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Heather stared at the note in shock, fear striking her face. That note was horrendous, discriminating, awful.

Is that what people thought she would actually do if she commited?
Is that what people saw in her- all petty, all style, bling this and bling that?
Is that what people truly believed from her?

Heather stopped herself from crying out loud, from covering her mouth as her cheeks got soaked in hot, fat tears, and as she ran away in fear and shame to god-knows-where. Instead, she laughed at the note and crumpled it up, throwing it in the trash afar away.

"JD is such a bitch! He thinks he can just get rid of me? And that suicide note? Pathetic."

And it really was pathetic. Pathetic how people made judgements on how you look. Pathetic how society turned into needing the importance of wealth, of popularity, or of a banging body.

"Right?! I didn't believe him for a second that you had just left! I mean, what's so bad to leave behind?" Duke snarled.

Everything. All this drama, all this peculiar nonsense, this higharcy that no one ever needed in their lives, but there it was, and they living right in the middle of it.

"Right? I'm never leaving!" Heather said, laughing menacingly.

"I'm gonna tell that to Ram- he actually believed it! How gullible!"

Duke and Mcnamara grinned at eachother, going off to talk to Kurt and Ram for a second. Heather sat at the table, twirling her fork at the seemingly uneatable food in front of her, and it didn't help that it tasted like it too. She sat there, in proper posture and clothing- clothing her true deprived self by somewhat of a good cloak.

Nothing but good, that it was.

*** *** *** ***

That night that Heather reached home, she closed the door shakenly and slid down it, crying. She pulled off her signature red scrunchie, her red vest, her heels. Everything that gave her a sign of Heather Chandler.

Back at home, and only at home, she was Heather- the teenage girl that regretted for being who she was.

The seemingly-popular girl that in fact, didn't ever have any people to call true friends.

The girl, that deep inside, was drowning in her own sorrow and guilt, and encaged in bars of popularity and rules and limitations.