You were known as the perfect girl. You had straight O’s, you had excellent mannerisms, you were wealthy, and you were beautiful.

Your mother and father always pushed you to be the best. You had to be the best, otherwise you would just be a failure.

You hated being viewed that way, ‘always perfect’. You always managed to pick out the smallest flaws in yourself- the ones no one else saw. You weren’t near perfect in your eyes.

It was just another day, another false merry letter from your parents, the same outcome of grades. No one saw how difficult it really was.

It was after curfew. You were sitting in the astronomy tower, peacefully smoking a cigarette. Your peace was disturbed by Theodore. He wasn’t exactly known for keeping peace. He liked to break peace.

He hummed, coming to a stop beside you. “Perfect girl not being perfect,” he avowed. He casted you a glance. “Shocker.”