Up until that point, she'd been bought everything she ever wanted by her exceedingly indulgent father, a highly successful film producer, and her mother, an actress. An only child, she was spoiled to the point of indecency by her divorced parents (who shared custody), shuttled back and forth between her father's Caprica City penthouse and her mother's chic Aquarian beach home. She made the scene in fashion and entertainment news, famous for nothing more than being famous, wealthy and pretty and pointless. While at Caprica University, she met the very handsome and wealthy Theseus Reed, son of a former Quorum delegate. Theseus had all the right stuff — the family, the money, the brains, and the charm — for a brilliant future in politics. He proposed to Psyche a year after they met; she accepted, and immediately began designing her dress for the wedding of the century, to take place immediately after graduation.
Theseus kept putting off announcing the engagement, and Psyche — naive, in love, and not-too-bright — accepted his reasons for years. She wore her ring on a chain instead of on her finger, and when news of the couple's future plans leaked ot the press, they both made no comment. It turned out that Psyche's would-be in-laws, while tolerant and even a bit fond of their son's college fling, had other plans for Theseus. It had always been 'understood' between the Reeds and the Ageans, legendary financiers from Libran, that Theseus would make an excellent match for the Ageans' only daughter. These sorts of understandings among powerful families were nearly as binding as a Sagittaron birth betrothal, and while Theseus had always known… he sort of chose to ignore it. But that certainly didn't make it go away.
Finally, the night before he left for law school on Libran, Theseus broke the news. He was kind at first, but quickly became cold and even brutal, severing all communication without question or exception. Though the engagement itself had never quite made it out of the rumor mill, the break-up was as tawdry and public as a break-up could be. Pictures of Theseus and his new bride-to-be were all over the tabloids for months, with insets of Psyche's mascara-streaked or shades-hidden face.
As they did with every misfortune in Psyche's life, her parents coddled and pampered her during the crisis. But for Psyche, the fairy-tale that was her life had been irrevocably tarnished and shattered. She'd seen her life — and herself — through Theseus's eyes… or at least the eyes of his family. The words he'd used to drive the end home: Pointless. Vapid. Pathetic. She'd had to look the word 'vapid' up, but… he was right, wasn't he? Nothing she'd once loved — the parties, the premieres, the beach, shopping, dancing… she couldn't find joy in any of it. It wasn't just that her life meant nothing without Theseus, it's that her life meant nothing. And no one around her could understand the depth of her discontent, much less fix it.
It was in between re-runs of Caprica City Nights that Psyche saw the recruitment add for the Colonial Fleet, specifically featuring a dazzlingly heroic viper squadron (and they all had such good teeth!). Now THOSE were people who had a purpose, whose lives had meaning. Who did… you know… things. Dangerous, daring, important things. So she grabbed the remote and ordered up all the movies she'd never cared to see: Viper Vanguards I, II, and III; Behind Enemy Lines… just about anything that seemed to have to do with the military. She only really got through five films or so before her attention span gave out, but she was thoroughly impressed. After that, recruitment ads seemed to pop up everywhere — on the train, on billboards, like omens. Finally, her inner scale for subliminal suggestion having been well and truly tipped, Psyche marched herself into a Fleet recruiter's office, much to the baffled recruiter's chagrin. Yes, that was four years of Varsity Dance Squad on her resume. And yes, sir, she wanted to be a pilot.
