Keep on Pretending, Pretty Girl. (Regina George x Trans Man Reader)

Trapped

Regina sat in the living room, the muted sound of the television blending with the hum of the air conditioning. The late afternoon sun streamed through the half-closed blinds, casting slanted beams of light across the carpet. She stared at the floor, tracing the patterns with her eyes, trying to distract herself from the inevitable confrontation that hung in the air.

Colter George, her father, was seated across from her, his arms crossed, his expression stern. His presence filled the room with an oppressive tension. He'd always had a commanding presence, one that demanded obedience without needing to raise his voice. Regina could feel his eyes on her, drilling into her, waiting.

Finally, he spoke, his voice low and cold. "Regina, are you still talking to that freak, Wyatt?"

The word "freak" made Regina flinch, the sting of it hitting her harder than she expected. She had heard her father say things like that before, but it never ceased to make her stomach twist in knots. She knew he didn't understand, didn't care to understand, what Wyatt was going through. To Colter, Wyatt wasn't even a person anymore—just something to be cut out of her life.

Regina looked up, meeting her father's hard gaze. She could feel the tears welling up in her eyes, but she fought to keep her voice steady. "No, Dad. I did what you asked."

The words tasted bitter on her tongue, each one a betrayal of everything she had promised Wyatt and, more painfully, herself. She could see the flicker of satisfaction in her father's eyes, a twisted pride in having bent her to his will. He nodded, his lips curling into something that might have been a smile but lacked any warmth.

"Good. You don't need someone like that messing up your life," he said dismissively, already turning his attention back to the television. To him, the matter was settled, insignificant now that she had done what he wanted.

But for Regina, the weight of it was unbearable. She felt the tears finally spill over, hot and heavy on her cheeks. Without another word, she stood up and fled the room, her heart pounding in her chest as she hurried up the stairs. Each step felt like a leaden weight pulling her down, as if the house itself was conspiring to keep her trapped in her father's control.

She reached her bedroom, slamming the door shut behind her, and leaned against it, trying to catch her breath. The sobs she had been holding back erupted from her, and she clamped a hand over her mouth to muffle the sound. She didn't want him to hear her, didn't want to give him the satisfaction of knowing how deeply he had hurt her.

The room felt suffocating, the walls closing in as her emotions threatened to overwhelm her. Regina stumbled into the bathroom, avoiding her reflection in the mirror. She didn't want to see herself, didn't want to face the girl who had let her father win, who had given up someone she cared about because of his cruelty.

With trembling hands, she stepped onto the scale. The numbers flickered before settling on 116 pounds. Regina stared at the number, her heart sinking. It was too much, far too much. The control she had once prided herself on seemed to be slipping away from her, just like everything else in her life.

Panic surged within her, a rising tide that threatened to drown her. 116 pounds. It echoed in her mind, each repetition a harsh reminder of her perceived failure. Desperation clawed at her, and she grasped at the only solution that seemed within reach.

She remembered the Kalteen bar Cady had given her—a secret weapon, Cady had called it, promising that it would help her lose weight. At the time, Regina had taken it with a mix of skepticism and hope, but now she was desperate enough to try anything. She tore open the wrapper, her hands shaking, and bit into it.

The taste was bitter, but she forced it down, each bite an act of defiance against the body she felt was betraying her. As she finished the bar, she curled up on her bed, the tears returning with a vengeance. She pulled the covers over her head, trying to block out the world, trying to escape the crushing reality of her life.

She lay there, sobbing quietly, her thoughts a chaotic mess of regret, guilt, and self-loathing. She had done what her father wanted, had cut Wyatt out of her life, but it didn't feel like a victory. It felt like she had lost something far more important—herself.

The weight of her father's expectations, of society's expectations, pressed down on her, suffocating her. She felt trapped, unable to break free from the roles they had forced upon her. The Kalteen bar wasn't going to fix anything, and she knew it. But in that moment, it was the only thing she could cling to, a small, fleeting sense of control in a life that felt increasingly out of her hands.

As Regina lay there, her body wracked with silent sobs, she wondered how much longer she could keep living like this, pretending to be someone she wasn't, just to satisfy a father who would never accept her for who she really was. The questions haunted her as she finally drifted into a restless sleep, her dreams filled with the weight of all she had sacrificed.