𝑺 𝑬 𝑹 𝑬 𝑵 𝑰 𝑻 𝒀 (18+)

eight.

SERENITY

♥

Whether it be for my looks, my personality, or my intelligence people always gravitated towards me. The reason however was not as black and white as my younger self once thought. From K through twelve I went to a private institution for the best, the brightest, and the richest children in Seattle. I was named one of the most popular girls in school which turned out to be more of a burden than a blessing.

Popularity wasn't a meaningful title, most of my friendships were poisonous but those girls were once my confidants. We'd swap lunches, have sleepovers and tell family secrets, plotting to reveal them to others if one of us stepped out of line. We all had something to prove and we were all aiming to please. In our pre-pubescent jungle, loyalty meant nothing if it cost you popularity.

It got even worse in high school. Girls became young women and swapped jealous tattletales for vicious lies and slut-shaming. It was girls supporting girls until that said girl got a little more attention than you did, then all bets were off. Being a peer-appointed queen bee meant I had a constant target on my back. I had to learn to differentiate a fake smile from a genuine one, and kind words from condescending ones. I had to be mean enough to let others know I wasn't one to be messed with, and nice enough for my moral compass to maintain tranquility.

The boys didn't make my life any easier. They'd make up lies and rumors about me, masking their deceit with boyish charm. I was never sure if they actually liked me or liked that if they dropped my name, their friends immediately thought they were a God. By the time I hit senior year I had apparently given blowjobs to half my grade which was far from the truth.

It was more like a quarter.

I admit I was a bit of a vixen, but why was I the one who was being shamed for something so trivial?

Thankfully I had thick skin and that saved me during grade school. I could care less what people thought about me or what they said, which angered my peers even more. They'd never say it to my face however, and if they did it was tamed by their desire to stay on my good side.

One thing I couldn't understand though was why they spent so much time building me up, only to want to crush me once I'd reached my peak. Was it human nature to grow so jealous of something you created you felt you needed to destroy it?

Whether the attention was negative or positive I always received it and I never knew how attached I was to it until I met Noah Harrington. Pride was my undoing in our 'relationship' because out of everyone I'd ever met, he was the only one who didn't care to fawn over me or completely despise me. It was unknown and unwelcomed, as insane as it sounded. I had little to no effect on him and that bothered me beyond belief, was I not his type? Did he just not like me as a person? Or maybe he didn't care enough to form an opinion on me at all?

Validation. It was a flaw of mine, one I locked away for safekeeping. Whether it was conscious or not I thrived off of the approval of others because it was all I had ever known. People were always showering me with praises, was it truly my fault I began to expect it?

Maybe that was a question for my future therapist.

I was on my fourth drink preparing for a fifth when I noticed Mr. Harrington approach me. His glasses were gone, replaced by those lousy contacts. He was no longer relaxed with loose sweats and no shirt, he now wore a black long sleeve shirt with a pair of black dress pants to compliment. I gave him a side glance and buried my face in my glass, what was he doing here?

"Whiskey, neat please." He sat beside me and the bartender swiftly left his post to prepare his drink. The atmosphere was incredibly loud, but the silence between us was deafening. He looked uncomfortable, I could tell this wasn't his usual scene, by the way, he gripped his glass and scanned his surroundings. He was out of his element which meant one thing, he came here for me.