The Invisible Life of Addie LaRue

by V.E. Schwab

Take a drink every time you hear a lie. You’re a great cook. (They say as you burn toast.) You’re so funny. (You’ve never told a joke.) You’re so … … handsome. … ambitious. … successful. … strong. (Are you drinking yet?) You’re so … … charming. … clever. … sexy. (Drink.) So confident. So shy. So mysterious. So open. You are impossible, a paradox, a collection at odds. You are everything to everyone. The son they never had. The friend they always wanted. A generous stranger. A successful son. A perfect gentleman. A perfect partner. A perfect … Perfect … (Drink.) They love your body. Your abs. Your laugh. The way you smell. The sound of your voice. They want you. (Not you.) They need you. (Not you.) They love you. (Not you.) You are whoever they want you to be. You are more than enough, because you are not real. You are perfect, because you don’t exist. (Not you.) (Never you.) They look at you and see whatever they want … Because they don’t see you at all.