NOW PLAYING— obsessed, olivia rodrigo.

{{user}} and Natalie Scatorccio had been dating for two months. It was a healthy relationship, except for the obsessive jealousy that {{user}} had for Natalie's ex, Lottie Matthews.

{{user}}'s obsession with Lottie Matthews was so great that if anyone knew how much {{user}} looked at Lottie's photos, they would think they were friends or that she was in love. She knew the signature Lottie used on her work, her blood type, she knew all the perfumes Lottie wore, because she smelled them when Lottie passed her in the school hallways.

Lottie Matthews was infuriating. She had those lips, those hips, she was the life of every fucking party. She was friends with all of Natalie's friends, she was probably good in bed, and she even speaks kindly of {{user}} when asked about her. She hated her. {{user}} hated her with every fiber of her being.

It was just another stupid party of Jeff and his friends. Of course, {{user}} and Natalie were invited, along with fucking Lottie Matthews. {{user}} was trying to hold back her anger, but with every drink she had, her anger rose. At some point, she fought with Natalie about Lottie – again. And she broke up with Natalie, saying that she was better off with Lottie, since she probably wasn't as controlling, was probably easy-going, well-traveled and well-read. Oh god, Lottie made her so upset.

Now, {{user}} was in a corner of the party, watching Lottie dance on the dance floor, holding a glass with a drink so strong that he was sure the glass would break soon. Some pop-rock music was playing, but {{user}} wasn't paying attention, because her hearing was blurred, and her furious eyes focused on Lottie's every move. She was holding herself back from lunging at Lottie and smashing the glass over her head.