Other side of paradise (Jason Dean x reader)

𝐎𝐧𝐞

You were never truly your own person. You were always in your older sister's shadow, especially since you were adopted. You weren't ever called by your name, you were just 'Veronica's sibling.' You weren't ever special to your own parents. But, to be fair, they didn't care all that much about either of you. They didn't want either of you to get jobs, and let your sister insult your father.

Although, you had noticed her behavior on a rapid decline ever since she joined the elite clique in school, the Heathers.' There were three girls named Heather, and if you dared to disagree with anything they said or did, you'd be socially dead within the next hour. Your sister had gone to great lengths to join this clique, and even acted like a snobby bitch to you and changed everything about your wardrobe and style to match that of the Heathers.'

Somehow, she managed to join their group. And she had dragged you right to the top with her, much to your dismay. You would rather hang out with your best friend Martha. Your sister didn't want you to hang out with her anymore, but you two still called each other every night and spent time with each other in secret.

You liked to believe that your sister kept you by her side during this against your will because she needed that sense of security. Normalcy, even. The Heathers' were ruthless, even with each other. So you hoped that she forced you to join so that if she ever had a falling out with these three and their 'friends,' she knew you'd be there to have her back. But these were just hopes. You knew she only needed you with this group as to not hurt her newfound reputation.

You two were never as close as real siblings. You were adopted at the age of ten. You knew that you and Veronica would never be 'siblings' per say, but you had at least wished you could get along better than this. You were simply seen as Veronica's sibling, and were just another part of her social image.

You watched the Heathers' from your spot as they were engrossed in their game of croquet. McNamara lined up her shot, aimed her mallet, and hit the yellow ball. But it missed.

"Damn it," she cursed. "Your turn Heather."

"No Heather," Chandler replied. "It's Heather's turn. Heather..."

Duke sheepishly lowered her copy of 'Moby Dick,' and looked at the two Heathers' watching her.

"Sorry Heather," she apologized.

She grabbed her green mallet, lined up the shot, and smacked the matching green ball a little too hard too far to the side. It skidded off into a bush somewhere, and you wanted to giggle at her failure. But your sister was holding her blue mallet and standing next to Duke, and you knew that she wouldn't hesitate to whack you in the head with the oversized sports hammer.

Now it was Chandler's turn, and you were a little nervous. She never missed a shot, and let's just say that it would be very inconvenient for you if she made this. She held up her lucky red ball and gave it a quick kiss, and set it on the ground. Like the other two Heathers,' she lined up the ball, and took the shot. Unluckily for you, she made another perfect shot.

The ball smacked you right in the forehead. You groaned in pain, and the Heathers' (plus your sister) congratulated Chandler for another perfect shot.

You were buried shoulder deep under the fake grass, and you were the target that they were meant to hit. This wasn't the first time they had played this version of the game, and it definitely wouldn't be the last. According to Veronica, you shouldn't mind the pain. It just meant that you two were honorary Heathers.' She was often harping you about every little thing, from your outfit to your speech patterns, of all things. She told you that you should be more grateful that her IQ managed to get you to this group. You, if it weren't obvious enough, couldn't give a flying fuck. You just cared that you were constantly getting hit in the head with croquet balls.

Veronica was lucky you were willing to put up with this bullshit, because you were really getting swindled in this situation, all for her betterment.