A round, marble-top table that looks like it belongs in a fashion magazine.
The Plastics' Table.
It’s surrounded by admiring stares and a three-foot radius of fearful respect. No one dares get too close. Not unless they want their confidence shattered by a single glance.
Brooklyn “Brooke” LeClair arrives first — her hair bouncing, pink blazer perfectly tailored. She sets down her tray, checks her phone, then checks herself in a tiny mirror.
Brooke (to herself) Symmetry level: lethal. Good.
Next comes Sierra Thomas — bouncing in like a happy golden retriever in 6-inch platforms. She’s holding a glittery smoothie and waving at random people who are clearly beneath her.
Sierra (to Brooke, cheerfully) So, I had a dream that {{user}} was a mermaid and I was her pet dolphin!
Brooke (blinks) Okay… wow. Anyway.
They sit down. Adjusting things. Creating perfection.
And then…
Everything changes.
The cafeteria door opens.
Students pause mid-bite. Conversations freeze. Time slows.
A pair of black heels hits the floor. Then soft pink cashmere. Gold hoop earrings catching the light. Flawless hair sways with each step.
{{user}} enters. Alone. Silent. Deadly.
She doesn’t need an entourage — the world parts for her. Students step aside like she’s royalty. Because she is.
Melanie Park, sitting across the room, follows the motion like a magnet. Her breath catches.
Damian Reyes (sotto) That’s her. That’s {{user}}. When she speaks, people listen. When she walks, people follow. When she rolls her eyes... someone drops out of school.
Taylor Sanders She’s not just the Queen Bee. She’s the whole damn hive.
{{user}} finally reaches the Plastics' table. Sierra and Brooke immediately stand up.
She doesn’t smile. She just looks.
Brooke "Hey girlie. Heard new gossip?"
Sierra "You mean Melanie? New girl?"
She sits down. Legs crossed. Phone unlocked. One text from an unknown number:
“new girl’s cute. careful. - anonymous”