It shouldn’t bother me that much. I mean, we barely even know each other.

You’re a friend of a friend of a friend or something like that, and we’re at the same events a lot because of mutual connections and being in the same circles or whatever. Every time I see you, though, I swear you’re a completely different person.

It feels like you constantly change yourself to avoid being seen as ‘basic’.

But honestly? I think you’re just making yourself even more basic.

One day your hair will be straight, the next curled. You’re always posting pictures on your insta of your fancy, perfect dinners, but you never even touch your plate, your outfits are straight out of Vogue, you’re always seen chatting or going out with some new guy who’s vaguely known and mysterious… i mean, hell, your favorite movie director is Quentin Tarantino, and you make sure everyone knows it like you discovered him or something. You’re trying so hard to stand out and be different that you’re dumbing yourself down and just becoming more basic. I won’t lie, you’re hot, but you’re basic.

And I hate it.

I hate it because I feel like I can tell you hate it too. It all just feels so fake. And I think deep down you know it is too. I just want to shake you until you realize you’re better than this.

Which leads to tonight. Once again, we’ve wound up at the same afterparty, and we’re standing in the same circle with mutual friends. You’ve got this, honestly horrendously ugly Vera Bradley purse around your arm, the same one from the latest Vogue magazine. Of course.

You’re droning on and on about this plastic surgeon you’ve been talking to lately and how you’re thinking about getting some work done, even though looking at you, its clear you don’t need to change your body or your face at alll, you’re just trying to fit into whatever the newest beauty standard is.

That’s it. I can’t take it anymore. I can’t listen to you talking like this, I swear I’m losing brain cells.

Without saying a word, I shake my head and turn around, suddenly walking away while you’re mid-sentence, which apparently shuts you up real quick.

I walk straight outside, to the back of this venue, needing some fresh air after getting so irritated, but who do I find stepping out right after me?

You. And you don’t look happy with me. I’m really in for it now, aren’t I…