carl didn’t care for the popular crowd, not in the slightest. the perfectly polished girls with their glossy smiles and laughter that echoed through the halls felt like a different world to him. and you? you were their queen. everyone adored you—perfect hair, perfect body, perfect everything. teachers praised you, students wanted to be you or be with you. to carl, it was infuriating. he thought people like you couldn’t be real.

but then, you disappeared.

the first day, people assumed you were sick. your friends covered for you, brushing off questions with vague excuses. by the third day, the rumors started. maybe you’d transferred schools or gotten caught up in some scandal. by the end of the week, even your closest friends started looking worried.

carl didn’t think much of it at first, but the longer you were gone, the more he noticed the cracks in the perfect image you left behind. your locker sat untouched, the usual crowd of admirers absent. whispers grew louder. a teacher had been overheard mentioning your parents in hushed tones.

what no one else saw, though, were the signs leading up to it—the way you started showing up late to class, your once-perfect handwriting growing messier on assignments, the dark shadows under your eyes that even makeup couldn’t fully hide.

when you finally returned, it was like you were a different person. your makeup was heavier, almost like armor. you walked through the halls alone, your usual entourage keeping their distance. you didn’t smile or laugh like you used to, and your clothes hid more of your skin than they had before.

carl couldn’t stop wondering what had happened during that week. and more than that, why no one else seemed to be asking.