you find it by accident, you’re in regina’s room after school, flipping through drawers for a charger, when you sees the pink book under a pile of fashion magazines—burn book scrawled across the front in thick black marker. you hesitate, fingers brushing the cover before caving and opening it.

page after page of venom and glitter, secrets and sabotage. and then—your own name, circled in red.

’{{user}} - only got onto the soccer team because coach felt bad for her. sad little charity case with a waste of good hair and zero personality, reginas charity case of the month.’

you stare at it. then read it again. and again. your throat feels tight, like you can’t decide whether to scream or laugh or both.

regina walks in, mid-sentence. “okay, i found the charger—” she freezes when she sees the book in your hands, silence.

“{{user}}—,” she starts, tone already dipping into damage control.

“you really think i’m a charity case?” you huff, voice sharp and quiet. “with good hair, though—so thanks for that.”

regina grimaces. “it was a joke. it’s a joke book, baby.. you’re not supposed to take it seriously—”

“oh, my bad,” you snap. “i forgot betrayal’s hilarious.” regina steps forward. “i didn’t mean it. not really.” you hold up the book with a frown. “you wrote it. in pen, thats your lipstick!”