NoQS Agent Round: Mend

Title: MEND
Genre: Magical Realism
Word Count: 72,000

My MC and MA (main antagonist) are dressed as:

At an awkward Halloween party thrown by their mutual friend, Damien, Will would show up as Dorian Grey, portrait in hand and all. Will paints for a hobby and is changing into someone he doesn’t recognize or want to be, and so the character of Dorian would appeal to him. Genevieve would show up in a sexy mirror costume with a short skirt and lots of shine. She pushes herself to be on trend but thinks deeply about things. She’d reflect Will’s growing inner-monster back at him and attract the vain Dorian Grey to her side.

Query:

Second chances are complicated. Especially when your faults manifest on your skin.

When Genevieve finds out about her husband’s affair, she’s determined to stay strong inside, but outside, her body is breaking. Deep cracks divide her skin, splitting her hands and arms, creeping their way up to her face.

Will loves Genevieve but between his pill addiction, dying mother, and work layoffs, he buckles to life’s stresses. Dragon lips replace his smile, a beast snout covers his nose, and soulless black eyes bury his big, brown ones, turning him into a monster he doesn’t recognize.

Genevieve moves on, but she can’t ignore her lasting love for Will. They try to heal separately through therapy and the help of their friends. As they reconnect, Will’s grotesque features dissolve, revealing that beneath the monster he’s broken, just like her.

Together, they work to resolve their broken natures. But the pain of healing just might force their already brittle hearts and breaking bodies to crumble. In the end, the key to survival is discovering all they’ve ever needed is each other.

First 250:

Cracks web along my hands, flaking my skin into a labyrinth of dehydrated clay, like Death Valley Badlands. I lather pungent lotion—medicated, not the good-smelling kind—into a deep crevice slicing through the back of my hand. It’s like I’m breaking, splitting apart. I don’t know how to stop it. The lotion doesn’t touch the bone-deep cracks but seeps into the skin as if it has a thirst that can’t be satiated. I’m either diseased or delirious. With my pulse thumping in my ears and erratic breath stammering, the only possible conclusion is that I’m hallucinating.

I slide the shower curtain open and a billow of steam caresses my face. A welcoming escape. Maybe it’ll do me some good or at least help me to get to sleep. Though it isn’t likely.

A knock thumps on the bathroom door.

“Here’s a towel.” Alex opens the door enough to poke her hand through, slipping a plush red towel onto the stark-white counter. It misses its mark, slumping into the sink. “If you need anything, just holler.” The door wobbles as she hesitates to close it. “You’re going to be okay, you know. I know it doesn’t feel like it right now, but you’re strong. You’ll get through this.”

The last of piece of my soul has escaped through the cracks along with the energy to speak. Eventually, the door clicks shut.

A voice, like a distant echo, chants in my head, I’m not broken. I’m strong. I’m not broken. I’m strong.