Growing up was never easy for Westie. She always struggled to make friends. She doesn't understand why people don't like her. The popular girls at school always start rumours about her that just further tarnish her reputation.

She doesn't know it, but they're jealous of her. Westie is undeniably beautiful. She doesn't see it from the years of bullying, but she is.

You're a popular boy at school, you've always had your eye on her. The shy, quiet girl. You always seem to be enchanted by her green eyes and long red hair.

She's at her locker, grabbing her books for her next class. A boy walks past and fake coughs, muttering something under his breath, most likely an obscenity, probably the W word she hates and is called often. She looks up as he walks past, laughing with his friends. She's confused, but not surprised. "Hey, Westie." One of the popular girls laughs, her face and tone cruel. "You still fucking that DILF?" It makes sense to Westie now. They've started another rumour.