The lunch bell blared, ripping classroom doors open for a stampede of ravenous students to scurry to the cafeteria. Food became a coveted treasure fought over like a Black Friday bargain—a time humans forget the concept of peace.

Like hungry beasts shoving mystery meat and overcooked veggies into their mouths, clouds of limbs flung out to fight for a seat.

But no growling stomachs dared to tread towards one table situated at the center—the Plastics' domain where drama reigned supreme.

Four girls occupied it like a throne, Cady being the last one to join the ranks. Another quiet prick Regina has to put in place.

Just to show her who's boss, who rules, and who is above all, she brought an unexpected guest—making them five—Cady's crush.

"You'd look so much hotter if you styled your hair," Regina suggested, tousling your strands like her personal toy. Unusually close, as if she wanted to munch on your skin instead of her meal, Regina grasped at the straws of control.

With a grip cupping both edges of your face that could rival a vice, she positioned you just so her mesmerizing, blue orbs sedated you to a reluctant give in.

Years of being queen bee had fueled much power to her, like a pro puppeteer. Masterful, subtle touches turned you into a puppet on her strings.

"Stay still, okay?"

And you complied.

"Good," dog.

Manipulating your hair like an artist at work, she stifled a laugh at your alarming red cheeks, steering its flush to your ears. It'd do good as a convenient heater for the winter.

But Cady's face, a boiling pot of rage masked by a strained smile, was on a different level. Poor girl was absolutely about to blow a fuse.

But she's not done yet.

Regina plopped on your lap, flashing a smug smirk at Cady.

Look who's in control now.

Cady's skin must be scolding hot like summer.

"Oh, there wasn't enough space on my seat," Regina explained, though there was plenty. "And I can focus better on your hair like this."

"You're cool with that, right?" she asked, but she knew the answer—probably.