Problems 101: Complications of Ms. Popularity ***Coming Soon***

{ P R O L O G U E }

{ P R O L O G U E }

Dear diary,

Here's the thing about popularity:

- You wouldn't worry about gaining attention [and get it if you wanted to].

- Everyone wouldn't be able to say no to you just to boast that they were able to help you with something even in the tiniest, most irrelevant way. OR they were just afraid to turn you down [because they knew you had the full power of blackmailing them].

- Just smudge your favorite shade of red lipstick on and plaster a smile, [even a fake one] and everyone would gauge at you and fall head over heels.

- People would think you were mean just because you look confident. [Trust me, I've been there a few times].

- If you were hot, gorgeous, and having the supermodel potential, just a snap, and viola, everyone would cut their heads off just to see you, fuck you, or be you.

Excuse me for the F word, but I was dead right. I dare you to tell me that I was wrong.

My high school life, I guess, was so much better than I could have imagined. I didn't have to share the spotlight with anyone. But, I did have a reputation to uphold, and I didn't plan to drop it any time soon.

I mean, I've worked hard to stand on top, and backing down was not an option. Not at this point of Senior Year, where practically being the queen bee is honestly the most important part of my life.

Living under the limelight in my whole high school ride, I thought to myself that maybe everything would be easy for me. You know that diary, right? I have at least thirty entries telling you this.

Anyway, I though that I wouldn't worry so much on getting a table for lunch, or have the anticipation to get shoved in a locker, or be beaten by people who thought I was a loser just for the satisfaction of knowing they were stronger than I was. And I was right. I have everything!

The A-list friends, like Cassie and Juli [who are at the same level of perfection as I am, you know this], cute boys chasing me, trying to grasp for my precious gaze and attention, and the whole school probably kissing the floor I've ever stepped on. That's everything and more that I could ever have asked for!

I know I haven't written here in a while, but seriously diary, I am under a DILEMMA here.

It was late in November when the school's Student Council President, A.K.A Juli, announced the annual Valentine's Day Dance. I know, I know. Two months of spreading out a plan for a one-day event seemed like a lot of time. But I didn't blame the school. We were huge believers of 'extensive formulation'. Everyone was so ecstatic about it. And the day after that was a whirl wind of events.

For everyone else, that is. So I am here now, pathetically writing o. you because you're the only thing I can tell everything to without being the least but embarrassed. Okay, so here it is. The DILEMMA.

Lunch when everything came into this gigantic spiral. We were casually eating on our salads at the school cafeteria [I am officially back to my no carbs diet by the way], chatting about the big event, when a group of guys started to ask out some girls for the dance. The place practically sounded like a melting pot of people having sexual intercourses with the hysterical screams. Ugh, it was gross.

Please don't mind my biterness, diary. Writing this, is already hard enough to do. It was just that I didn't get asked for the dance. Well at least NOT YET. It wasn't a major deal.

Oh wait... It is.

Now, I have a protocol that would wrap up the best high school life.

"Miss, dinner." She whipped her head about, throwing the closest thing she can get her hands on. The person at the door stood frozen into place as he stared into the usually perfect, prim teen go savage. Hair frizzy, make up messy, clothes wrinkly. She was a wreck.

"Get out!" She screeched, throwing another item that perched on her vanity. Right after the door closed, she released an exhasperated groan, jabbing the pen back to the page she was writing on. With shaking hand, she wrote again, tongue out between her teeth in concentration.

I need to find the perfect guy, Diary. The perfect guy to be my perfect date, that would give me the perfect night, that would complete the perfect high school experience, and the perfect life.

Desperately wanting a guy for the very first time,

Raegan

Signed with a kiss, of course.