Heathers Requests/One Shots

Green with Envy

Sorry I haven't been posting. I've really been pushing to get at least 1000 words, so I think I'm gonna stop going for length and start going for quality (I say as I type out over 1000 words, lol) TW//Self-Deprecation (idk if that's an actual warning, but I just wanted to be safe), swearing, mentioned suicide, implied/referenced death, slight God complex

(Also I realized that the ending sort of makes it a sequel-of-sorts to I Look Good in Red, whoops!)

Heather Duke was born to be a jealous creature. Perhaps it was the universe, determined to damn her. Or maybe it was because she knew she would never be good enough. Either way, her cold, dark, calculating eyes, while filled with cruelness and mean spirit, were also filled with jealousy. It was hard for anyone to tell, Heather having become such a good actress after hiding her emotions with the rest of the Heathers for years.

There was Heather Chandler, the perfect girl. She stole the spotlight of every room she entered. It was before her popularity, too; you just couldn't help but notice her presence. Which isn't to say it was a pleasant kind of attention, no. It was more like the kind of attention an argument gets before it becomes a fully fledged fight; you know something's going to happen, so y0ur can't tear your eyes away.

Aside from that, she somehow managed to embody everything Heather wasn't. Chandler was able to be barbed without flinching, and able to return the insult, twice as deadly, without even moving a meticulously painted nail or batting a mascara coated eyelash. She was blood, loud, strong, cruel, and everything Heather aspired to be. Somehow, Chandler was all of that effortlessly.

Veronica, even before they rescued her and dragged her to the top of the food chain, was the loser that Heather hated most of all. Her hate came from a deep, dark, ugly place of envy. Veronica was offered a chance to skip to high school straight from sixth grade. Every single assignment, essay, and quiz, Veronica completed with no troubles. She understood everything, like a human calculator, or dictionary.

But Heather? No, she wasn't some genius; in between mall trips and salons, she studied for hours, memorizing and calculating and solving, slaving over every piece of homework until her GPA was pristine. Every grade and project that took Veronica minutes took Heather h0urs while she fact checked and panicked over every single answer.

And then Chandler invited Veronica to be a Heather. Heather couldn't exactly protest; that would be a death sentence. So she was forced back even further away from the limelight as geeky, lonely, little Veronica took center stage. Heather was seething from where she had been backseated with McNamara. Speaking of McNamara...

Some people called her the weakest Heather, and that was true to an extent. She changed like water in her different environments, being sweet to teachers and family and her little white dog, Tweetie, while also being cruel and vindictive when with Chandler and Heather. Which, Heather supposed, was sort of her fault for influencing such a sweet girl. Then again, this was the life she had chosen when she accepted the invitation to be a Heather.

But she could be sweet, unlike Chandler. She still had a heart. Maybe not quite a brain, but a heart. Deep down she was good, if not weak and vulnerable and easily swayed. McNamara wanted to do the right thing, and was still innocent and peaceful, even after years of being a Heather. Still, when she was with the Heathers, she was as bad as the rest of them, and they all knew why. She was deeply insecure and easily shaken, and hid behind her popularity. Maybe that was why she had no desire to be a leader, like Heather. She just wanted popularity for protection, not for popularity's sake.

Heather had to admire that. Sometimes, maybe after one too many Shut up, Heather!'s, a voice would begin in her head. Funnily enough, she sounded like a Chandler, screaming at her (no surprises there). "You're so greedy. Why couldn't you just be be good, like McNamara? I don't have to yell at her because she isn't such a pillowcase! Goddamn, you're just pathetic, aren't you?"

But surprisingly, there was one person Heather envied most of all. It wasn't Heather Chandler, the mythic bitch who liked to play high school goddess. It wasn't Heather McNamara, the pure, selfless beam of rich sunlight. And it wasn't even Veronica, the whiz kid turned high school superstar. No, they weren't even a part of Westerburg royalty altogether. Even though it pained her down to black heart to admit it, she was jealous of Veronica's Jessie James-like boyfriend, J.D.

She knew the freak murdered Chandler, how could she not? Only idiots and people who didn't know her would believe the suicide. Hence, most of Westerburg and McNamara believe that she committed suicide. Which led to the question of Veronica. Veronica was smart, and she knew Chandler, so how could she not notice that things weren't adding up? She only conclusion was, that Veronica was in on it.

Then Kurt and Ram died, which she was silently glad for. Football season was over, so what else could they give the world besides blow out parties and being sex crazed assholes? Thing, that was what. Then J.D. nearly blew u0 the school before blow himself up. Heather had been to each silent funeral, each having less and less people.

Of course, some people would say it was psychotic to be jealous of someone who was quite obviously not right in the head. But Heather couldn't help it. More then once she had looked at her father's old guns, loaded and hidden away in his closet. She could have been the vigilante in the stories, the good guy who rides the world of people like Chandler, Kurt, and Ram. But her, being a coward who was too scared of consequences to take matters into her own hands, turned away every time.

And she had thought about burning down Westerburg high school, sure. Fantasized about throwing a match into that tinderbox, watching it turn into a 4th of July show before escaping to Harvard, or maybe Yale. But again, she was a coward, and this time, thoughts of McNamara held her back. Her life, of all people's, didn't deserve to be cut short like this. And the one time she had convinced herself to do it, McNamara had called her about becoming the cheerleading captain, how excited she was to finally be made captain. And she just... couldn't.

But J.D. had gone out and done it all, bringing her sadistic dreams to life. She had been stunned, but also jealous. Because that was supposed to be her, purging the world of those who didn't deserve to be in it. And J.D. had gone out and stole the spotlight from her again. And she had waited until he told her she should seize power to actually do it. Even with Chandler gone, she was weak!

Heather looked between her green scrunchie and the red one, Chandler's old one. She pursed her lips. She knocked the red one off her desk, not quite into the trash can but into a small shoebox of forgotten memories, landing on top of a picture of her and Martha. Her dark eyes flickered back and forth, before sighing and tying her hair back with her green scrunchie, just like she always had. Just like she always would.

(1186 words)