she can slice it with her dagger nails. We sit semi circled around the marbled table to eat our lunch. We sit quietly, taking a full five minutes to shake the shit out of our salads. So guys, Kim says. We need to talk about mom. I’m thinking that we should like, totally throw her a party because she lost five pounds. Khloe passes down the double-chin exerciser to me, the anchor of the relay. She says, Here, it’s your turn now. I’ve had one in my Amazon cart for three weeks. Kim tells me, You know, I know the most amazing doctor and he could, like, suck out the fat from your jaw line and totally inject it into your ass. I tell her, If I were going to do something like that, I would take it from boobs, Kim says, Oh my God I know, your tits are huge! We all laugh. Kris pours us white wine for breakfast. We sit outside to watch the sunrise. It’s 72 degrees and Kris says she is cold. I grab her a fur blanket. We sip our breakfast while her BlackBerry buzzes next to her iPhone. The doorbell rings. Kris asks me to get it. The security guard hands me a pre-inspected and approved package. Inside of the box, there is another box. Prettier. Velvet. Vuitton. As a gift, Kris has bought LV facemasks for everyone. Custom made, and collectively could pay off my student loan debt. After everyone complains that they wanted a different luxury brand, we prepare for a photo-op. I say, You don’t even leave the house. Khloe says, that’s not the point. We want to support wearing masks to the general public. Use our platform. Whenever Kourtney feels like crying she meditates at the far end of the yard. The thing that we have in common is we are both the oldest child. I tell them about the protests how we lay on the road for eight and a half minutes, cheek to concrete, hands behind our backs. I tell them that each time we’ve done this I cry. Kendall says, So, wait, like you actually lay in the street? Like where the cars drive? Yes, I say. Kim swipes through snapchat filters until she finds one that makes her chin even skinnier and her eyelashes longer. She says, I’m sorry but I wouldn’t do that. Like, my Yeezys are brand new. Kylie turns her glossy eyes to Kim and says, Yeah, there’s like cigarette butts in the street. I wouldn’t do that either, Kim. Kourtney’s vocal fry buzzes through the chatter, Kim, there’s people that are dying. Then she returns to her meditation corner along the thousand-something-dollar glass wall. You know what’s been so crazy, Kim says. Is I’ve been having, like, anxiety lately. She sits in her designer sweatpants reading TMZ while I coat Kourtney’s face in foundation. The hue is lighter than her skin tone and thick. Liquid prosthetic. Why? I ask Kim. I look back down, foundation turning facemask. Green. Gooey. I’ve gotten it in her hair. I’m sorry, I say. Kourt says, It’s okay. I didn’t really want to go out today anyways. I’ve corrected her grammar about the S at the end of anyway, but it never sticks. I’ve been hiding the pills between my lips and gums. When I agree to do an Ancestry DNA test with Khloe, she laughs, I literally thought you got botched lip injections. The pills scatter across the floor. She hands me a little pink pill and winks, These are better. The house feels alive when the windows are open. Kim tells me to close them because, Why would I pay to have this whole place air conditioned if you’re just going to open the windows? I say, Why would you put windows that open in your home if you never intend to open them? Kim takes this to heart. She sneaks around me for three to five years hiding blueprints and timberland boots. After the three-to-five-year period is up she brings me to her new house made mostly of marble, featuring windows that do not open. Kourt, Khloe, and Kendall go to the next protest with me. Sporting their LV masks. It took convincing because, You aren’t famous. You wouldn’t get it. Kendall refuses to lay down on the pavement. She throws a fit. Storms off. The camera crews follow her because this will make a good scene for the next season. I cry again, like I did before.
Off of the Deep End 