Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Evan.

Dear Evan Hansen, today's going to be an amazing day, and here's why.

The text cursor blinked expectantly. Pressuring him.

Because today...

Today what? Would be another day to overthink every little thing? To feel ignored and unseen, even though at the same time it seems like everyone is staring at him waiting for the inevitable moment he messes something up? To have trouble listening to conversations or lectures because the beating of his own heart is too loud in his ears, ringing at the rhythm of his fast short breaths?

No, stay positive... it's what the doctor said, it's what your mom wants.

All you have to do is just be yourself. But also confident, that's important. And interesting, like, easy to talk to, approachable. But mostly be yourself, that's the big like- like that's number one. Be yourself. Also don't worry about your hands getting sweaty for no reason...

The boy kept writing, and even though it was supposed to help, he just kept finding more and more reasons why this wouldn't be such an amazing day. But the first day of school should be awesome. Because if it wasn't, what would the rest of the year look like...?

Before he found the answer to that question, his mom walked in, some crumbled bills in her hand.

"So you just decided not to eat last night?"

Evan looked over, his hands fidgeting.

"I wasn't hungry."

"You're a senior in High School, Evan, you need to be able to order food for yourself, you could even do it through an app now..."

He just sighed, not even wanting to bother explaining that he would still have to answer the door, and wait for the change, and how excruciatingly difficult that was. She wouldn't understand. The woman peeked at the laptop's screen.

"Oh you've been writing those letters to yourself?"

Evan quickly closed the laptop, nodding. He started getting ready for class, putting his shoes on.

"I started one, I'll finish it at school," he mumbled.

"Good! Those letters are important, honey! You can tell Doctor Sherman all about it this afternoon...and hey, I know! You can go around today and ask the other kids to sign your cast!"

He looked over at his covered broken arm, the white space a clean slate reminding him how empty his social life was. But maybe he could change that today. He forced a smile toward his mom.

"Perfect."

"I'm proud of you already!"

The boy gulped down his morning pills with the glass of water on his bedside table, said goodbye, and rushed to catch the bus, even though it was still early. But he didn't want to be late and seem like he was a mess, or get sweaty, or miss the first bell, then again being too early could also be awkward and...

His mom sighed and watched him go with a tired, but hopeful, smile.

Jeremy.

C-c-c c'mon c-c-c- c'mon, go go!

Jeremy groaned, half asleep, at the sound of his alarm. Not fully awake, his hand blindly reached out to try and find his phone to turn it off.

C-c-c c'mon c-c-c- c'mon, go go!

In his attempt, he accidentally knocked over his phone along with a not-suspicious-at-all-lotion-bottle, and they both crashed to the ground, the sound immediately stopping.

"Shit!" Jeremy bolted, picking his device from the floor, which was now all sticky from the spilled lotion. "Godammit."

He used his shirt to wipe it clean as best he could, though it seemed to be freaking out, turning on and off on its own. Why did things never go right for him? He didn't expect to be Robert De Niro in a movie where everything runs smoothly, but could at least some things go well? Joe Pesci levels of fine, maybe?

Getting up and preparing for class, he pondered if it'd be better to use the bus or walk, his stomach turning into a knot at the thought of both.

First day of junior taking the bus made him feel lame and exposed, but if he walked he would be all sweaty and reek by the time he got there... grunting, he grabbed his backpack and dashed out of the room, hoping that he wouldn't be too late to catch the bus.

"Agh, dad, put on some pants!" trying to ignore the unfortunate sight of his father in nothing but boxers and a robe, he didn't stop on his way out.

"Just pretend we're in the army!" the man called out, while brushing his teeth.

If we were in the army you wouldn't be allowed to run around in your underwear, he thought, shaking his head.

Afraid he would look weird running, the boy awkwardly power-walked his way to the bus stop, having to sprint as he turned around the last corner because the bus was already taking off. He managed to grab on just in time, stepping in and pretending he didn't see the irritated look the driver gave him.

He looked for a place to sit, and quickly found the one seat that wasn't taken, next to a kid he vaguely knew, because he was usually running away from everyone. He wore a blue striped shirt. Ethan, was it? Something like that.

Jeremy sat down, catching his breath still. He could feel his palms getting sweaty as well as his pits, well that's just fantastic, not like that was exactly what he was hoping to avoid or anything.

"Deep breaths are better than short ones when you're out of air," the boy next to him murmured, so quietly Jeremy first wasn't sure if he was talking to him. He wasn't even making eye contact. But he had to be addressing him, because everyone else around had their backs turned to them.

"Oh, uh-" He did as the other suggested, taking a couple of deep breaths, and soon felt his heart start to calm down. Then he looked back at the blue-shirt kid, offering a small smile. "Thanks. You're uh, in senior class right?"

This one nodded, gripping his backpack in his lap like he was holding on for dear life. Jeremy was quite familiar with anxiety and could easily recognize it, and worried he was making him uncomfortable, so to ease the pressure of having to do small talk, he put on his earbuds and played the first song that came up on his playlist, something about doing more than surviving.

It was so loud, he didn't hear, when they were arriving and the bus was stopping, the other kid asking him to sign his cast, then quickly scurrying away when he realized the other one couldn't hear him.

Connor.

The best spot in the school wasn't even in the school, exactly. It was behind it, in the parking lot, by a maintenance shed. All their favorite hangout needed was a brick wall, that hid them from the rest of the academy and at the same time acted as a comfortable support to rest their backs on while sitting on the ground.

Jason Dean was reading an old copy of The Flowers of Evil, while Connor Murphy, by his side, calmly smoked a joint, staring into the horizon, his mind filled with dazed thoughts. They usually didn't talk much, but they both enjoyed their quiet, accepting friendship in a world ruled by social demands neither of them ever agreed to follow.

"Wanna hit?" Connor offered.

JD didn't look up from his book, but a sideways smile curled his lip.

"I'm more of a slushy guy myself. 'Sides, rather keep my head clear, got to concentrate."

"Well, I gotta get through this stupid first day somehow," the other one replied, taking a drag, and coughing a bit after.

A ridiculously expensive pink car pulled up, and three girls stepped down in synchrony, as beautiful as they were deadly. Tailored outfits of the latest fashion all in different shades of pink, Bulgari sunglasses, designer bags, and rotting personalities. The Plastics.

They strut down towards the building proudly, one slightly in front of the others, an aura of power and authority around them, passing next to the two boys.

"Ew, I don't know if that's the weed smell or his own BO," Gretchen whispered as they walked past, but loud enough so she knew everyone would hear. The way she looked at the girl ahead as she said it clearly showed she was looking for approval with that comment.

"There's a difference?" Regina replied, and the three of them giggled.

Connor's expression darkened with painfully clear hurt. Both guys may have seemed calm on the surface, but while JD was like a frozen lake, Connor was more like a volcano, ready to erupt at any minute.

He jumped up, his hands clenched in fists.

"Stop laughing at me!" He yelled, his voice shaking with anger and sadness.

The girls glanced back, raising their eyebrows and smiling, and murmured something about him being crazy before walking off without a care in the world.

JD got up slowly, marking the page in his book before sliding it in his trench coat pocket.

"Don't worry about them," he said, seemingly unfazed both by the girls and his friend's reaction. "They're dinosaurs, all high and mighty, sure, 'kings of the world'... till they go extinct," he winked.

"Whatever." Connor shook his head and stormed off in the opposite direction.

He was so caught up in his thoughts, he didn't notice someone in his way until he bumped into them, his notebooks spilling on the ground. He heard a sound from the other kid that sounded very much like a laugh, and immediately glared at him with fire in his eyes.

"Why does everyone laugh at me?!"

The kid, Evan, immediately seemed terrified, his hands up apologetically.

"I- I-I'm sorry I didn't- I wasn't- I wasn't laughing, I swear! I don't laugh- well I mean I do laugh uh, sometimes, like when watching a movie and there's a funny scene and you chuckle to yourself or rather exhale through your nose but I- didn'tlaughnow..."

His voice rushed the last words and trailed off. The boy's utter worry calmed Connor down a bit. It was clear he didn't have any bad intentions, and he believed him.

"It's fine," he muttered, picking up his notebooks.

Evan seemed to breathe again. He took a second staring at the ground to gather his thoughts and calm his anxiety, before helping to pick up the books.

"So. What happened to your arm?" Connor asked rather bluntly, noticing the cast, while shoving his stuff back into his bag.

"Uh I- I fell out of a tree."

"You...fell out of a tree? Like a pinecone?" The boy's expression brightened, now seeming to want to contain his laughter. "Well that is just the saddest fucking thing I've ever heard, oh my god," he chuckled.

Evan laughed somewhat nervously.

"I know..."

Connor suddenly frowned.

"No one signed your cast... I'll sign it. Got a sharpie?"

"Uhm..." the anxious kid pulled the pen from his pocket, and slowly handed it to the other one.

Connor took it, grabbed Evan's arm, ignoring his surprised squeak, and signed his name: an outsized scrawl, covering an entire side of the cast.

Evan swallowed.

"Uh, thanks..."

"Now it's as if we were friends," Murphy stated, and without giving the other one a chance to mumble out an answer, turned and walked away.

This was going to be a strange first day.

Chapter Text

Veronica.

Dear Diary,

Here we are! First day of senior year! We made it! But you know, I'm looking around at these kids that I've known all my life, and can't help but ask myself...what happened?

We used to be so...shiny, and kind, we all got along. But then I guess some kids got more praise than others. Some were achievers and some...just got lost, and lost their chances. Became 'losers'.

But I heard from someone in the hallway once that guys like us, the unseen, the losers, are actually cool in college. So I'm looking forward to that. If that's true, college will be paradise.

I can't wait that long though, that's why I've joined the Heathers. Royal bitches, I know, but it's a necessary evil. You have to get through the store if you want the candy.

I just want to survive this  Thunderdome , and hopefully still be in one piece by June. Is that too much to

"Ow!"

Someone roughly shoved the girl before she could finish writing. Jake and Rich, two of the most popular kids, were roughhousing, throwing around a ball, and maybe they hadn't noticed her, or maybe they had, and done it precisely because she was with the Heathers and they were with The Plastics. In any case, they were already far away before she could even think of something to say.
Veronica just sighed, found a quiet corner by the stairs, and continued writing.

Oh yeah, forgot to mention. I picked a great freaking time to join the Lip Gloss Gestapo, in the middle of a war with the rival Barbie mafia. So trying to get some targets off my back, I may have just made more enemies. Which is why I need the Heathers' protection now more than ever...better get to work.

Heeding her own words, she closed the journal and got up. As she made her way through the hallway, she noticed a girl she'd never seen before, who had a big innocent smile and was acting really friendly to people, which immediately stood out.

"Hey, excuse me, could you tell me where the AP Calculus classroom is?" she asked a boy who was on his phone.

"I could," the guy replied, and kept walking.

The girl looked so lost and out of place, too good for the concrete jungle they lived in, that in a way, it reminded Veronica of her friend, Martha. And, maybe because of the guilt that she hadn't been the best friend to Martha lately, she approached this girl.

"Hey," she said with a friendly smile. "Are you new here?"

The stranger seemed incredibly relieved.

"Hi! Yeah, pretty obvious, isn't it? I'm Cady."

"Veronica. Don't mind the people here too much, we got a 100 to 1 jerk ratio."

"Oh, it's okay, I get it. It's like baboons! They'll be aggressive at first, it's only natural, but I have to fight my way in to break into the pack."

That resonated with Veronica more than she expected it to. It was pretty much what she was doing with the Heathers. And Chandler could certainly scream like a rabid baboon when she wanted to.

"Yeah, only aggressive at first..." she murmured. "Anyway, you said calc classroom right? I'm on my way there now, are you in 12th grade too?"

"Oh, well, no, I'm a...Junior, I believe you call it? But I'm taking advanced calculus."

"Oooo, smart girl, how very. Well, this way."

She led the way through the crowded corridor, until after a few turns they couldn't get past a group of people standing around in a circle. Veronica immediately had a bad feeling, it was never a good thing when teens were gathered like that, and she felt her blood run cold when she heard Kurt's provocative voice.

"Who do you think you are with that coat anyways, that Matrix dude? Or are you on your way to some emo concert?"

He must have thought that was really funny or something, because his laughter could be heard along with Ram's and then the sound of them high-fiving.

She didn't have to be able to see beyond the people blocking the way to know they were picking on JD. The guy had moved just a couple weeks before the end of junior year, around the same time Veronica had joined the Heathers; and he'd become the two jocks' favorite target, partly because he was new and different, partly because Veronica and he liked each other, and they didn't appreciate "one of the hot chicks being wasted on him", their words.

Not that they'd done much yet besides exchanging a few glances and having a few sly conversations, but it was pretty clear to everyone they were into each other.

"My buddy Kurt just asked you a question."

Veronica elbowed her way into the crowd, finding the two jocks hovering over JD, Cady following behind her, startled.

"Didn't we go through this last year?" JD said, his shoulders a bit tense, but otherwise not losing his cool. "Though I guess it's too much to ask of your caveman's brains to remember anything that isn't right in front of you."

"Watch it or what's gonna be right in front of you is my fist!" Kurt said.

"Shouldn't we get a teacher?" Cady whispered to Veronica. Some students, remembering last year's fight where Kurt and Ram had got their assess kicked, had pulled up their phones in hopes of recording something to gossip about later.

"Teachers' can do jack shit," the girl in blue murmured. "Hey jerks, go make out already and leave him alone!"

The three boys' heads turned to her, JD with a worried look that they might attack her too.

"Awwww look, he needs his little girlfriend to come save him," Ram snickered.

"Hmm. I don't know what your problem is," JD said slowly but sharply, a smirk growing on his face despite the anger in his eyes. "But I bet it's really hard for you guys to pronounce."

That seemed to set off the footballers. But they didn't attack the kid directly -perhaps they did remember last time-, instead one ripped his book off his hands, while the other pushed him back against the wall to stop him from getting to it.

Ram had the book, and flaunted it in the air mockingly before ripping it in two, throwing the pieces on the ground and letting the pages scatter.

"Whoops."

Most laughed, while others exclaimed "ooooooooo" in unison.

JD's eyes widened and then narrowed with a violent spark. He immediately jumped at them, hitting Kurt square in the jaw and kicking Ram in the guts when he tried coming after him. Pretty quickly they were in a fight where the kid in the trench coat clearly had the upper hand.

Veronica shouldn't have liked this, violence was wrong, she knew that, but damn did she enjoy watching him kick ass. He was dark, dangerous, and so, so beautiful. Before she started drooling, she focused on picking up the parts of the book from the ground.

Only a few seconds later a teacher appeared.

"What is the meaning of this?!"

Of course, she saw only what she wanted to see. Troublemaker Jason Dean hitting the poor innocent star footballers. Because the rich and the popular could possibly do no wrong.
JD stopped kicking Kurt in the ground, and he and Ram backed away.

The teacher pointed a finger at JD.

"You, detention, this Saturday." She then glared at the jocks. "And you two, better stop messing around if you want to make this school proud, don't waste your potential. Now all of you, show's over, go to class!"

The crowd promptly scattered. Veronica approached JD.

"You okay?"

The boy nodded, running a hand through his hair to get it out of his eyes. He was panting a bit, but grinned at her.

"Has the extreme made an impression again?"

"Always does," Veronica replied, smiling back at him, their eyes locking.

JD seemed happy, but his smile faltered a bit looking at the book in the girl's hands.

"That one had been with me since Boston. I must have read it five times."

"Sorry about that. Mr. Baudelaire deserved better."

"Oh, I can fix it," Cady piped in. They both turned to her, having forgotten she was there. "That guy tore it exactly in half, I can just glue the pages back together again! With my family we used to do it all the time in Kenya, there are so many books you can't get there."

"Kenya? Woah. Oh, also, Cady, JD; JD, Cady."

JD did an impression of a bow towards the new girl.

"I'd be forever in your debt."

"It's no problem. But, we should really head to class."

"Yeah...later," said Veronica, looking at JD.

The boy lifted two fingers and vaguely waved, looking back at her with a sparkle in his eyes as if nothing else in the world existed.

"Definitely."

The girl smiled feeling the cheesy butterflies in her stomach, and gave him one last look before they walked away.

Cady.

She couldn't deny she'd had a bit of a rough start, school wasn't what she expected, and everyone was so unnecessarily aggressive all the time...but she wanted to belong, and if she had to become them to do it, so be it, she'd learn.

Veronica was nice though. She seemed to know her way around the school, the secret social language Cady had yet to pick up on, but at the same time, she wasn't full of herself or horrible to people.

This good impression, and the newfound confidence Cady had about her experience at the school, fell apart, however, as soon as lunchtime came. Turns out you couldn't sit just at any table, it was pretty much a minefield, and you had to be extremely careful where you stepped on.

Grabbing her tray, she thought she'd have Veronica by her side at least, but she was wrong.

"Look, it's not because I don't like you," the girl in blue explained, genuinely seeming sorry, "it's got nothing to do with you. I have to sit with the Heathers, and you'll have to find somewhere of your own. I'm sure some tables will be welcoming enough...just mention Africa, and they'll be too scared of being pegged as xenophobes to reject you."

"The Heathers?" Cady repeated, confused.

As if summoned by her words, the doors of the cafeteria flew open, and the murmurs and talking quieted down until everyone watched in silence. To her, it resembled the reverence the commoners had when royalty walked among them.

And in walked the Heathers, as if they were made of pure gold. One in red, one in green, one in yellow, all of them pristine and beautiful.

They moved through the cafeteria the way eagles soar above the fields, flying higher than all other creatures.

But the attention shifted away from them, and to the other side of the lunchroom, when the doors from there opened as well, presenting another trio. Three girls as well, just as beautiful, all in pink like a whirlwind of Belladonna flowers. Their looks said it all: cold, perfect, and deadly.

And at that moment, Cady didn't need to know much about the school to be sure of three fundamental things.

1. The tension between those two groups could be felt in every contained breath in the whole caf.

2. These were the Apex predators, and would rip you apart if you got in their way.

3. All six of them seemed to be heading to the same table, which could only end in carnage.

Chapter Text

Jeremy.

Right as the bell for lunchtime rang, Jeremy and Michael slipped out to go into the 7-Eleven that was just around the block.

Michael always saw the same guy hanging there, they were sort of slushy buddies, even though they never actually talked. They just both knew each loved the 7-Eleven Slurpees and would always find each other there, and that was pretty much their whole thing.

This time wasn't any different, the trench coat kid nodded at them in recognition and then went to enjoy his drink, he seemed to like those slushies a bit too much in Jeremy's opinion.

Michael got some sushi, a negimaki roll, along with his frozen beverage, dancing a bit to the rhythm of Bob Marley blasting through his headphones. He seemed extra happy when the lady gave him a generous pour, almost overflowing the cup.

"I still can't believe Rich scribbled on my backpack," Jeremy muttered, remembering how the bully had cornered him almost as soon as he walked into school, shoved him against a locker, and written with a permanent marker on the front of his bag. "What does Boyf even mean anyway?"

Realization seemed to hit Michael, and he took off the headphones, leaving them resting on his neck. He grabbed his own bag and placed it next to Jeremy's. Together, they very blatantly spelled BOYFRIENDS.

Jeremy groaned.

"Who even still thinks calling people gay is like a funny insult thing? I hate this school."

Michael paid for his stuff and they both walked back. The boy in the red hoodie shrugged, while stuffing his mouth with the sushi.

"It's all good. I saw on Discovery last night that humanity has stopped evolving."

"And... that's good?"

"Evolution's survival of the fittest, right? But now you don't need to be strong to survive. Which means..." he suddenly grabbed Jeremy by the shoulders, almost dropping all he was holding. "there's never been a better time in history to be a loser! So own it! Why try to be cool when you can be-"

"Christine," Jeremy's eyes had widened.

"Uh, I was gonna say getting high in my basement, but..."

"No, Christine!" Jeremy enthusiastically pointed at the pinboard right at the entrance of the school, where the sign-up sheet for the school play was, and where Christine Canigula was, writing her name in quirky but pretty handwriting.

"I have to sign up as well, then I can spend time with her!"

Michael was a bit skeptical.

"But you don't know anything about theater. You used to think a soprano voice was doing an Italian mobster accent."

"I mean it is called The Sopranos..." Jeremy murmured under his breath.

"It's like you're trying to look for ways to embarrass yourself."

"No. I'm evolving." There was a fiery decision in Jeremy's eyes as he signed up for the play as well.

Rich was passing nearby, and yelled "gay!" at him as a few of his friends laughed, but Jeremy did his best to ignore them.

Michael sighed and put a reassuring hand on his friend's shoulder.

"Then you got this bro!"

As the two went back into the cafeteria, however, Jeremy's thoughts about Christine dissipated, because something clearly was going down.

The Heathers on one side, and The Plastics on the other, were walking towards the same spot to sit.

"What's going on?" he murmured.

"Remember how Ram Sweeney broke that table at the end of last year?" Michael said in a hushed tone. "So they replaced it with that new bigger and shinier one, I guess they both wanna claim it now. It's like a legendary item in Apocalypse of the Damned!"

Heather Chandler rested a hand on her hip, staring at Regina in front of her, who had her arms crossed.

"Excuse me, I think you're lost," Heather said, with a voice like the sweetest venom. "Your place is over there." She pointed towards the trash cans.

Heather Duke snickered.

"Yeah, because you're tr-"

"Shut up, Heather! They get it."

"Sorry, Heather."

Regina rolled her eyes.

"Cute. But this is our table. It's the best one, and we're the best, so it just makes sense."

"Oh really?"

Heather Chandler set her tray down on the table, and after glaring at Veronica and the other two Heathers, they set their food down as well.

"Seems like it's occupied," she showed a vicious smile.

Regina George narrowed her eyes, but smiled as well. The entire cafeteria was silent, holding their breaths, watching.

She then, slowly but deliberately, bent forward and grabbed Heather C's diet coke. She uncapped it as the entire school followed her movements, and then proceeded to suddenly throw it at Chandler's face. The drink messed up her make-up and hair and dripped down to stain her outfit.

Everyone gasped in sheer surprise, and then a demonic screech of pure outrage broke the silence, followed by the words:

"YOU ARE DEAD, YOU WORTHLESS BITCH!"

That gave start to a fight that was pretty much everyone against everyone, but especially those who hung out with the Heathers versus those that did so with the Plastics. Food was being thrown around like ammunition, drinks spilled, some actually throwing punches or trying to rip hair off. It was chaos.

"Holy shit," Jeremy breathed out, in disbelief at how quickly the cafeteria had turned into a warzone.

"Stop!" a girl in a blue blazer yelled, one of the few not participating in the madness, but no one listened to her. Once she got tired of shouting, she seemed to decide to get out of it, and waded her way through the mess with another girl following her, ending up approaching the two boys' corner; the closest thing resembling safety.

"I can't believe them, like this is gonna solve anything!" she complained.

Both Jeremy and Michael were a bit startled that Veronica, one of the Heathers no less, was actually talking to them.

"Uh, y-yeah, it's unbelievable, right?" Jeremy stammered, trying way too hard to seem casual. He leaned his shoulder on the wall to seem cooler, but someone had thrown mashed potatoes in that spot, and he soon grimaced feeling the mushy texture and took his arm away. Wonderful.

"And here I thought that seeing a real fat person would be the craziest thing in America! Your schools are insane!" said the girl next to Veronica, who Jeremy hadn't seen before. She seemed pretty excited, as if she was on a safari watching the animals fight.

"We need to stop this," Veronica said.

Michael ducked to avoid, just barely, some trash flying in the air.

"Agreed, but how?"

"We...we could um, we could set the fire sprinklers off," a voice said.

They all turned, noticing for the first time a boy in the corner, holding his lunch tray to his chest like a shield, one of his arms in a cast. Even though they'd talked a bit on the bus, Jeremy still couldn't recall his name.

Veronica let out a sudden loud snort-laugh.

"Sorry, I just imagined the Heathers all soaked, their three-hour hairdos all ruined, it's the little things," she chuckled some more. "But yeah, sounds like a plan! That ought to break them off."

"The smoke detector is so high up though-" Jeremy said, looking at the ceiling.

"But there's another one right outside that'll be easy to reach!" Michael added.

All five students headed out into the hallway, and indeed, the smoke detector wasn't far off the ground. Even through the wall they could still hear all the shouting and rioting, and decided to keep the door open to still have a view of the cafeteria.

"Does anyone have a lighter?" the kid in the striped shirt asked.

They all looked at each other, realizing they very much did not. Now what?

"I do," someone said.

Connor had been sitting near a wall, seeming to prefer to stay out of the whole chaos, and now stood up and walked over to them, taking his lighter out of his pocket.

"Perfect! Wanna do the honors?" Veronica said, motioning to the detector, and the rest was pretty self-explanatory.

Michael and Jeremy pulled up a chair and propped it right below the smoke detector. Cady handed Connor a piece of paper she ripped from her notebook, and the boy grabbed it, stood on the chair, and set the paper on fire.

Soon enough, a tiny column of smoke was going up the air and into the detector. After a few seconds, it started beeping, and then it was as if the world's biggest collective shower had started.

All the shouting and things being thrown around turned into teens complaining and running about trying to get away from the water, and while a few didn't seem to mind, it did stop them from fighting.

"Wet girls," Ram said, his eyes widened.

"Hot!" both Ram and Kurt said in unison. "Punch it in!" They jumped and brofisted, laughing.

Veronica rolled her eyes at that, but nothing could ruin her happy mood of seeing the Heathers all pissed off, using their trays to try to keep their hair from getting wet. Gretchen was doing the same for Regina, using her tray as an umbrella for her, while getting soaked herself. What was certain was that the food fight was over.

"We did it!" Veronica triumphantly said.

"Yeah!" Jeremy had to admit it felt pretty good to have done that, to intervene for once, and be part of something. Even Connor was smiling.

Their joy didn't last though. Principal Gowan himself was soon in front of them, and he didn't look amused in the slightest.

"Hope you had fun with your little stunt. Detention this Saturday, for all of you."

"What? But we were helping! We basically did your job-" Cady protested.

"What about literally everyone else throwing food and things and fighting each other?!" Veronica added.

"Causing a fire to set off an alarm is a crime, children. We were handling the issue in the cafeteria."

"But-" Cady started saying, but was interrupted.

"That's another Saturday for all of you. Do you want a third?"

Everyone stayed quiet. But Jeremy was annoyed, it was so unfair! And he'd never even gone to detention-

"Heroes never get recognized for their actions, it builds character," Michael murmured.

Soon enough the voice of the vice-principal could be heard through the speakers.

"Attention all students. We will have a meeting immediately, please head to the gym in an orderly manner."

The Principal and teachers began herding the students towards the gym, and they all started walking there, all wet, disheveled and with a bunch of bruises, and several more food stains.

Were they ever going to have a first day at this hellish school that didn't end like this?

Chapter Text

Evan.

"OUR CHILDREN ARE SUFFERING!" was Miss Fleming's scream as soon as everyone sat down on the bleachers of the gym.

Evan slipped into the background, unnoticed, where he felt safe.

Principal Gowan had grimaced at the loud shout.

"Thank you, Miss Fleming-" he tried taking the microphone away from her, but she refused to give it up, and kept looking at every student in the eyes intensely as if trying to force some sort of connection.

"We're all together in this, so we need to talk, and feel together! Get to the root of why we feel like we need to attack each other, causing each other pain instead of confronting our own!"

"Great idea. Call me when the shuttle lands," Coach Ripper sneered. Some other of the faculty laughed.

The Principal finally managed to get back the microphone.

"Yes, thank you, as we were saying," he cleared his throat. "Students, the kind of behavior we've seen today is completely unacceptable. Rules are being abused and discarded like toilet paper!"

Is toilet paper abused?  Evan wondered.

"It always has been unacceptable, of course, but now more than ever. It could mean the end for all of us."

He made a dramatic pause, making sure he had everyone's attention, which was only mildly so, before continuing.

"Due to the... disorganized nature of our school in the past year, which is completely you children's fault, the department of education has sent us an ultimatum. In a few months, the school board will come to review the school, and if they do not find it to be an ideal educational environment, we will be shut down. Which means everyone gets fired and every student has to repeat the year wherever you manage to go. And trust me, it will not look good in your reports. Forget anything above community college if this happens."

Some gasps were heard among the crowd. Evan wasn't sure what he'd do: sure, he didn't have any friends here unless you counted "family friends", but the thought of a new school, full of strangers, not knowing where the classrooms were or how to even get to the bathrooms to hide, was frightening. He swallowed a lump in his throat, going over all the options in his head at 100 miles an hour.

"If we do not see an improvement in this school, we are all doomed," Principal Gowan sighed, rubbing his temple, seeming to be genuinely affected by what he was saying. "That is all, go back to your classrooms."

Veronica.

Dear Diary,
School started only this Wednesday, and somehow, me, JD, Evan, Connor, Cady and two other kids from her junior year, Jeremy and Michael, have all managed to get detention already. Today, on a Saturday, of all days! Right now I was supposed to be at the mall with the Heathers, buying clothes and being popular and shit... On second thought, maybe detention isn't so bad. I just can't help but worry with this and all that's going on at school that I won't get into a good university. College is supposed to be my ticket out of hell, I can't miss my ride! I will say one thing though, if I have to be here, I'm glad it's with JD. I'd kill to have less time with the Heathers so I can see him more often.

The girl blushed ever so slightly writing those last sentences, realizing how much she did want to be with him, a small smile appearing on her lips.

"Veronica Sawyer," as if conjured by her words, the boy she had just been thinking about greeted her, startling her a bit, and she quickly closed the diary in fear he'd read what she had been writing. She did not need to feed his ego.

He was in front of her table, smiling, his eyebrows raised with intrigue.

"I did not expect to find you here." He pulled up the chair next to her. "This seat taken?"

"It's a free country," she said softly. "And I didn't expect to find me here either."

"I'm gonna guess you, unfortunately, didn't get in trouble just to see me. Is this about the whole thing that happened in the cafeteria on the first day? Seems like I missed the French-fries Revolution."

"Yeah...but not for being in the actual thing, but for stopping it. It's so stupid and unfair."

"Shouldn't surprise you. 'Justice is no more than the advantage of those stronger.' "

She showed a sideways smile, narrowing her eyes.

"Is quoting old dead guys your way of comforting someone?"

"Is it working?"

Connor came in, looking rattled by something. JD waved at him and the newcomer sat at the table next to his, nodding as a hi. It certainly wasn't the first time they both met at detention.

Next came Cady, who chose to sit in front of Veronica, and seemed to be really confused by the whole detention system.

"Is this like, an extra class we get? Why would that be a punishment?"

"There's no class," Veronica explained. "Usually you just sit in silence and stare at nothing."

"Practicing for when our troubled lives obviously and inevitably lead us to prison," JD said sarcastically.

"That...makes no sense," Cady murmured.

"Welcome to the school system."

"Oh, by the way! Here's your book!" Cady pulled it out of her bag and handed it to JD.

He took it and inspected it, apparently surprised both at the act of kindness as well as how good it looked. Like it had never ripped at all.

"Thank you, I really appreciate it," he said honestly, to which she just smiled and shrugged.

The next ones to arrive were Michael and Jeremy. They looked pretty nervous, as if they felt bad for being there, clearly first-timers. Veronica herself hadn't been there more than once or twice in all her years at school.

Both boys sat down near the back. The last one to arrive was Evan, who rushed to the nearest seat he could find, sitting down next to Connor.

The teacher walked in a minute after that, or more like dragged himself in, he was so old Veronica was pretty sure that when he taught them about the birth of America, he was just recalling his childhood.

"You seem to all be here, good," he said. He signed in all of the students' names on a sheet of paper, very slowly, and then addressed them once again, while sitting down at his desk at the front. "You know how this goes. No talking, no using your phones, you may do homework or read, I don't mind that. But most of all, think about the behavior that brought you here and how you can improve, you'll have to fill out a survey about it before leaving."

Connor.

The first ten minutes were excruciatingly boring. Cady was drawing hearts with someone's name on it Connor couldn't see from where he was, Veronica seemed to be writing something, JD was reading.

He started tapping his pen against the table to the rhythm of a Bring Me the Horizon song, but the teacher promptly told him to knock it off.

"That's the guy who threw a printer at Mrs. G in second grade, right?" he then heard the two boys at the back whisper, whatever their names were.

"Mhm, because he didn't get to be line leader that day, I think."

Connor felt a pang of rage surge from within him. There was so much more to that episode than just being line leader! A million reasons collapsing into a final breaking point that no one cared to understand; no, they just cared about what was at the surface, about knowing just enough to have a damn story to tell. He turned to face them, and if glares could kill, he was sure they wouldn't still be breathing.

Both boys immediately froze like deer in headlights, realizing they'd been heard.

"I'm sorry- we didn't mean-" the skinnier one stammered.

"It was actually pretty cool that- you dared to do that," the other one said.

He just stared at them. Were they making fun of him now?!

"Quiet!" the professor spat. "Murphy, face forward."

He glared at them for a second longer before slowly turning around. As he did, he made eye contact with Evan beside him, and they locked eyes for a second. The anxious kid was looking at him with...pity? No, it wasn't that. It was more like... compassion, and silent understanding. Like he knew exactly what it was like, and felt for him. It surprised him, and in that instant in time, without a word being uttered, Connor felt more seen and understood than he had for a very long time.

The moment was over though as soon as it started, when Evan quickly averted his eyes elsewhere, probably intimidated or just nervous like he always seemed to be. God that kid could use some weed, he thought.

He decided to tell him so. He opened the notebook in front of him, mostly filled with doodles and quotes from his favorite bands and very few actual notes, and wrote on a new sheet:

You need to relax before you have a heart attack. I can think of 420 ways to help.

Smirking, he lightly elbowed Evan and nodded at the paper. The boy first seemed startled, and after reading the note, confused. He opened his mouth to talk but seemed to suddenly remember he couldn't, his eyes quickly shifting to the teacher and back. Instead, he pulled up a pen of his own and after hesitating for a moment, wrote underneath Connor's messy handwriting.

Sorry, it's an anxiety thing...There really are that many ways?

Connor wanted to laugh and face-palm at the same time, but had to repress both.

Weed, Evan Hansen, I'm talking about weed.

Never mind that for some reason he'd apologized for being at risk of a heart attack. The blond kid's eyes widened in surprise reading that, and then appeared embarrassed. His hand was a bit shakier when he wrote.

I don't do that. He then quickly decided to add: but it's okay if you do! Though maybe you should try going on walks instead, look at some trees :)

Ah yes, that's exactly what I need. Trees.

Connor's sarcasm seemed to be lost on Evan however, because he had a giddy smile as if he could barely hold in the need to talk about trees now that someone else expressed interest in them.

Before they could write anything more though, some loud snoring caught all of the students' attention, their heads turning towards the teacher. He had fallen asleep, and by the way he was snoring, wouldn't wake up even with an earthquake.

They all looked at each other in silent complicity. They were free now.

Chapter Text

JD.

Connor rolled a piece of paper into a tiny ball and gingerly threw it at the teacher, as if to check if he was truly passed out. The ball bounced off his face and fell while he snored. No response.

"Well, Mr. Washington is officially out," he declared with a smile.

"This school's a joke, and teachers are just clowns," Jeremy muttered.

"And popular kids are the whole circus," Connor said.

"I still can't believe none of them literally ever get in trouble for all the crap they do...but the one time we try to do something about it ourselves- well, here we are," Jeremy added, joining in the unconformity -probably the first thing he'd ever had in common with someone like Connor.

"And it's the same in every school across this great land of the free," JD mused in his usual cynicism with a hint of dark humor, not looking up from his book.

"Well...maybe it doesn't have to be that way here," Veronica suddenly spoke, her gears almost visibly turning inside her head.

JD paid attention. He loved seeing her mind at work, she was utterly intriguing to him. He'd seen it all, over and over again, everything was the exact same in every school across every town across every state...except for her. She was the variable. A splash of color in an endlessly grey landscape. He'd never seen someone like her.

"Adults clearly can't handle it," she waved vaguely at Professor Washington to further prove her point. "I mean, they admitted it themselves, everything's about to be in shambles under their administration. But what we did Wednesday, all of us... that was good. We worked well together. We could save this place. Which means we should."

"Uh, have you forgotten where our little kumbaya brought us?" Connor signaled around them.

"But we did stop the fight," Evan said quietly, then quickly added: "sorry."

"He's right," Michael said with a small smile. "Like the Avengers. The vintage comics, not the movies of course. We need to team up, join forces, to destroy the evil and save everyone."

JD leaned back on his chair and put his feet up over the table, watching them curiously. It was like a rendition of a discount Breakfast Club. There was a spark building among them, small, but there it was. Resistance, a willingness to fight back. The rebel in him liked it. He just wasn't sure about the cause, and looked back at Veronica.

"What I don't get though is why you'd want to save this rotting totalitarian cesspool of the hegemonic swatch dogs, diet cokeheads and varsity Neanderthals. I say let it destroy itself, seems like natural selection to me."

Veronica was undeterred by his loaded statement.

"It may be a cesspool, but it's our cesspool. And I don't intend to go down with it. We could use your help." She suddenly stared intensely at him, her big, bright doe eyes taking over his entire vision. And mind. "You don't have to care about the school, but..." she bit her lip, seeming a bit embarrassed by what she was about to say, "maybe if you care even a little bit about me?"

There was some color to her cheeks. JD was caught off guard. For once he didn't have any words, no sarcastic remarks or cool quotes, because he realized he did care about her. His eyes, always appearing a bit lost and disconnected, seemed to have found something to focus on- something to hold onto, someone to fight for. As if something was alive inside of him again. Maybe.

Veronica smoothed the creases of his black shirt and left her hand resting there. She smiled looking up at him, hopeful.

"So, what do you say, Slurpee boy? You in?"

Giving her the most earnest look, he nodded.

"I, for one, sure am!" Michael interjected.

"Avengers assemble," Jeremy joined in, smiling at his friend, and straightened his glasses. Tipping the scales meant someone else could rise, and perhaps make things nicer for everyone. If Jake was at a lower level and he was at a higher one...His chances with Christine could improve. Not to mention, if they had to change schools, there was a chance he'd lose Michael, and that was completely unacceptable.

"I'd love to help," Cady cheerfully said. Of course, she wanted to earn her keep on the one group that had shown her acceptance to secure her place. And feed off their approval.

All heads turned to Connor and Evan.

"I don't know why you want me in your dream team shit. Even if it wasn't a stupidly hopeless idea, I'd just ruin it. I'm the junkie freak, remember?" Connor said through gritted teeth, his sight low.

"You helped in the cafeteria, we couldn't have done it without you," Cady reminded him with a kind look.

"And you won't ruin it," JD assured him coolly. "The so-called freaks taking over is exactly what this place needs."

Connor sighed, but did look interested enough, albeit it seemed as though he was attempting to hide it.

"Fine, sure, whatever."

Now everyone looked at Evan, who seemed to get extremely panicky at all the sudden attention. He fiddled with the hems of his blue polo.

"Uhm, I- so, uh- there's...there's this nature documentary I saw the other day, where there's these, these trees that burn every year and are reborn and-"

The sudden, out of nowhere ramble seemed to be some sort of rehearsed conversation starter, that for some reason, he'd decided to start using now. Odd, but strangely endearing in its own way.

"Hansen," Connor cut him off. "If I'm doing it, you're doing it."

"You had a great idea at lunch," Veronica added softly. "We can use that brain of yours."

"Uhm, uh- o, okay."

Evan scratched the back of his head and smiled, partly a nervous smile, partly a genuinely glad one. Could this be... friendship?

Veronica.

Only a couple minutes later, all the while with the soundtrack of an elder man snoring, they'd all gathered more or less in a circle, turning the chairs or sitting on the tables. It was pretty clear they were all a bit unsure about the whole thing- belonging to a group of any kind was pretty new for them. Veronica had a little more experience in that regard however, and was happy to take the lead if needed. She truly believed something good could be built among them, and fix things. Make things pleasant and endurable again, at least just enough to get her through that last year.

"So what's the first order of business in operation Carrie, o captain my captain?" JD asked her with cocky amusement, showing that usual crooked smile of his.

She still wasn't sure he was taking this seriously, after all he had no real reason to care about the school if he was going to move soon again anyway, but the look he'd given her earlier...there was a passion to it she knew she could trust.

She rolled her eyes, trying to keep herself from smiling.

"I'm no captain. And we are not going for a Carrie approach, I'd rather avoid pig blood and a burning building."

"Cough killjoy cough," JD said through a terrible impression of fake coughing.

"You are not funny," she shook her head. "But... I don't really have any ideas, to be honest."

"Well, the Plastics and the Heathers are the main problem...uh, no offense...they start most stuff trying to compete and the rest just all falls to their feet," Jeremy commented. "So I think we should focus on them."

Veronica looked at the kid a bit surprised at the no offense part...she often forgot that thanks to Heather she was considered hot and popular now. One of them. And really, things were pretty good for her, she would have had no problem just keeping the queen bee satisfied for the rest of the year if it allowed her to survive- if the whole school board review hadn't been an issue. Her entire future depended on it, so it was time to shake things up.

"If we want to bring them down, we'll need something we can use against them. You know, intel, or whatever," Connor said.

Veronica shrugged.

"I'm sure I can do anything we need to do to the Heathers, they usually never shut up, so info is not really a problem. But...we need another spy on the inside. Of the other side."

"Someone Regina George, the Regina George would allow in her ranks?" Michael mused trying to see how that could ever work. They were all labeled already, stuffed into a box in the queen's eyes...except...

As if they were all thinking in unison, their eyes turned to Cady. The girl blinked in confusion.

"You're perfect," Veronica realized with amazement. "A new and fascinating toy she might want in her collection."

"You mean...become her friend, just to spy on her? Isn't that bad?"

"We're your friends, a group, would we tell you to do something bad?" Veronica insisted, they needed this. Out of the corner of her eye, she noticed JD giving her the same slightly disappointed look he had when she agreed to prank Martha...which made her insides churn a bit, but she ignored him.

Cady seemed unsure, but she ended up nodding, offering a small smile.

"Alright, sounds fun. I'll try my best."

"Great!"

It was all starting to pan out... a plan to save the school, to make things better. If only they'd had any idea at the time how bad things would get.

Chapter Text

Cady.

That Monday morning, sitting on AP calculus, Cady felt more confident than ever about making it in the school and finding her place. She had friends, and they'd trusted her with a mission, it was good. Even though Veronica was in the same class, she'd told her they had to sit away from each other, since Cady couldn't be associated with anything regarding the Heathers if they wanted the other group to accept her.

That had a benefit however, because she got to sit behind Aaron. Aaron Samuels. He was so dreamy! She'd been completely smitten since her very first class, even though they hadn't actually exchanged a single word yet.

"If any of you would like to join our Mathletes team, Kevin here is the man to see, they need four people to compete..." Miss Norbury was saying, though Cady was barely paying attention, too busy staring at the back of Aaron's head, his curls just the right amount of messy. Suddenly, the boy turned towards her.

"Hi, I'm Aaron. You're new here?"

Finally he'd noticed her! Holding in her excitement, trying to appear cool and in control, she replied:

"Me Cady."

Her entire insides turned with inner cringing, but she continued:

"I just moved here two weeks ago. Hoping to make some human friends."

He smiled softly.

"Cool. Uh, got an eraser?"

"I would love to," she replied without thinking. Oh my god keep it together. "I mean, yes!" she handed it to him. He gave her a small smile and turned back, allowing her to safely hide her head in her arms in embarrassment.

She'd never been good at love. Boys either ran from her, literally, or laughed at her, she just didn't get it. In maths, you followed some exact steps, and would always get the correct result. It made sense. But every time she tried at love, it didn't matter if she followed all the parts of the equation like you were supposed to, the result was still wrong.

"X equals three," she replied without skipping a beat at the teacher's question at that moment. Miss Norbury seemed surprised.

"That's correct! Let's try another one..." she wrote an equation on the board.

"K equals negative three," Cady stated, which of course was also correct.

Great at math, stupid with love. She had decided to just give up on it...until now, until him. He was just like...someone from TV, like right out of a romantic comedy, just so perfect. Those eyes, she could just swim in...

"Wow, are you trying to make the rest of us look dumb?" Aaron asked her lightheartedly, a smile curling his lips in the most attractive way possible.

"I'm not trying to, it's just happening," she quipped, smiling back.

"Okay, challenge accepted. I'm gonna have to play at your level, like how J.R. Smith got better when he was challenged by LeBron James when they united. Oh, also, Miss Norbury is tough and a little weird, but you get to like her eventually."

"Like snake meat," she nodded in understanding.

He laughed. It wasn't a joke, just honesty, but she loved the sound so much she didn't clarify.

Damn it...she really was falling in love, wasn't she?

A couple of hours later, at lunchtime, she took a deep breath as she clutched her tray tightly, waiting in line for her food. It was time, she couldn't disappoint her friends, she had to earn herself a place with The Plastics. Shiny, fake, and hard... she tried to channel everything she'd learned from Veronica, if she had been able to make herself a spot with the Heathers, then so would Cady with these girls.

They were strutting nearby, but ahead of them was Kurt Kelly, running up to a girl in line next to Cady.

"Martha Dumptruck, wide load! HOONKKK!" he yelled as he smacked the tray out of the sweet-looking girl's hand, laughing.

The Plastics passed through, barely giving a glance.

Cady knew it was her moment. Taking a deep breath, mustering up the courage, she moved in front of Kurt.

"Hey, pick that up right now!" she told him, loud enough for the people around to hear.

Kurt turned, half confused half surprised that a nobody was addressing him in that manner, or even addressing him at all. Martha looked at her wide-eyed as well, not expecting anyone to stand up for her. And, most important of all, Regina was watching too.

"I'm sorry, are you actually talking to me?" the quarterback barked.

Cady swallowed. She didn't like saying mean things to people- but this was necessary. It was for her friends. A lioness had to hunt to stay in the pride.

"Yeah! What gives you the right to pick on her? Look at you, you're a high school has-been waiting to happen, a...a future gas station attendant. If you were in the wild lions wouldn't even bother eating you."

Kurt huffed, so baffled at this girl's audacity that he didn't even know how to respond. However, before he could, Regina interjected. She giggled.

"The gal's got some gall. What's the matter, Kurt, talked yourself out of IQ points to even respond? It's better if you don't open your mouth anyway, so you spare us all your corn-shaped teeth. Now go on, go back to your mythical bitch master, we don't want her to miss her hound."

Kurt narrowed his eyes, looking at Regina, clearly greatly offended. He couldn't understand how messing with Martha Dumptruck could have led to all this.

"Whatever," he scoffed. "Stupid girl bullshit, you must have all synced your periods or something," he muttered, shrugging it all off as nonsense and going away.

Cady was amazed. Had Regina George just...defended her? And this Apex predator certainly had claws.

Regina smiled at her, appraising her with her blue eyes. The two others watched her as well, Karen blankly, and Gretchen suspiciously.

"Why don't I know you?" the queen bee said.

"I don't know, I'm new here... I used to be home-schooled."

"Wait, what?"

"I just moved here from Africa."

"Shut up!" Regina stared at her, her smile growing. "Shut up!"

"I- didn't say anything," Cady let out a small chuckle.

"You're like, really pretty." She ran a hand through Cady's straight blonde hair.

"Thanks," as unsure as she was about it all, the girl suddenly felt all warm inside at the compliment from someone with such a high status.

"So you agree? You think you're really pretty?" The icy eyes were studying her, and she would have loved to know what was going through Regina's head.

"Oh, I don't know..."

"Oh my god, I love your bracelet," she suddenly grabbed her wrist and examined it. "Where did you get it?"

"My mom made it," Cady smiled, the warmth in her heart increasing. What was supposed to be so bad about them? They were quite nice.

"It's so fetch," Gretchen said.

"Have you ever touched a tiger?" Karen asked, playing with a lock of her own beautiful soft hair.

"No, those are mostly in India..."

"'Cause that's one of my life goals. To not touch a tiger," Karen affirmed matter-of-factly.

"Uh...by the way, thanks for helping me with that guy. He was being pretty rude."

"Oh, of course. Us girls have to stick together, don't we? Give us some privacy."

She turned and she and the two other plastics conferred amongst themselves. Cady stood awkwardly, looking back at the line and realizing it had moved on without her, losing her her spot. She sighed, figuring they'd be out of nachos already, one of the best-prepared things in that cafeteria by far.

But then, surprising her a bit, the girl from earlier, Martha, approached her with a shy smile.

"Hi, I just wanted to say I really appreciate what you did, you're really kind. Here," she added, handing her one of the two nachos she had. "I grabbed you one."

Cady raised her eyebrows a bit surprised, but smiled back.

"Thank-"

"Right!" Regina clapped, bringing back attention to herself. "We never really do this, but we've decided you can have lunch with us this week. You are so lost here, you need us."

"It'll be so fetch!" Gretchen said, clearly trying to make the odd expression a thing.

"On Wednesdays we wear pink," Karen declared as well with a grin.

"Come on, there's so much to teach you." Regina eyed Martha like she was dirt on her shoe, and slid her arm around Cady, taking her away before the girl had a chance to say anything else.

Nonetheless, Cady smiled to herself, forgetting about the food. It was all going so well!

As they sat down to eat, they explained the rules to her. No tank tops two days in a row, hair in a ponytail only once a week, sweats and track pants exclusively on Fridays, break any of these rules and you can't sit with us. She memorized it all like she memorized mathematical principles, knowing she had to stay on their good side, to have a successful symbiotic or commensal relationship. The conversation then shifted to calories and the mall, agreeing they would go there later, and, to her surprise, commenting about how they had to go to the theater room after lunch. Apparently, all three of them had signed up for the play, though they didn't specify any reason for it.

Jeremy.

Jeremy stood in front of the play practice room, staring at the door, hesitating.

"You're not gonna open it with your mind," Michael said, next to him. "Though that would be really cool."

"Maybe evolution's not for everyone," Jer murmured dejectedly.

"You don't have to do this. Of course, I'll mock you forever if you don't."

Jeremy took a deep breath. This was for Christine, it was all he wanted, he reminded himself, opening the door.

"See you later," he said to his friend. "And, thanks, I...really appreciate your support," he said a bit awkwardly, but honestly.

"Awwww you weally appweciate my suppowt?" Michael mocked with an overly sweet tone, taking his hands to his chest as if moved.

Jeremy chuckled and hit him, to which the other laughed as well.

"Shut up."

Going in, he saw the empty stage framed by the giant red pulled-up curtains. Some chairs were scattered around on top, and in one of them, alone, was Christine. He took a deep breath.

"Yo!" he said approaching.

"Yo."

"Is this where you meet for the play?" He asked stupidly.

"Nope. This is where you meet for the swim team," she explained.

"Oh-"

"I'm joking!" Christine giggled.

"I'm Jeremy! I mean-" oh man he was starting to sweat, his heart pounding. Why couldn't his brain just, like, work?

She eyed him curiously.

"Are you okay? You seem nervous."

"No, I always...sweat... this much..." well that was about the worst thing he could have possibly said, he thought, right next to 'I kick babies' and 'I never refill the toilet paper when I used up the last roll.'

"I get it. You're a virgin!"

Jeremy looked at her shocked.

"First play rehearsal!" She continued.

Oh.

So that's what she thought he was nervous about. Better than the truth.

"Uh, hah, yeah, totally freaked."

"It's okay, I'm a little jealous actually, you never forget your first. Play rehearsal." She looked around at the empty rows of seats. "Coming here is the highlight..."

"Of your day?" Jeremy tried, sitting down next to her.

"Of my LIFE!" she grinned. "I just love it, it's the best! I feel so depressed when it's done...but not like, kill yourself depressed!" she quickly corrected, her mind seemingly in a million places at once. "Just like- I'm just very passionate about it. About a lot of things, actually. I have a lot of feelings about a lot of things. And, you know, most people...they only get to do one thing with their lives. But I can live a million lives! Here! And it's easy, because I just have to follow a script. And it all makes sense, even the sucky parts, it's all for something...It all gives meaning and leads to the happy ending, you know?"

She looked back at him. Jeremy was listening intently, getting a bit lost in her voice and vibrant expression.

"I'm not sure why I'm telling you all this," she continued with a small smile. "I guess a part of me wants to."

"Really?"

"There's also a part of me that wants to do this!" She scrunched up her face, crossed her eyes, stuck out her tongue and made a weird goblin-like freak-out noise, surprising him. "Blaaah! So I did it."

Jeremy chuckled a bit to himself. He admired how she didn't seem to have to overthink every little thing as he did. She just...did it, not caring what people thought.

He started to wonder where everyone else was, and was just starting to feel hopeful it would be just the two of them, the whole year, when-

A flurry of noise made its way into the room. Jeremy made himself small in his seat: it was the popular kids, on the Plastic side of things. Jake, Chloe, Brooke, and even Rich. Crap.

"Woohoo! Let's start this party!" Jake said, and Rich cheered.

It wasn't all though, because then the actual Plastics appeared. His eyes widened, what were they all doing here? Since when did the most popular students care about theater? He spotted Cady among them, and gave her a small wave, which the girl returned discreetly.

"I do hope you weren't planning on starting anything without me, Jakey," Regina purred, her entourage following.

Chloe looked bothered. She had the highest status in her own group, but when Regina and the others were there, she was immediately obscured.

What he really didn't expect, was for the Heathers to arrive as well.

And as Heather Chandler made her way up the stage with her fierce look, he suddenly feared he'd be right in the crossfire of yet another popularity battle. And he very much was.

Chapter Text

Cady.

"Well fuck me gently with a chainsaw, if it isn't the flamingo squad," Heather Chandler remarked, as usual a hand on her hip and a derisive smile on her face.

"That's bold coming from the group that takes color inspiration from Teletubbies characters," Regina retorted. "Or were you trying to replicate a human traffic light?"

They both glared viciously at each other.

Cady stood firmly next to Gretchen, realizing she had a group now (even if it was just to spy on them) and had to stand by their side. Jake stepped forward, trying to diffuse the situation instead. His best friends may have hung out with the plastics more, but he was the closest thing to a neutral party among the popular people, and tried to stay on good terms with all of them.

"Girls, come on, maybe we should all just-"

"Shut it, Jake!" both queen bees spat at the same time.

He grinned.

"See? You have more in common than you realize!"

Regina groaned and Heather C rolled her eyes. Before anything else could be said or blood could spill, the teacher appeared.

Miss Flemming gave them all a big smile.

"Such a big turnup this year!" she exclaimed approvingly. "Hello everyone! I'd like to think this keen interest in Theater this year is because I became the new teacher, and not just for the broadcast."

"Personally, Miss Flemming, I just want what's best for the school," Heather Chandler said sweetly, in her best imitation of a nice girl, which is exactly what all adults saw when they looked at her.

"Excuse me, broadcast?" Cady asked curiously.

"Well, yes! The school informed me that unless our popularity increased, our funds would be diverted. To the Frisbee Golf Team," she said it like it was a curse word. "So I pulled some strings, it was nothing, really, just some contacts from my more liberal days..." Her fake modesty was painfully apparent. "And anyway, the first full performance of our play will be broadcasted through television and online nationwide for an audience of millions of viewers!"

Cady was surprised. And quickly, it all started making sense, this interest the popular kids had in the play, how they were butting heads... they could go from being royalty only in their high schools to being sensations in the whole country, extend their webs, their influence, across many states. It was a bit scary, even.

"So we need to pull off a very good show, make the school proud!"

A girl Cady hadn't met yet energetically raised her hand.

"Yes, Christine?"

"What play are we gonna do?"

"Our own," the teacher informed them with a grin, to everyone's dismay. She took her hands to her chest. "One that comes from the very depths of our hearts! We will talk, lay down all our fears, our dreams, and make an emotional, heartfelt, deep, original play out of it!"

Most students seemed displeased with that.

"I think that sounds quite nice," Heather McNamara said with a hopeful smile.

Heather rolled her eyes, and then raised her own perfectly manicured hand.

"Miss Flemming, what about the characters? I'm assuming there will be a prominent lead to carry out our deep, heartfelt message properly? Because I feel like I would-"

The teacher cut her off with a dismissal wave.

"We'll see all about that later. In a way though, you will all be the stars. For now, let's take a five-minute break. I need to meditate to polish my aura. And eat a Hot Pocket."

She left, and soon the noise from loud conversations started back up.

"Theater's easy, yo!" Rich claimed excitedly, to which Jake laughed, agreeing.

"So what's the story with Jake and Madeline? Heard there was some pool involved, some losing at pool, on purpose, to get laid," Gretchen pried from Chloe in murmurs.

Through it all, Cady diligently did her best to listen in and get a hang of how the popular kids worked.

Jeremy.

Jeremy didn't care much about what the play was about, but he did notice Christine seemed a bit dejected, muttering something about having hoped to do Shakespeare. He gathered the courage and was about to talk to her, when Jake stepped in first.

"Hey!" he greeted swaggering up to the girl, all cool like, like Jeremy just couldn't be. "You were in that play last year."

"You mean Romeo and Juliet?"

"Yeah, you were the girl who died!" he exclaimed a bit too enthusiastically considering what he was saying. Then again, he was always enthusiastic.

"You mean Juliet?"

"Yeah!" he grinned. "...That was depressing."

"Thanks..." she said, a bit unsure.

"But...you were good. I'm Jake."

"I...know."

"Cool," he casually stuffed his hands in the pockets of his bright red jacket. "Can I say something stupid? When I saw you die in the play last year... That was like, the saddest I'd felt in a long time. It was like everything in my life, all the pressure I feel to be the best, at everything, all the time...Suddenly felt so small. And then, when you got up at the end for your victory dance..."

"Bow, it's called a bow," Christine corrected with a slight smile.

"Right! I remember thinking, 'I'm glad that girl's not dead...before I ever got a chance to know her'. Stupid, right?"

Godammit, why did he have to be so, so... effortlessly charming? Jeremy thought in distress. Especially because Christine's expression had changed from uncertain to curious, staring at Jake as if she was seeing him for the first time.

"That's...not stupid at all," she said.

"Cool," he showed a bright smile. "Hey, a bunch of us are going out on Friday after practice, you should join! Parting is such sweet..."

"Sorrow?" Christine supplied, chuckling a bit at him confusing partying with parting.

"Whatever," then, suddenly, Jake noticed Jeremy awkwardly standing nearby. "Hey, dude, someone wrote BOYF on your backpack," he informed him. Then he smiled back at Christine, waving lightly at her before going back to his friends.

"So, I heard this thing about how humans aren't evolv-" Jeremy started saying to the girl, who was looking at where Jake had left, but soon turned to him.

"I'm sorry, Jeremy. Did you say something?"

"...Forget it," he murmured.

At least, he didn't have a breakdown in front of everyone. At least Christine was aware of his existence. He decided to hold on to that.

After rehearsal, he went to the bathroom to try to wash off the scribbling on his backpack, though to no avail. He'd vaguely hoped it would fade as days passed, but it hadn't. Why did the guy have to use a permanent marker...?

"I told you not to wash that off," Rich walked in, startling Jeremy, who jumped a bit.

The boy quickly started pretending to be searching for something instead of having been washing it.

"Where's that homework..." he murmured, showing off the excellent acting skills he'd be using for the school play.

"I'm talking to you, tall-ass!"

He clapped Jeremy's shoulders, who moved away like an anxious rabbit.

"Why do you always call me that? I'm not even that tall!"

Then again, pretty much everyone was tall next to Rich's 5'5. How could someone so short be so intimidating?

"You could be, if you weren't hunched over all scared all the time," he noted, moving to a urinal.

Jeremy started sliding away to what he considered relative safety.

"The only thing more pathetic is the way you're sneaking off to a stall to get away from me," he continued, not even looking at him.

Jeremy stopped in his tracks, busted. It was exactly what he had been doing.

"Stall's for girls. You a girl, Jeremy? You're the girl in your relationship with your little geek boyfriend?" he mocked in a derisive tone.

Jeremy ignored that, he didn't know why the guy was always going on and on about queer-based insults. I'm not really attracted to men, but so what if I was? What's wrong with that? Unless you're projecting something? he wanted to say, but of course, didn't. That would have required guts he didn't have, and an utter disregard for his body staying in one piece.

Instead, he focused on the leaking sound that accompanied Rich's words.

"How can you talk to people while you're...you know?" he wondered.

"Confidence," Rich smirked, swaying his hips.

That sway however, suddenly turned into a strange twitching. He started muttering to himself under his breath, his eyes rolled back towards the ceiling. It was creepy.

"Uh...I just remembered I don't have to pee after all," Jeremy tried to escape the situation.

"Don't move."

The ice-cold, certain tone made him freeze in place.

"You don't remember me from freshman year, do you?" Rich asked, zipping up and walking up to him menacingly.

"You...didn't go here freshman year..."

He pounded the door of one of the stalls, making the whole thing shake.

"I DID! You just didn't notice! Nobody did!"

Jeremy had no idea what to say, but he didn't have a chance to speak anyway, because Rich soon continued.

"Freshman year, I had no girlfriend, no clue, I was a mess, gross, lonely...my penis was depressed, Jeremy! I was suicidal as fuck, too...but then..."

"Then?" Jeremy prompted, both scared and curious.

"I got a Squip."

"You got...quick?"

"Not quick! Squip! It's some top-secret-can't-even-look-it-up-on-the-internet shit. IT'S FROM JAPAN!" he suddenly yelled, almost scaring the life out of Jeremy.

"It's this grey oblong pill, quantum nanotechnology CPU. A supercomputer, in the pill, that travels through your blood and implants in your brain. It tells you what to do."

"What? That's not even possible-"

Rich shoved him against a wall, keeping him there.

"Shut up, tall-ass!" Then his mad expression had an abrupt change, and he suddenly let him go. "Sorry, old habits. Look, sorry for treating you like human garbage all this time, my Squip said I had to, that that's how I have to treat all the outcasts. But now it's saying you aren't a bad guy. And that you might want a squip of your own."

"So it's like..." Jeremy looked to the sides and back at Rich. "Drugs?" he whispered.

"It's better than drugs, Jeremy! What part of supercomputer did you not understand? It'll talk to you directly, give you directions, show you how to be cool and hip. You'll be able to get away with everything, be loved by everyone, have fun, be on the social map...actually live your life instead of being a miserable loser all the time. I got a hookup, this guy works at Payless Shoes at the Menlo Park Mall. It's six hundred."

"...Dollars?"

"It's worth it. Bring the money tomorrow, you'll see."

Rich left. Without washing his hands. And Jeremy was left thinking...

Some help and guidance to navigate the messy social world? A chance to be loved, and... cool?

Chapter Text

Cady.

Cady walked through the back door of Regina's house, or more like mansion, amazed at the size, modern high-class architecture and aggrandized decoration of the place. Almost everything was white. But despite what it must have been worth, it appeared rather cold, with barely any personal touches, like a museum more than a home.

"We'll get ready here and then get to the mall," Regina ordered, heading upstairs followed as usual by the others.

Regina's room was quite different from the rest of the house: still cold, but it was almost completely pink, from the bed covers to the walls and furniture, and it definitely had a lot of her personality, with photos and posters and tons of makeup. Somehow, the excess of pink worked, everything matched perfectly and nothing seemed out of place.

"Your room's really nice," Cady said honestly, looking around.

"I know, right? It was my parents' room but I made them trade me," she explained, and then her tone immediately changed into a growl. "Gretchen, move," she snarled.

The girl was looking at herself in the large mirror, and quickly moved out of the way.

"Sorry!"

Regina stood in the center, Gretchen and Karen on each side, and they all began inspecting themselves in the mirror.

"Ugh, my hips are so wide," Gretchen whined.

"I need to lose three pounds," Regina ran her hands through her hips.

"My ankles look like dog ankles," Karen pouted.

Suddenly, they all turned to Cady, with an expectant look. She was sitting on the edge of the bed, and though a bit surprised, quickly picked up on the gimmick.

"Uh...me too, I'm ugly too," she tried, even though she didn't really believe it. She didn't think she was stunning or anything, but her parents had always taught her to appreciate herself and she didn't really have many self-esteem issues regarding her appearance.

Seeming satisfied with that, the plastics turned back to the mirror. Then a woman burst in, and it was pretty easy to tell she was Regina's mom: she looked just like her, only much older, and clearly trying really hard (and failing) not to look her actual age. She was dressed all in pink, with a hairdo so elaborate and rigid it was pretty much glued to her skull, and an adorable but grumpy-looking chihuahua under her arm.

"OMF, you guys are soooo busted!" she exclaimed.

"Hi, Mrs George!" Gretchen and Karen said in unison.

"Did you fly bitches come in through the garage? I didn't even hear you!"

"Maybe that was on purpose," Regina said curtly.

Unfazed by the harshness, as if it was normal, Mrs George approached Cady. The dog sniffed her, and she happily let it sniff her hand and pet its head.

"And who are you?! We haven't had new meat in our little lady taco in so long!"

"Mom-"

"I'm Cady Heron," Cady smiled. "I just moved here. From Africa."

"Well welcome Cady, welcome to America!" She suddenly looked at the girls with complicity, as if she was one of them. "You'll like it here, I always say, this school district has the highest taxes but the hottest boys, so-"

"Ew," Regina scrunched her face.

"Oh Regina! You'll never guess what I found in the back of your closet!"

"I told you a million times not to touch my stuff."

"I was doing that Japanese organizing thing where you take a little nap in the closet...anyway, I found your-" she made a pause for suspense, and then raised a book with her free hand. "Buuuuuuuuurnbooooook!! Cady, this was just the funniest thing they used to do..."

"Mommy, get out," Regina ordered. Cady was amazed at the way she talked to and dismissed her mother.

"You got it, baby! But I'll be right downstairs if you guys need to talk to me about anything, okay? Deep stuff, boy troubles, blackheads, alcohol poisoning- I've been through it all! I'm not a regular mom, I'm a #coolmom! @coolmom, twenty-three hundred followers. Followback. LikesforLikes."

After that shameless plug she exited, leaving the book on the vanity. It was big, lined in pink, and had some scribbling on it along with marks of lipstick kisses and the words "BURN BOOK" large on the cover. Karen grabbed it and sat on the bed next to Cady, flipping through it.

"Oh my god, we haven't looked at this in forever."

"Check it out, Cady," Gretchen said, sitting to her left. "We cut out people's pictures from the yearbook and then we wrote comments. Heather Duke returns her food, vomiting is a form of reproduction for her."

"Still true," Regina claimed with a smirk.

"Martha Dumptruck is a fat virgin. All Jeremy Heere dates is his hard drive."

"Will always be true," the queen bee snickered.

"Janis Sarkisian. Space Dyke. I forgot about that."

"Oh, watch out with that one, Cady. She's mental. People think she's good at art, but that's only because she had to do art therapy," Regina explained, snark clear in her voice.

"Regina and Janis used to be best friends," Gretchen added. "But Janis was obsessed with her, she had a big lesbian crush, and just completely lost it when Regina couldn't invite her to her 13th birthday party, because she could only invite 6 people. Totally insane."

Cady silently took in that information, guessing the girl, even though she hadn't met her yet, did sound pretty unreasonable in that story. Karen continued reading.

"Veronica Sawyer is a greasy little nobody and a wannabe cool."

"Guess she moved up the chain, but she'll always be a loser on the inside," Regina rolled her eyes. "Oh, let's add the newer kids, like that Jason Dean guy."

"Don't worry though Cady, we only write stuff about randos in here, friends are like- very deserving of respect and..."

"Gretchen, she gets it," Regina sharply cut her off.

Cady quietly nodded, lost in thought. She didn't like how they talked about people, it didn't quite sit right with her, but maybe this was what was considered okay here? And if it was what her friends wanted...

"How about, Jason Dean: human red flag?" she offered.

They all giggled.

"That's good, put that in there, and add edgelord too," Regina ordered, as Gretchen did so. "Now, Karen, come with me, I wanna change your eyebrows, and then we'll get dressed and go shopping."

Karen got up to follow her into the bathroom, and asked:

"Can I still have two?"

Jeremy.

The weight of zombies pushed him to the ground, three frenzied flesh-hungry mouths trying to devour his face. He thought he was doomed...and then three gunshots were heard around him and the zombies all became dead weight. Well, deader weight.

Michael reached out his hand and helped him up. It was a messed up world, but he knew his friend would always have his back. It was a two-player game, after all.

They had no time to waste though, and quickly continued smashing buttons to fight off the horde of undead. The tv hooked to his Nintendo was decently sized, and they had two comfortable retro bean bag chairs, and that plus snacks and sodas was enough to contentedly enjoy most of their afternoons there.

"So, what do you think?" Jeremy prompted. He had told him about his weird encounter with Rich, and the 'squip' he'd promised to sell him.

"A literal chill pill? ...He's scamming you. He's scamming you like, super weirdly."

"What if he's not? I mean this could be huge! All I need to do is give the guy who torments me six...hundred... he's totally scamming me." The realization hit him like a slap to the face. He sighed. "I'm doomed to be a loser till the end of the world." He watched the post-apocalyptic wasteland in the videogame in front of him. "Probably after, too."

"No way dude! You're cooler than a vintage cassette! To me, anyway."

But what if that's not enough? Jeremy thought, but decided not to say it. He wished he was more like his best friend, he seemed to not mind anything, just coursing through life enjoying himself, unbothered by the whole high school scheme. But no matter how much he wished for it, Jeremy just couldn't stop caring about everything.

"And I'm sure the others think so as well," Michael continued, his eyes glued to the screen as he smashed boxes looking for supplies. "The Detention Team. The Crime Crew. The Justice Troop."

Jeremy chuckled despite his dejected mood.

"Oh god don't call it any of those names ever again. And I don't know, I feel like JD and Connor would enjoy hitting me more than talking to me, and the girls probably don't even know my name. Evan's okay I guess, I just don't know how much of a group we really all are."

"We have a mission, don't we?"

"Sure but that doesn't really make us friends. But if I was cool, I..."

"Hey, what do I always say? Guys like us are..."

"Cool in college," they both said in unison, and Jeremy couldn't help but smile.

"But I don't know if I can wait two years."

They fell silent to focus on a sudden zombie attack from every corner, a boss that looked like a hundred zombies melted together breaking through the wall to fight them.

"Jeremy?" his father's voice came from downstairs.

"Shoot! Shoot!" Jeremy exclaimed.

"I am!" Michael replied as he unloaded all of his ammo.

"Son?" there was a knock on the door.

Jeremy sighed and paused the game as his father came in. The teen's eyes were cursed at the sight of his father's tight boxers.

"Ahh! Dad! Pants!"

"Is that a girl? Are you in there with a girl? Oh...Hi Michael."

Michael waved with an amused smile.

"Hey, Mr Heere."

"I was going to order pizza, is there something you boys want?"

"Dad, did you even get dressed today? At all?"

"Oh...they didn't need me at the office, I just worked from home."

"Most people wear pants at home."

"Well, that's why most people aren't your father." If it was meant to come out as a joke, it didn't really work, there was nothing but a tense silence. "Uh, good talk. I'll let you know when the pizza arrives."

Michael watched him awkwardly leave, and then turned to Jeremy.

"How is he doing?" he asked in a low voice.

"How does it look?" Jeremy muttered, focusing back on the game, though with much less enthusiasm.

"Have you heard from her...?"

Jeremy felt his jaw tighten. He didn't want to think about her, how she was living her life, away from them, happier because being alone was just so much better than having to deal with her screwed-up family.

"No. And who cares?" he said a bit more bluntly than he meant. "It's like, mom moved on, why can't he?"

"Hey..."

"I'm not gonna let that be my future," he stated determinedly, and stopped playing to turn to the other. "Rich said his hook-up was at the mall, what if we go there ourselves? Just to see if the story checks out?"

"And if it does? Will you be too cool for m...videogames?" Michael seemed to be trying to hide a worried look.

"No way," Jeremy assured him matter-of-factly, giving him a slight smile. "You're my favorite person, but that doesn't mean I don't have dreams."

"Is it really true? I'm your fawvooowite pewsoon?" Michael repeated mockingly.

Jeremy chuckled.

"We're always gonna be a team. I just need you to help me conquer high school."

Michael smiled warmly.

"To the mall, then!"

Chapter Text

Cady.                                 

The mall was huge, shiny and loud, the watering hole of the concrete jungle. And even though it was crowded, people squirmed out of the way as they saw Regina walk by, desperately not wanting to be chosen as the next target of ridicule. They cowered at her sight, and Cady couldn't help but, in a way, respect that. She'd been on the outlines, and she was reluctant to admit it, but it felt good as hell to belong by the Queen's side.

They hadn't walked around long before they ran into Jake and Christine, the latter struggling to match the tall guy's long strides.

"Shouldn't we wait for the rest of the cast?" she was saying.

Jake shrugged.

"Figured we could rather get to know each other, alone." His smile was warm and friendly. "That's why I'm taking you to one of my favorite spots in the universe!! Sbarro-"

"Hi, Jakey," Regina purred behind him.

"Oh, there they are!" Christine said.

Jake turned. "Oh, right." He passed it off as if meeting The Plastics there had all been planned. Cady guessed he was used to things just working out for him as he went along with them. "Hey, Regina...!" Despite his welcome, his tone betrayed the slightest disappointment, which was quickly covered by his usual cool, cheerful demeanor. "And Karen, and Gretchen, and...Cady, right?"

Cady nodded, happy he'd remembered.

"Are you inviting your new little toy to your Halloween party?" Regina continued, to which Christine flinched. "Because if you are, Chloe will want to know about it, considering you two used to date and all. You know, if you've forgotten about her already. She's my friend, so I'm just looking out for her." Her angelical, innocent look could have almost fooled anyone into thinking she had only the noblest intentions. But Cady knew she just liked stirring chaos, to prove at all times she was the one in control.

Jake looked uncomfortable for a moment, but then his eyes widened with excitement, and he turned to Christine.

"Oh, yeah! I'm throwing a Halloween party next week! My parents laundered money and are on the run now, so the house is empty! It'll be big fun!"

"Wait, what? That's... illegal," Christine said, shocked.

"Sure! So will you come?"

The girl hesitated before finally agreeing, a small smile on her face. Soon after, they both left to go grab some food.

"It's pathetic how she wants to bone her way into popularity," Regina said shaking her head, watching them go. Then she laughed a little. "Once the novelty wears off and he loses interest, she'll learn her lesson. Anyway, I want to check out Victoria's Secret's new collection, move it."

While Regina and Karen got ahead to check the store, Gretchen and Cady hung back a bit.

"So, have you seen any guys you think are cute yet?" Gretchen pried, barely hiding a highly calculating mind under a casual tone.

Cady absentmindedly played with her hair, a shy smile reaching her lips.

"There's this guy in my AP Calculus class. Aaron Samuels?"

Gretchen gasped so hard and so dramatically Cady for a second feared she would choke or bust a lung.

"No! No! No! That's Regina's ex-boyfriend! He just broke up with her during the summer!" she was looking at Cady as if she'd just told her she murdered someone. "Ex-boyfriends are completely off-limits to friends. It's the rules of feminism."

Dammit. Of course things were just going too well... If Regina considered her a reproductive threat, her protective predator would turn and shred her up in an instant.

"Don't worry, I'll never tell Regina what you said," Gretchen went on to assure her. Then she looked ahead, where Regina was holding a piece of lingerie in front of Karen as if gauging how it looked on her. "Did Regina seem mad at me earlier?"

"I don't know. So that's the kind of girl Aaron usually likes? Like with makeup and stuff?"

"Yes. She did seem mad at me, I think. Probably started when I burped in the car." She sighed, her eyes never leaving Regina as she talked. "Sometimes I just feel like...like an iPhone without a case. Like, I know I'm worth a lot, and I have a lot of good functions, but at any point I could just... shatter. All I need is for her to tell me what's wrong with me. My hair, my face, my body, my clothes... I need her to tell me, so I can fix it. As long as she doesn't ignore me, as long as she tells me what to feel, it will all be fine."

Before Cady could think of anything helpful to say to that sudden, heartfelt confession, Regina walked back to them.

"Come on, I'm getting you some shoes, Cady. Some suede heels to lift your butt."

"Uhm, thank you?" Cady eagerly followed, although she was unable to shake Gretchen's words off her mind for a while. Just how capable of damage was Regina?

Jeremy.

There was a scary-looking guy next to the Payless Shoes store, with a stock boy's uniform, although his physique: large, with defined muscles, multiple tattoos, and a jaded look that had seen a lot,  resembled more someone just out of prison.

Michael pushed Jeremy forward toward the man, and Jeremy gulped.

"...I like your sideburns. Wolverine, right?" he tried, smiling nervously at the guy.

The employee turned to look at him, expressionless.

"Let's see the money."

"I..."

"You're here for the quantum nanotechnology CPU?"

"How did you know...?"

"Just look at you, kid. Got the four hundred?"

"Four hundred? I thought it was siii-ooow!"

Michael had elbowed him mid-sentence.

"I mean yes, I got it!" Happy he'd get to keep at least some of his Bar Mitzvah money, Jeremy took two hundred out of the envelope and handed the rest to the man; who took it, counted it, and then nodded, giving him a ladies' shoe box.

Jeremy opened the box, curiously peeking inside. There were tons of silver-colored pills in it.

He tried to see something...computery about them, but they didn't look much different than a Tylenol. Or an overpriced wintergreen tic tac.

The employee took one out, gave it to Jeremy, and closed the box.

"Just so we're clear, this technology is untested, and not exactly legal. I take no responsibility for what you may do with it. Or what it may do with you."

"What it might-"

"Activate it with Mountain Dew. And this is important..."

Whatever he was about to say was interrupted by The Plastics walking in.

"We're sold out!" the worker barked at them, hiding the box.

"Of... shoes?" Karen blinked. "Oh, no. I had a nightmare about this."

"Oh, you're here for shoes, my bad!" The man's entire demeanor changed in an instant, from sketchy dealer to eager salesman. "We just got in a killer pair of pumps..."

Without another word to Jeremy, he guided the girls inside. The boy noticed Cady was among them, and she hung back.

"Hey! Didn't expect to see you here," she smiled.

"Yo! Heh, yeah..."

"Are you buying shoes?"

"Uh..."

"Actually, we're here because a guy in Spencer's Gifts is hooking me up with a case of Crystal Pepsi," Michael interjected, saving him from some terrible attempt at an excuse. "It's like regular Pepsi, but clear. It was discontinued in the 90s!"

Cady tilted her head.

"So you're buying really old soda, on purpose? Huh... Well, have fun!"

She was about to go in after the girls, but Jeremy stopped her.

"Wait, Cady..."

"Yeah?"

"...What's it like? You know...turning popular?"

Cady stood still at that question. She looked at the group ahead, inside the store, quiet for a minute, and then back at Jeremy.

"It's not good. You'd uh, think it is, but...it's just not. It's just more pressure and more eyes on you to judge everything you do." Her gaze lingered on Gretchen with quiet sympathy, and then she gave the same look to Jeremy. "Some people aren't cut out for it...and I'm just doing this for you guys."

Regina then called Cady like one would a dog.

"Well, that's for me, gotta go! See you tomorrow at detention though, bye!" With that, she hurried after her new friends, a bit more excitedly than her previous words would have implied.

Jeremy was thoughtful for a moment, clutching the pill that suddenly just seemed so much heavier. Was this really what he wanted? If it was really how Cady claimed...then maybe Michael was right, maybe what he had was enough.

On the other hand, he was certainly really tired of over-analyzing everything and being so awkward all the time, like a robot that just hadn't been programmed with social code. But that's precisely what he'd turn into if he did take it, right? A robot. Artificial.  He was sick of being himself, but not convinced whatever replaced it would be the right thing.

"There's a vending machine, let's get that Mountain Dew," Michael said.

"Maybe...maybe let's just go buy your Pepsis for now?" Jeremy suggested instead, rubbing his arm. He didn't need to say anything else, because his friend seemed to understand.

Feeling unsure about it all, Jeremy decided to save the pill in his pocket for the time being, and followed Michael. His chance at popularity wouldn't go anywhere, after all. He'd just think it over some more at home.

He didn't know it at the time, he couldn't have, but that decision, as small as it seemed at the moment, is what ended up saving his life.

Chapter Text

Veronica.

As Veronica walked into the detention room that Saturday, she was pleasantly surprised to see JD already there, all alone, as usual his head buried in a book, Nietzsche's The Birth of Tragedy. Of course. She smiled, sidling up to him.

"Well look who got in trouble on purpose just to see us."

JD raised his head as soon as she spoke, perking up at the sight of her. He marked the page, put the book away and furrowed his brows, acting offended, even though a smile cracked at the corners of his mouth, betraying his playfulness.

"Terribly presumptuous of you to assume I got in trouble just to see you, Veronica," he remarked. "But, saved you the best seats in the house," he patted the chair next to him.

She sat down, thinking it was the best seat only because he was next to it, but quickly scrapped that thought as too cheesy.

"Well, the fight was only one Saturday's detention, so what else did you do?"

"Argued with a teacher over the archaic biology textbook they make us read. The evolution chapter was all wishy-washy to not upset any churches, for christ's sake. Guess giving me detention was easier than admitting I was right," he said a bit too haughtily.

She chuckled.

"And you just had to talk back, huh? Specifically on week two of reading said textbook?"

His smirk turned into more of a coy smile. He scratched the back of his head.

"Well, maybe you were right. I did want to see you."

He said it with an assuredness that made her cheeks flush ever so slightly. Getting in trouble and ruining his Saturday morning just so he could sit next to her in a room where they could barely even talk just had to be the most romantic thing a guy had done for her. In a bit of a warped way, but still.

"Besides, isn't this where we meet for our little extracurricular project anyway?" he added.

"Look at you Mr Loner Too Cool for School being a team player," she giggled, turning her head as she heard Connor and Evan come in. She'd spotted them both chatting at the entrance earlier, but hadn't wanted to interrupt.

"Greetings and salutations," JD said.

"Surprised you two aren't making out yet," Connor said, to which JD threw him a glare, but he just laughed, raising his hands defensively. "I'm just saying."

Biting her lip, Veronica mentally admitted she wondered the same. The tension with the two popular trios had kept her so busy, the fear of ending up as a casualty of the war so glued to Heather's heels, that she hadn't allowed herself to go for anything outside of that. To have him. But maybe she was getting a bit tired of playing their reindeer games.

About twenty minutes later, they were once again all gathered in a circle, with Mr Washington's predicted snoring as background noise.

"Good job on joining The Plastics, by the way," Veronica told Cady with a smile. They hadn't really been able to talk since last Saturday, but she had of course kept an eye on her progress, like all of the school had.

And Cady had really blended in. She even dressed differently, from the comfortable outdoorsy outfits to high-end skirts and blouses.

"They aren't that bad," Cady commented, running a hand through her hair. "Maybe you're all judging them a bit too harshly."

"They're literally destroying the school," Jeremy countered.

"Maybe that's more of the Heathers' fault," Cady muttered.

"It's all of their fault," Veronica said sharply, as the two girls stared at each other.

The climate was tense, there was a palpable difference from the first Saturday.

"So, um, has anyone- has anyone found out anything we can use? To help the school?" Evan asked, wanting to ease the tension.

"We've been looking up who the State Board of Education is going to send here, to review," Michael said, gesturing to himself and Jeremy. "Know thy enemy, right? It's all on their database."

"Oh? Who is it?" Veronica asked curiously, tearing her eyes away from Cady.

Jeremy grabbed his backpack to retrieve the info. Trying to open it, he realized the zipper was jammed shut, and in his increasing efforts to open the thing, he accidentally jabbed Connor in the ribs with his elbow. The guy gave him a deadly glare, grabbed the backpack, to Jeremy's weak protest, and forced it open, throwing it back to him. Jeremy mumbled some sort of thanks, cursing his own awkwardness, and finally pulled out his laptop with a full battery, setting it on his lap. Opening up a document, he read aloud:

"Um, her name's Tina Pasek O'Keefe Iconis. From what we saw, she likes dogs, though who doesn't amirite," he chuckled a bit nervously, unused to having everyone's attention on him. "Oh, and also theater. Like, a lot lot. Kind of obsessed with it, she had photos about it everywhere."

"So the school play is something she could be interested in," JD said thoughtfully. "I mean, if when she came she saw that this is a school that puts a lot of passion and care into theater..."

"...It might be a school she will push to preserve," Veronica finished for him.

He nodded, seemingly happy to be on the same page as her.

"So we make sure there's a lot about the play when she shows up, and that it's like, actually good," Connor said. "Never gone to one of those things but I bet they're shit though."

"Please don't swear," Evan said quietly, to which Connor just rolled his eyes, amused.

"It shouldn't be hard to make it memorable," Cady said excitedly. "If there's something popular kids know how to do is be in the spotlight and make things big, right? And they're all in the play. And with the broadcast thing..."

"Broadcast?" JD asked.

She nodded.

"Millions of people will see it. It'll be fetch!"

"Okay, well, that's one thing to work on, keep the board happy through the play," Veronica said, taking it all in. "Did you find anything about the plastics, Cady?"

"Well...there's one thing," the girl said, suddenly looking a bit uneasy. "Uhm, Regina has this thing they call The Burn Book. Basically they just write mean things about people at school."

"Are we in it?" Connor asked, guessing the answer, and then, a bit more aggressively: "What does it say about me?"

"Uhm, that doesn't matter," Cady quickly evaded, desperately not wanting to get into all that. "I don't know if the book matters at all, really."

"No, that's good!" Veronica exclaimed. "We can definitely use that...somehow."

They all grew quiet as they tried to think.

"Well, the- the point is to weaken them, right?" Evan spoke, breaking the silence. "And, well, if you uhm, if you got them to fight amongst themselves, that would make them weaker."

"Divide and conquer," JD nodded in agreement. "Worked for Cesar."

"Uh-huh. And this book...what if there were mean things about Karen and Gretchen, and they thought Regina wrote it about them? They- they would be mad at her, probably more likely to separate," Evan finished.

They all looked at him quite impressed.

"You had us all fooled with your sweet look, when you're actually a proper evil mastermind!" Connor laughed, patting his back, seeming proud.

"I'm not evil," Evan frowned. "I just...some lies can be helpful sometimes, to make good things."

"Whatever you say, Moriarty," Connor chuckled.

"And I can forge Regina's handwriting no problem!" Veronica noted, liking the plan. "You just need to get us that burn book."

"Uh, I don't know..." Cady absentmindedly played with her hair, uncomfortable. "That would hurt them."

"It's like Evan said, sometimes you have to do shitty things to get a good result. It's simply necessary if you want the good outcome."

"I guess..." Cady thought about the three girls, and then looked around at the kids before her, their expectant and hopeful faces, wanting something she could give them, so they'd be happy with her. Approve of her. She believed she had spared both Jeremy and herself from the harshness of rejection by assuring them at the mall she wasn't actually enjoying her new social circle, but maybe that wasn't enough. She took a deep breath. "Okay, okay, I'll do it. I'll get you that book."

It felt like they'd made good progress on the whole mission front. As afternoon rolled around, the teacher seemed to automatically wake up, just in time to dismiss them and leave. This time they didn't even have to fill in a survey about their bad behavior and how they promised to improve. In any case, Veronica certainly had no plans to return to detention's excruciatingly dull room, she wasn't going to waste her grand IQ counting how many tiles there were on the ground. She was busy wasting it on deciding which color of lip gloss to wear.

"Let me take you to the 7-eleven," JD said to her, as they gathered their things.

She was about to make some snarky comment about how that was about as luxurious and stylish as going to McDonald's, but decided against it, remembering how much he seemed to like that place. For whatever reason.

"Only if you get me a Big Gulp," she smiled. She checked her swatch. "I still got about an hour before we have to meet at Heather's house. We got a Remmington party tonight," she said that last bit with ironic flair.

"I'm sure we can accommodate to the T-Birds and Pink Ladies' schedule." If he was disappointed at her limited time, he didn't show it.

Connor gave him a knowing smile, wiggling his eyebrows, and JD just smirked, rolling his eyes as if exasperated by him, and shot back by nodding at a distracted Evan.

After they all said goodbye, Veronica happily led the way to the 7-eleven around the corner. Finally, a first date of sorts! She could barely contain her excitement.

Little did she know, it wasn't the only date of sorts from the group that would be going on that afternoon.

Chapter Text

Evan.

As Evan walked to the bus stop, he realized he was going in the same direction as Connor. Trying to avoid the awkwardness of walking together after they'd already said 'later', he picked up the pace, but Connor already naturally walked faster than him on account of his long legs, so they remained side by side. Evan felt his hands getting clammy, suddenly not knowing what to do with them, what posture would be considered natural.

Connor glanced at him, and noticing his growing distress, tilted his head.

"You good?"

"Yeah!" Evan exclaimed a bit too loudly, so quickly lowered his voice, rubbing the back of his neck. "Yeah, I'm- great." 

"Hm." Now Connor was giving the other a curious look. After a moment, he got in front of him, cutting off his pace, and bluntly asked: "Alright, what is it? Why are you always so jumpy around me? Are you scared of me, Hansen?"

There was a menace to his undertone, a bit ironic for someone questioning how fear-inducing they were.

Evan swallowed, worried he'd done something wrong, like he always did. He scrambled for words for a bit before settling for a simple:

"No."

And it was honest. Connor may have had a terrible reputation that painted him as a psychopath with a short temper, but in truth...Evan could see beyond that. He was alone, and hurting. Like an injured animal that when backed into a corner, would lash out, but only in pain and fear. And he could recognize it, because he was the same. The only difference was that Evan directed all his frustration toward himself, convinced everything was always his fault, while Connor seemed more angry at the world and other people. But in the end, it was the same pain, the struggle of being alone he knew all too well.

"You're..." he continued, though suddenly unsure of the best words, ones that would be taken well. "A nice guy, Connor."

Instead of a glower or a harsh comeback, he heard a cackle. Evan went from avoiding eye contact to raising his gaze to Connor's suddenly amused expression.

"A nice guy?" Connor repeated between laughs. "You must have hit your head too when you broke that arm."

"I mean it," Evan said defensively.

"I'm a probably-future-drop-out and current fuck up stoner who throws printers at teachers and shouts at people."

"That's just the outside. Although...you could apply yourself a little more, with some things," he admitted.

Connor shook his head, looking somewhere between highly amused and genuinely surprised.

"I swear you're a walking bumper sticker, Hansen."

He wasn't sure what to make of that. Soon Connor moved out of his way and they kept walking, until Evan reached the bus stop.

"Are you... taking the bus too?" he asked Connor. He'd never actually seen him on it.

"Nah, my house is farther that way, I'm walking."

"Oh."

"Then again, I don't really want to go home yet. Might go to the park for a bit." He seemed to be thinking out loud.

"Oh, the one nearby, Wickery Park? I love that one! If you're looking for something cool, they have this really old coniferous tree with a whole family of squirrels on it. It's pretty neat."

Although Evan was hoping for amazement at his knowledge, Connor looked at him with more of an entertained expression. But there was something else in his chestnut-colored eyes too, that he couldn't quite decipher.

Connor looked ahead and then back at Evan, indecisive.

"Wanna come?" he offered, scratching the back of his head.

Evan froze, a bit taken aback. He certainly didn't expect Connor, or anyone for that matter, to want to spend time with him, other than what was strictly necessary as classmates. He had no obligation to include Evan on this...and yet he'd invited him. To actually hang out. With another human that wasn't a family member. Like friends did. He got excited at the idea.

The bus turned the corner and started approaching. But Evan knew there really wasn't anything for him at home, just a small empty house with a frozen pizza. So he nodded, and letting the bus pass by, turned to Connor, offering a giddy, somewhat nervous smile.

"Yeah, I'd like that."

Connor.

The birds chirping, hidden among the bright-colored foliage of the many trees, gave the park a nice feeling of calmness, not many people passing by.

Evan led Connor straight to the nest of squirrels he'd mentioned, and Connor couldn't help but smile while raising his eyebrows, albeit he seemed to be enjoying Evan's dorky enthusiasm over it more than the critters themselves.

"See? It's right there, there's like five of them, I swear!" Evan said, staring at a little nook high up in the tree, though you couldn't see anything moving.

"I believe you, I know you wouldn't lie when it comes to squirrel matters," Connor replied in a mock solemn tone, sliding his back down the tree into a sitting position.

He looked ahead, taking a slow, deep breath. It felt...nice, the fresh air, the quiet sounds of nature, no shouting and fighting, and no need to keep his guard up too much. Just...exist, and breathe. Maybe Hansen was onto something when he'd suggested for him to go on walks in nature, not that he would admit it.

"You know what's missing?" he said, his gaze still lost in the horizon, and Evan turned to him, listening intently. "Ice-cream. Oh man, there is this place, À la Mode, we used to go there when I was little, and I'm telling you: best. ice cream. ever. Hands down."

Evan smiled a bit and sat down next to him, legs crossed, and absently drew on the dirt with his finger as he seemed to think.

"We as in, with your family?"

"Yeah. In the summer we would go on trips to an apple orchard and stop at the ice cream shop on the way."

"That- that sounds like it would be really nice."

"You never did something like that with your parents?" Connor asked, giving the other a curious look.

Evan shook his head no, but didn't add anything else.

"Well, it's been a long time since we've done any 'family things' as well anyway," the brunette noted with a shrug. "Unless you count my mother's strange attempt at family therapy with -I kid you not- a shaman."

The other boy chuckled at that.

"How did that go?"

"Weird. He made us howl at one point, to 'release negative emotions'."

"Howl? As in-"

"Woof," Connor nodded in confirmation. They both laughed at the absurdity of it.

"I do the more conventional type of therapy," Evan said after a minute, and seemed shy about revealing it, but at the same time, happy to share something. "Though I don't know how 'conventional' it is to have to write letters to yourself."

"To yourself...? And do you reply to yourself afterward?"

"Uh, well no-"

"Wow, blown off by yourself. That's sad."

"I-" Evan had never thought of it that way, but Connor seemed to just be messing with him anyway.

"Does it work?"

"I'm not sure..." Evan took a moment to think. "I mean, I don't feel much different, but- it must be working, because I've made friends...sort of. The group, at detention... that's what we kind of are, isn't it?" He looked at Connor hopeful, as if searching for confirmation.

But Connor didn't know. He certainly was no expert on what 'friendship' was. Though to him, it seemed like more of an alliance of convenience, that would end as soon as they got what they wanted, or, more likely, failed at it. But for some reason, he didn't have the heart to tell Evan that, nor did he want to think much more about it, so instead he suddenly showed a smirk.

"Race you to that tree." He pointed to one far ahead, and without waiting for an answer jumped up, starting to run.

"What?" Evan was flabbergasted at the sudden turn of events.

"Follow me!" Connor yelled, already getting farther and farther.

And so Evan did, he got onto his feet and started running as fast as he could. He loved the outdoors, he'd been a boy scout when he was younger, and was now an apprentice park ranger, and as such, he was in pretty good shape to run, in that line of work you just had to be.

He easily caught up to Connor, who, on the other hand, was definitely not used to any sort of exercise, and quickly found that his lungs were hardly up to the task. But he kept running, enjoying the adrenaline coursing through his veins, the rush that being out of breath gave him. He fixed his eyes on the tree, solely focused on getting to it.

He realized Evan was staying just one step behind, essentially letting him win, and almost wanted to push him in annoyance at that, but decided to just be content with his 'victory' as soon as his hand touched the tree.

Then he leaned forward a bit resting his hands on his knees, fighting to catch his breath.

"Up for climbing it, one-armed and all?" He asked Evan.

"Uh, yes, I think so...can you?" he gave him a questioning look, at how evidently tired he was.

"Yes, Hansen, and I bet I won't even fall, unlike some other people I've heard of," he pointed out, a slight smirk on his lips, before he started climbing, grabbing onto one of the lower branches and hoisting himself up.

Evan looked at him as he started climbing, taking a moment to process all that was happening. He always fantasized about what not being alone would be like, to have someone to just hang out with, just shoot the breeze, to enjoy each other's company, and it felt crazy that it was becoming real. He certainly wouldn't have expected Connor Murphy to be someone he would get closer to, but he realized at that moment that he wouldn't have wanted anyone else, that all of Connor's seemingly disjointed parts felt like they fit wonderfully with his own, in a perfectly imperfect way.

"You coming, or did you chicken out?!" Connor shouted from high up in the tree, making him snap back to the moment.

Evan grinned and started climbing, careful to balance his weight without being able to use his broken arm. Thankfully it was a tree with big, sturdy branches that were pretty easy to grab onto and step on.

He kept getting higher and higher; and the sun shining on his face, the gentle breeze moving through his hair and caressing his skin, the smell of the leaves that had just begun turning yellow for Autumn, all built to a feeling of fulfillment that soared as he got to Connor, there, waiting for him. He stepped on the last branch, reaching his companion's height and standing right in front of him.

He wasn't sure what overcame him at that moment. He certainly hadn't thought about it before, at least not consciously, but now he stared at the other intently, and in a different light, while Connor looked out to the park below.

"Connor?" he called, and when the boy turned to him, Evan, overcome with emotion and with no previous warning, leaned in as if to kiss him. But he didn't get to reach him, a hand on his chest abruptly stopping him.

"What the hell are you doing?!" Connor's entire demeanor had changed in an instant, his guard up, tense, and looking angered and very surprised.

Evan snapped back to the present, realizing what he'd just tried to do, and embarrassment and anxiety immediately flooded him. Why did you do that, what's wrong with you?

"I- I'm, sorry I don't-"

"You're just trying to laugh at me, is that it?!" Connor said it like a realization, his eyes filled with more rage than he'd ever seen them, frightening him more. "You want me to fall for it so then you can go tell everyone and you can all make fun of me!"

Before Evan could mumble out an explanation he shoved him, hard, giving the blond a split-second flashback of the last time he'd fallen off a tree, before he quickly managed to grab onto the branch next to him and hold on.

There maybe was a flash of concern for an instant in Connor's eyes, but it was quickly gone when Evan grabbed on again, and soon Murphy was offhandedly climbing down the tree, not even bothering to reach the last few feet, simply jumping down.

"You're just like everyone else, stay the fuck away from me," he growled looking up, before storming off.

Everything had happened so fast. Evan was shaking hard as he hugged the branch of the tree, his sight unfocused, unaware of anything but his ragged breathing, his painfully racing heart, and the tears that wouldn't stop running down his cheeks.

Veronica.

The girl inhaled, furiously sucking on that straw as if she was a drowning man gasping for breath. Then she moved the cup away, giving it a skeptical look. Nothing had happened.

"I don't see what the big deal..." Suddenly, a rush of cold went to her head, a pang of sharp pain clouding her senses for a good half a minute. " AH SONUVABITCH-"

JD laughed, nodding knowingly. His genuine laugh was a rare, but pure sound. She couldn't help but laugh as well, the strange feeling starting to dissipate.

They were sitting side by side on the sidewalk, right in front of the convenience store. JD had convinced her of getting the slushies, and she'd finally agreed on a cherry one, mostly just to see what his fascination with brain freezes was all about. And now she had.

This was JD's eleventh high school. Every one before it in a different city, many times in a different state. And his only constant, his only haven against all the instability, was the corporate monotony of the 7-Eleven stores. No matter what happened, no matter where he was dragged to, he could always hang on to the certainty that there would be a familiar place to find solace in, firm ground to dig his feet unto amidst the chaos.

"How come you move around so much? Is your dad in the army or something?" She asked with a curious smile, now sipping her drink much more delicately.

"He owns a deconstruction company."

"De-construction?"

"The old man seems to enjoy tearing things down. Seen the commercial? 'I'm Big Bud Dean, if it's in the way, I'll make your day!'"

"Right! And then he pushes the plunger and the whole screen blows up!" She snort-laughed, and then looked back at him in realization. "That's your dad?"

"In all his toxic glory."

His expression remained casual, a shadow of a smile still on his lips, and yet his eyes revealed the slightest hint of anger. Veronica decided not to dig into that.

"What about your mom? She doesn't mind you eat all this crap?" she shook the drink.

"Not anymore. But when she was still alive things were about halfway normal," he shrugged.

Veronica internally cringed. Pro tip: reminding a cute guy of a dead parent is a first date no-no. But JD continued as if it was nothing.

"You, on the other hand...let me guess," his smile twisted into a smirk. "Upper middle class, two parents that love each other and do everything for their sweet daughter, two-story suburban house, a golden retriever, the whole American dream."

"...I don't have a dog," she frowned, a bit annoyed that was the only thing she could technically correct. "And things aren't so simple, just because my parents are together doesn't mean we're suddenly The Brady Bunch."

"And you have your whoooole life planned out," he continued as if he hadn't heard her. "4.0 GPA, big-name universities, marrying a lawyer, your two kids' names picked out, a boy and a girl of course, all probably neatly organized in a binder somewhere," he laughed.

She hit his arm. "I don't know how you can fit so many Slurpees when you're already so full of yourself."

He smiled, looking at her, but as he did, his expression slowly got more serious.

"But despite being submerged in normalcy, you are special. And the sky hurts when it comes down, I just think you'd better build some walls for when it does. I'd rather you didn't get too damaged...Like I did."

Veronica's annoyance faded among the raw honesty of the boy's words, her heart feeling full once again. But before she could say anything, a loud and long honk disrupted them, followed by a second one.

A green car had pulled up close to them, and Heather Duke stuck her head out the window of the driver's seat.

"VERONICA!" She honked again. "I'm already ticked off I've had to come get you because you couldn't do the simple thing of just straight up going to Heather's house, so don't be even more of a megabitch and get in!"

Veronica sighed.

"Nice to see you too, Heather."

She gave JD a longing look.

"Duty calls."

He looked at Heather, and then back at her, expressionless.

"So I see."

Veronica was about to get up to leave, but then, in a flash of rebellion, maybe because Duke was rushing her, maybe because she had to once again comply with the Heathers' plans, or maybe because she had just wanted it for so damn long, she instead grabbed JD's shirt and pulled him towards her, planting a kiss on his lips.

There was a moment of static surprise where she almost regretted everything, an apology starting to curl her tongue, but then he reacted, returning the kiss as his hand tangled in her hair, pulling her even closer.

His lips were soft, and cold and sweet from the beverage, she could soon taste the cherry on hers mixing with the blue raspberry of his. She couldn't help but hum at how pleasant the feeling was, and despite her heart fluttering wildly in her chest, she felt incredibly calm, and just wanted to get to know more and more-

Until some new honking pulled her away from that newfound oasis.

"I swear I will run you over! Stop making out with your boy toy for two seconds and let's go, I'm not gonna be late to Heather's because of you."

Veronica groaned, but moved away, knowing she was about to be ditched if she didn't go that instant, and that wasn't an option she could afford.

"I gotta motor..." Despite her dissatisfaction, when she looked up at JD, she saw the happiest look she'd ever seen on him, which made her smile as well.

"Bag the party. Stay here," he asked.

The girl sighed.

"I can't...but..." she got closer again, her lips hovering over his. "Let's continue this later," she whispered. In a teasing manner, she aimed for his lips but kissed his cheek instead and moved away, getting up. He awoke in her a side she didn't know she had, but that she was excited to explore.

JD narrowed his eyes with annoyance, but was smiling brightly as if they'd just announced a 50% discount on slushies.

"Definitely," he confirmed, lifting two fingers to vaguely wave, much like he'd done the first day of school.

Veronica smiled trying to keep the gushy excitement of their first kiss in check, and cooly waved before getting in the car, blissfully aware he was watching her leave even as they drove off.

Chapter Text

Evan.

It was Monday at lunchtime when Evan found himself in a corner of the cafeteria with the food he'd brought from home, with no idea where to sit or what to do.

He hadn't been able to stop thinking about Connor since that Saturday, the awful way it had ended. He'd overanalyzed every minute, every word, every action, desperately searching for the meaning of it all, but only getting more and more lost amidst the details.

And he couldn't get the thought of Connor pushing him away and running off out of his mind, playing on a tormenting loop in his head. Stupid, stupid, stupid, you ruined everything, like you always do.

And had he really thought things were different? That he had friends now? If that was true, why was he standing completely alone, completely ignored, in a corner by the dumpsters?

He saw Veronica, sitting with the Heathers; on the other side, Cady, with Regina and her friends; Michael with Jeremy, the two with headphones on sharing the screen of a phone watching something...and his heart skipped a beat when he noticed Connor in the distance. He was grabbing some snacks from the vending machine, and noticed him as well, but he quickly lowered his gaze, hiding behind his long hair, and left to join JD, the two leaving probably to hang by the parking lot.

And Evan...had no one, he realized in dismay. Nothing but the trash cans by his side. He started trembling a bit, and decided he had to leave, he just couldn't bear to be so blatantly mismatched for everyone to judge.

He clutched his uneaten sandwich tightly and quickly walked out the door, wanting to be anywhere but there. Unfortunately, he was in such a rush and so lost in his own thoughts he didn't see in time the two giant jocks he collided against, and he had to fight to keep his balance, his sandwich flying in the air.

"Yo!" It was Kurt Kelly. Shucks.

"Hey, watch it!" said Ram, backing him up.

"I-I'm so sorry," Evan quickly apologized, fiddling with the hems of his shirt, trying to locate his wrapped up food to just get out of there. He was about to do just that, but Kurt grabbed him from his neck collar.

"Hey, not so fast, twerp," he warned.

"We can't beat him up, look, he's like a cripple or something, and we're seniors, man," Ram reasoned.

"Well he has to learn some respect," Kurt countered, pushing the boy against the lockers.

Evan started sweating in utter fear, his eyes fixed to the floor, hoping he could just disappear, make it all disappear.

The footballers turned to each other, exchanging a knowing look, and nodded in unison.

"Pick that up," Kurt ordered with a power-hungry smirk, pointing to the sandwich.

Evan nodded and quickly scrambled to the ground to grab the bag, not wanting to give them any more reasons to attack him. Ram took the sandwich off his hand, twisting his wrist in the process until he cried out, and the two shoved him into the ground.

They laughed.

"We're taking this as payment for your unacceptable behavior!" they snickered, waving the sandwich in the air, before walking away, starting to fight amongst themselves over who got the first bite.

Evan was trembling. He wasn't sure he wanted to get back up at all, a part of him just wanted to stay there, forever. He had nothing to get up for.

Nonetheless, after a few minutes, he did. He pushed himself up, wincing at the pain of his broken arm, which he'd used instinctively to brace himself when he was pushed. His wrist on the other side had a light bruise forming as well.

With a sigh, he moved to the computer room by the library. He had to write that stupid letter to himself for his session that afternoon, and to be honest, needed to write, to express somehow all that he was feeling.

Thankfully no one else was there. He sat in front of one of the computers, opened a new document, and started typing away.

Dear Evan Hansen,

It turns out, the first day wasn't amazing after all. Nor was the next one, or the one after that. This isn't going to be an amazing month, or an amazing year, because...why would it be?

And all my hope is pinned on you. I keep hoping, you'll be fun, you'll be the great guy everyone likes and that people, at least someone, will care what he has to say, will want to be near you. But you will never be that.

And these feelings I have I don't really understand either. I don't even know much about platonic love, I don't know what friendship feels like in the first place, and when on top of that it's someone of my own gender, how am I supposed to know what it is? And either way, only more ammunition to be used against us if people knew.

I wish everything was different. I wish I was a part of something. I wish that anything I said, mattered, to anyone. I mean face it, would anyone even notice if I disappeared tomorrow?

Sincerely, your best and most dearest friend, me

He sighed, staring at the screen for a while, facing the truth of his words. The only certain thing about his confusing feelings is that no matter what they were, they were unrequited. Connor had made that quite clear. And he didn't blame him. Who would want to hang out around him? Evan would certainly jump at the chance of not having to be with himself if he could, so no wonder everyone else stayed away too.

Bitterly, he just set the document to print and closed it without saving, the last thing he wanted was to leave it there for someone to read.

Sadly, that's exactly what happened. He hadn't heard Rich come in, but he must have been near the printers, because when Evan finished turning off the computer and walked over there, he found him reading the letter.

"Dear Evan Hansen!" he said out loud, clearly extremely amused that he had something apparently private. "What's this?"

"Uh, uh," Evan panicked. "That's mine!" 

He tried taking it back, but Rich kept him at bay with one firm hand, while reading. His eyes widened after a moment, a shit-eating grin growing on his face. 

"Whoa, whoa, wait- someone of my own gender?"

He looked like he'd found gold. At least in terms of bullying ammo.

"It's addressed to you so who's this from? Who's your secret gay lover?" he inquired in a sneer.

"It's not like that, please, give it back," Evan hopelessly begged, still trying to reach for it, to no avail.

"And you were printing it out! You liked it so much that you felt the need to print it!" Rich cried out in laughter.

"That's not-! It's not-"

"Whose is it, huh? Tell me! Wait... it's that freak you keep exchanging little looks with, isn't it? That psycho Murphy guy?"

Evan's increased panic only confirmed his assumptions, making him burst into laughter.

"Oh my god, it is! My guess would have been he was porking the other school-shooter-looking loser but he likes them blond! That's hilarious!"

"That's not true! Please, just give me my letter!" His heart was beating so fast it rang in his ears.

Rich showed a vicious grin.

"Well, not until I share your feelings with Murphy himself, can't be rude and leave him hanging, Evan, we gotta tell him you're printing his letter!"

Rich pushed the other off of him and bolted towards the door, probably to find Connor. Evan was about to try to stop him, to run after him...but he realized he had started hyperventilating, about to have a panic attack. So instead, he went to hide in the bathroom, where he could have an uninterrupted mental breakdown over everything.

Connor.

Once they had finished feasting on all the sugar the vending machine had to offer, JD left him, claiming he had to 'remind Veronica she was a Veronica and not a Heather', which Connor just figured meant that he wanted to spend time with her.

All by himself now, he decided to light up to get his mind off things, the stress of his confusing feelings too overwhelming to deal with, and was just in the middle of rolling up a joint when a pair of sneakers and jeans with stars drawn on the cuffs entered his field of vision. He didn't bother looking up, knowing exactly who they belonged to.

"You're not going to stink up my car with weed smell," Zoey sharply warned him.

Connor finished rolling it, twisting the tip shut, and looked up at his younger sister, her figure blocking the sun. He gave her a mirthless smile, taking the joint to his lips.

"That's why I planned on smoking here. Your precious BMW will be fine. Did you really come up here just to tell me that?"

They never saw each other at school, their relationship was pretty bad and they would fight enough at home as it was. Well, that, and Connor was pretty sure she wanted to be socially associated with him as little as humanly possible.

She stood there for a few seconds, her expression softening as if she wanted to say something else, but quickly hardening again.

"That and that I have band practice last period, you can wait for me or just walk home. If you don't like it you shouldn't have crashed your own car against a tree." Not waiting for an answer, she walked away.

Connor sighed, and just resumed his task. About fifteen minutes later, he was in the halls heading for his next class, enjoying the lightheadedness and sensation of floating that being high gave him, as if coasting just above all his troubles. But then, Rich showed up.

"There you are, freak!"

Connor felt his anger immediately rising, though softened by the effects of weed. He glared at Rich. Most people were too afraid of Connor, too aware of his reputation as 'insane' to confront him directly to his face, but not Rich. To be fair, the guy could definitely fight, there was no doubt he worked out as consistently as if he had a machine in his brain telling him to.

"Fuck off," he spat at the shorter guy, shoving him with his shoulder and moving past him.

"What's the rush, on your way to meet Hansen for a good necking session in the stalls?" He taunted.

Connor stopped dead in his tracks, taken aback by the words. He turned back towards Rich, who had a wide grin.

"What?" Connor growled.

"Oh come on, I saw the little note you left for him, the poor fucker loved it so much he was printing it! Probably to jack off to it at night."

Connor blinked, deciding it was just a prank, he was messing with him, just to make him lash out to then laugh at him, like everyone always did. He shook his head, about to dismiss it, but then Rich pulled out an actual paper.

"Dear Evan Hansen," he read in an exaggeratedly sweet voice. "I know it's your writing, you queer freak! No wonder you paint your nails, it all makes sense now."

He practically shoved the paper on his face. Too flummoxed and confused to even be angry, his intoxicated brain trying its best to understand what was going on, Connor just read it, and his eyes widened in surprise.

And these feelings I have I don't really understand either. I don't even know much about platonic love, I don't know what friendship feels like in the first place, and when on top of that it's someone of my own gender, how am I supposed to know what it is? And either way, only more ammunition to be used against us if people knew.

Evan's therapy assignment, he realized. Evan had written this, but... about who? Would it be too self-centered to think he could possibly mean... him?

He suddenly felt like the biggest asshole in the world. Evan was not only clearly struggling, but also had very real -albeit confusing- feelings. Just like Connor himself. He wasn't playing with him, he wasn't trying to catch him in something to then ridicule him...he just genuinely cared. Maybe. His heart was breaking.

He'd almost forgotten about Rich, until the guy pulled the paper back from his hands.

"I'm keeping this," he claimed with a satisfied crooked smile.

Connor left his own thoughts and focused back on the boy in front of him, and suddenly, all his rage bubbled up to the surface. He didn't say a word, but instead immediately lunged at him, tackling him to the ground and punching him in the face. Rich was surprised at the abrupt nature of the attack, but he wasn't caught off guard again. Every push, every hit Connor wanted to land- it seemed like he could somehow predict it and dodge just in time, landing punches of his own.

High, disoriented, and blinded by his emotions, Connor clearly had no chance, but was too angry to back down, even when he was pretty much being beaten up. Finally, when he could already taste his own blood from his inner cheek and running from his nose, coach Ripper showed up and split them apart. Saying something along the lines of boys will be boys, he didn't give them any punishment, and just told them to go to class.

Rich gave him a final mischievous grin, accompanied by mocking kissing sounds and gestures, before pocketing the note in his jeans and leaving.

Even though his hand hurt, Connor punched one of the lockers in frustration, denting it a bit.

"Fuck me!" he mouthed, feeling the pain immediately shoot out through his hand. "Fuck everything."

Tears threatened to leave his eyes, but he forced them back. Instead, he hid in a nearby utility closet to avoid class, curled up into a sitting position, and pulled out his phone.

He hovered over Evan's contact for a while before finally writing:

I'm sorry. I was an asshole to you.

It didn't take long to get a reply. Well, technically, it did, because the three dots that meant Evan was typing appeared for forever, the guy probably writing and deleting indecisively as he chose what to say. That detail made Connor smile. What he didn't know at the time, was that Evan was curled up in a much similar position to his, only in one of the bathroom stalls, recovering from an awful breakdown.

I'm sorry too. Did you...see Rich?

So he knew he had his letter. Connor sighed.

Yup. He's a dipshit.

You really should swear less.

Shit, you're right.

Connor!

Connor chuckled. Then after a few seconds typed:

We should avoid all ass- sorry, BUTTholes and just
learn to sail and get lost in the sea.

We could also bike the Appalachian trails
and get lost there. But with a map.

I don't think you get the concept of lost.

They didn't talk about that Saturday or about the contents of the letter at all, but they did talk. A lot, actually. Both sitting down, protected from the world in their little hiding spots, they kept texting, chatting away about all the things they could do outside of school, about snacks, the great ice cream flavors À la Mode had, tedious homework and crazy teachers, some nature facts snuck in there by Evan, funny videos... feeling happy, content they had each other, it felt like they could go on for forever that way.

Chapter Text

Cady.

Weeks passed by. Time didn't care about flourishing love, the group's plans to save the school, their conflicts and hiccups. It just kept going, constant and relentless. And before they knew it, it was the first of October, and they had Jake's huge house party that night, the first of Fall, as if they had to start the month of Halloween right.

"IF I COULD CHANGE THE WORLD, I'D MAKE IT HALLOWEEN."

Karen's statement came so out of nowhere, and so loud, everyone at the Halloween store turned to look at her.

"Every single day," Karen continued, a dreamy smile on her face, not looking at anyone in particular, just speaking to nothingness. "Oh and also, have world peace. Maybe world peace should be first..."

Regina rolled her eyes with a scoff, and went back to looking for outfits, practically throwing to Gretchen's face what she didn't like, which so far was everything.

Karen cleared her throat, deciding to start over.

"Yes, if I could change the world I'd make us have world peace, and also Halloween, every single day."

"Didn't know you liked it so much," Cady noted, offering her a smile. "It's going to be the first Halloween for me."

"Of course I do! You can pretend to be someone else, like on the Internet, only in person. And with candy." As she spoke, Karen rifled through different outfits and accessories, grabbing a single thing of each.

The young store attendant had given up on trying to control all the teenagers that had walked into the store, and just watched helplessly from the cash register.

As she selected items, Karen got farther away from Regina, and Cady followed.

"It's like, when you are the hot one like me, you always have to work hard on being what people want to see, you know? But one day a year, you get to be someone else! But still hot." Karen sighed. "Maybe it's the closest I get to being me..."

Before that statement could be dwelled on any further, she continued. "Anyway! Hold my bag, please!"

Karen tossed her purse and items at Cady and approached the group of other teens there, who were pretty much on their tiptoes waiting for her approval.

"You can be whoever you want to be, and hot!!" she claimed going around, throwing princess tiaras on a puppy costume for one girl, a tutu for a ballerina costume being mixed with a pirate's eyepatch for someone else of neither gender. "Animal, mineral, even vegetation! Anything, while still sexy!"

She fixated on one particular freshman girl, and pulled up some items from Cady's hands. She then dragged the girl into the changing rooms to work her magic.

After several minutes, Karen came back out.

"Alright, you can come out now!" she called out to the freshman. "I give you... sexy corn!" she claimed excitedly, presenting the shy girl in the giant-sized corn costume.

Then she directed her attention back at the others, who were awaiting eagerly for her words, her acknowledgment.

"You can be whoever you wanna be and hot...pirate, ballet dancer, cat...you could be a sexy doctor, and cure some sexy cancer...! Wait...that's not right, is it?"

"Uhmm." Cady wasn't sure what to say. She was in awe at the way everyone there was looking at Karen, hoping for her approval, like maybe that could give them some social points on a scale that was invisible, but all too palpable.

"I can sexy cure some cancer!" Karen tried again, wholeheartedly committed to what she was saying.

"Mmm no..." Cady murmured.

"I can cure sex cancer...?"

"Sex cancer doesn't exist-" the girl supplied.

"I did it!" Karen claimed, clapping her hands enthusiastically. "Like I said: whoever you want to be, and sexy!"

Cady laughed it off, thinking that was all just Karen being Karen. Most likely they would all go change into their actual scary costumes before the party that night. She herself had the perfect one, and couldn't wait. Especially because Aaron himself had invited her!

Veronica.

Ghouls. Vampires. Werewolves. Famous killers. The one month in the year when monsters didn't hide, but were everywhere. Mostly in warped, scantily clad hot versions.

Heather Duke pulled up in Jake's driveway, and even from inside the car music could be heard blasting through the house's speakers. Or would it be more accurate to call it a mansion? Veronica wasn't sure where the line was between a house and a mansion, but it was definitely a big place, alright.

Heather Chandler, in the passenger seat, was touching up her lipstick on the mirror. She was dressed like an adult film version of Red Riding Hood.

"Does this shade go well with my eyeshadow?"

"Still looks as good as the last time you asked. Two minutes ago..." Veronica murmured from the backseat. She'd decided on an Alice in Wonderland costume, also sexy, of course. Even if the clothes were a little tight and uncomfortable, she did feel hot as hell.

Heather glared at her through the mirror.

"After what you pulled at the Remington party, you're on thin ice, Veronica. Being a prude and making us look lame in front of Remington guys, after I did you the favor of getting you in?" She slowly shook her head, almost menacingly. "You're lucky I was feeling nice enough then. But luck runs out."

Veronica quickly composed her expression and smiled apologetically.

"You're right. You look great, Heather. Boys will slip all over the floor on their own drool as you walk by."

Heather smiled, satisfied. Veronica was convinced she enjoyed the power, the feeling of having everyone under her thumb to crush as she pleased, so they'd be thankful when she decided to crush just a little less. But if Veronica and her group's plans went well, that all would be over soon. She couldn't wait.

They left the car and went in; a kid that seemed to be happy just to breathe the same air as the Heathers opened the door for them.

Inside, the LED lights of all colors flashing from reflectors were almost blinding, and people had wasted no time and were already drinking, smoking, chatting, eating snacks, and checking each other out. A sign also in LED lights read "RAD EXCUSE FOR MAD ABUSE" with an arrow pointing down to a table full of beer and liquors.

"Who wants to get naked in the pool?!" Ram called out from somewhere in the crowd, wearing his varsity jacket open over his naked torso.

"You should go, Veronica, it would be a step up for you," Heather Chandler said, while the other two Heathers giggled.

Veronica rolled her eyes, smoothing her dress.

"I told you, things with JD are going really well now, I'm not gonna screw that up."

"Not that he would ever find out, it's not like he's invited," Heather Duke whispered mischievously.

Rich was nearby, and walked up to them. He had the same pants he wore to school almost every day, which made one wonder if he ever washed them, with the addition of a Jason mask pulled up over his forehead, a skull t-shirt, and a baguette that passed as a machete.

"Hey what did you say about you and JD?" he asked Veronica. He seemed weirdly worried about it, though his eyes were distant at the same time.

Veronica frowned. Why on earth would Rich care? Before she could say anything though, a loud crowd of guys approached them.

"Hey! Drink toll!"

"Drink! Drink! Drink! Drink!" the group chorused. Veronica and the Heathers each did a shot, though Rich looked more reluctant and raised his palms up.

"Dudes I want to alright, so fucking bad but I can't-"

"Shotgun!" Kurt exclaimed, cutting open a can of beer by the side and shoving it in Rich's face.

Before Rich knew it, he was taking it and drinking every drop, and everyone cheered.

"That's better! Let's get this party really started!" Jake hollered, before there was a small tap on his shoulder. Turning around, he saw Christine, who had just arrived. She smiled at him.

"Sorry I'm late."

"I didn't even realize!" Jake said it as if it was well-intended, though Christine flinched a bit.

"Oh...okay." It was then that she noticed his costume, he had a purple jacket and...an afro? "I thought we were going as prince and princess."

"Right, I'm Prince!" He mimicked playing an invisible guitar. "And what are you supposed to be?"

"I'm an authentic Reinassance...ah, never mind..." she rubbed her arm, looking out of place.

"Ooooh I just got it," Jake laughed. "Want a drink?"

"Sure."

"Great, here!" he handed her his and joined his friends again for more, while Christine was left to stand alone.

Not too far, Veronica and the Heathers had witnessed the scene.

"What a loser, it's pretty sad," McNamara murmured, shaking her head.

"I don't know why she was even invited," Duke added.

"Hey maybe we should go easy on her, you guys don't need to be so..." Veronica trailed off when Heather Chandler turned to give her a death glare. How could a skinny teenage girl be so terrifying? Clearly, not being an echo chamber of spiteful empty thoughts was a surefire way to invoke her wrath.

"What was that?" Heather C. barked.

"Uh..."

Veronica looked around, trying to think of something to say to please the all-mighty, and then she saw behind her a monster right out of a horror movie coming through the door. Wait, no, it was...Cady? Oh god, those fake teeth protruding from her mouth were awful, and that pale makeup and bloody dress weren't doing her any favors. What had she been thinking, coming to the party dressed like that?

Cady started walking, probably to go find the Plastics, and Veronica turned to look back at Heather C.

She really didn't want to do this, but she had to. She was on thin ice and needed to avoid sinking right now. So she forced a smile on her face, and leaned in closer to the Heathers to murmur.

"Did you guys see what Cady's wearing?"

The three pairs of eyes were immediately looking beyond Veronica to find Cady, effectively distracted by the gossip.

"Oh this is perfect." Chandler grinned. "Regina's failed experiment. That's what she gets for trying to copy me on taking in a protégé, that idiot couldn't have an original thought if it was drilled into her skull."

"She's gonna give me nightmares," McNamara said.

"Did she just have her period all over her dress?" Veronica added, and she felt good for a moment, when the Heathers laughed at her comment, but it quickly shattered when she noticed her friends looking right behind her with self-satisfied smiles. Turning around, Veronica found what she feared: Cady right behind her, probably having approached her to say hi, and now her big doe eyes were shocked and sad. Dammit.

"Cady, I didn't-"

But the girl just turned around and ran before Veronica could finish her sentence, taking off the fake teeth and tossing them on the ground.

Chapter Text

Cady.

It hurt. It wasn't the kind of pain she was used to. In Kenya, she'd accidentally injured herself plenty of times, anywhere from scraping her elbows to breaking her leg falling off an elephant. No matter what it was, the procedure was always the same, clean the wounds to avoid infection, take painkillers, follow a specific treatment that would guarantee you're healed within a certain, specific window of time.

But what about the pain in her heart? What were you supposed to do about that, where was the rule book to make it better? She didn't know. All she really knew was that the sadness of betrayal was quickly leaving room for anger.

She walked away, needing some distance from everything, and soon realized Veronica was following her.

"Cady! Hold up! God I really can't run in these stupid heels-"

She didn't stop. She reached the end of the hallway and went through the first door on her way, ending up in the laundry room. There were no other exits, so it became impossible to avoid Veronica as the other girl went in as well, closing the door behind her.

"Look, it's not what it looked like, I needed to say those things but didn't mean them..."

Cady had her back to her, and felt small tears form around her eyes.

"It was exactly what it looked like." The blonde turned around to finally face Veronica, scowling at her. "I know I'm weird, a foreign loser, but I'm trying. But you...you talk like you're different than them, and you know what, you're right: because you're worse. At least they know what they are. You convince yourself and everyone else that you're better, good, but you're not."

Veronica seemed at a loss for words after hearing that, her eyes widened with surprise and hurt, but there was a lot Cady felt bubbling up to the surface, and she had more to tell her.

"I've done similar things I admit, but I would have never done that to you! I thought you were my friend, but all you've done is use me. Admit it! Ever since we met you have just treated me like a tool to go after the Plastics. And at least they're nice, they get me, they are true friends."

"Cady...you're right, I know I've been a bad friend, but you can't trust them."

"I can't trust you." She just wanted to cry, but she swallowed the lump in her throat and gave Veronica a hateful look. "I'm done with this, our little group, the 'mission', getting the book, and most of all I'm done with you."

She went past the other girl to leave the room, and Veronica tried to lightly grab her arm, but she ripped it away.

"Leave me alone!" she snapped, and Veronica stepped back.

With that, Cady left the laundry room, practically running to find Regina, Gretchen, and Karen, she needed their comfort, their friendship, the feeling of belonging.

And that's exactly what she found...or so she thought.

She saw Regina talking to Aaron, putting a good word for her. They both turned to look at her for a moment, and she smiled and waved at them. She knew Regina would come through for her.

But then, before she knew it, they were inching closer to each other, and Regina grasped Aaron's collar and kissed his lips. Aaron didn't pull away, he kissed back, and Cady felt like what was left of her world was shattering right in front of her.

But Regina knew she liked Aaron! That's not what friends did. Despite how fiercely she'd defended them in front of Veronica...the plastics weren't her friends either, she realized. No one was.

She pretended she couldn't feel the makeup running down her face along with her tears, and pushed her way past the crowd to leave. It was cold outside and she'd have to walk, but she didn't care, she didn't stop, feeling determination grow within her.

She'd show them all what she could do. She was done playing nice; if they wanted mean, they'd see mean.

Veronica.

Writing in her diary was a good outlet for her feelings of angst and frustration. But in the middle of a party, what also seemed like a great outlet came in tiny shot glasses, kegs, and even in jello.

"Ok ok ok..." She was starting to slur her words already. "So it's salt, then lime, and then shot?"

McNamara shook her head.

"You're doing it wrong."

"Ah, same difference!" Veronica took the shot anyway, hoping it would make her feel better. That it would erase the guilt about Cady, and about what she'd become. But it didn't. Maybe she should just give up. Or... "Hey is that weed? I want a hit!"

She grabbed the joint from a girl nearby and took a drag, inhaling deeply, which mostly just sent her into a coughing fit. And that didn't really help with how dizzy she was feeling, was the room supposed to be spinning? She burped, and before she knew it, Heather C. had appeared by her side and was grabbing her arm painfully tight.

"Veronica what's your damage?! You need to hold your booze. Don't make us look bad again."

"I really don't feel good..." There were always three Heathers, but now as she looked at the girl, she was convinced she was seeing three Heather Chandlers. This truly was hell. Cady was right, she'd turned into something awful, and it needed to end. "I'm done, okay? I'm resigning, going back to civilian life."

Heather narrowed her eyes.

"You stupid fuck. You were nothing before you met me." She kept shaking her to emphasize every word; the floor felt unsteady, and Veronica's stomach was complaining hard.

"Hea-" Veronica wanted to plead she would stop moving her for a second, feeling really upset, but instead of words, vomit suddenly came out. She got sick all over Heather's skirt and shoes. Uh oh.

Heather truly snarled now, and everyone around had started paying attention.

"I raised you up from nothing! And what's my thanks? I get paid in puke!"

Veronica wiped her mouth and slowly straightened up to face Chandler, her expression hardening and turning defiant as she met the queen's eyes.

"Lick it up, baby. Lick. It. Up."

Heather scoffed, halfway between a laugh of disbelief and pure hatred. She grabbed Veronica by her hair, getting really close to her face.

"You don't get to be a nobody. Monday morning, you're history. I'll ruin you. Transfer to Washington, transfer to Jefferson, not even the losers are gonna touch you now."

Veronica's confidence wavered, and even more so as Heather let go of her and continued.

"Get Kurt and Ram," she barked at Heather Duke, without taking her eyes off Veronica.

The boys didn't take long to show up.

"I think Veronica isn't feeling too well. She needs a time-out. Why don't we take her upstairs, lock her up until she cools down?" Her tone was sweet but venomous. Noticing the boys' hesitation, she turned to them. "If you do this for me, you can go on a double date with them," she pointed to the other two Heathers.

"Right on!" Kurt smiled, and Ram lifted Veronica up over his shoulder as if she was as light as a pillow. "Come along!"

"Hey!" Veronica punched the linebacker's back as hard as she could, but it didn't seem to have any effect on him, as they started going up the stairs. "Let go of me! You're such a brute!"

Several people followed, laughing, and of course, Heather was the first among them. She looked around pleadingly for help, but no one did anything, they all just watched as if it was free entertainment.

They dropped her on the bed of the master bedroom and left, closing the door behind them. By the time Veronica managed to stumble to the door and try to open it, it was already locked. She banged on it.

"What the hell, Heather! Let me out!"

"My advice, enjoy your peace while you have it. Monday at school, everyone's gonna make you their target. You'll be dead."

"Heather!"

All she heard was an evil giggle, and the final few footsteps walking away, going back to the party like everyone else, as if she didn't exist. And that's when Veronica understood just how terrifyingly real Heather's words were. 

Chapter Text

Veronica.

She was done. That was it, the end of Veronica Sawyer. Her head was swirling with alcohol and worry, spiraling out of control. It had been foolish to think they could defeat the demon queen, she would always win, she would always come out on top, because the world was made for her. And you only had two options: kneel down to her power, or die. Thinking she'd been straying away from it all and finding a new way, she'd actually walked the path leading to the latter.

And she was already a dead girl walking. But in that moment of despair, all she could think about was JD. How safe she felt in his presence, how protected, how far away from all the bullshit of society, like none of it mattered. She needed that right now. And before she was even sure what she was doing, she found herself stumbling with her phone and dialing his number. She only hoped he wasn't sleeping.

It rang once before he picked up, clearly already awake.

"Veronica?" His voice sounded sweet, but uncertain.

Her worries dissipated almost instantly, replaced by her need for him.

"Jayyyy Deeee," she belted out in a singsong voice. "Why aren't you here? I want youu."

"What?" Confusion had turned into concern. "You sound wasted...how much did you drink?"

"Yes," she giggled.

"I- Where are you?"

"In Hell," her eyes suddenly welled up with tears, her emotions unfiltered and all over the place. "I'm done, JD, this is it. I got about 30 hours till my execution. And then say goodbye, because Veronica will be no more..."

"Wh- alright hang on. I'm coming to get you." She heard some movement and shuffling of clothes, like he was getting dressed. "Are you still at that Halloween party thing?"

"Yes. I'm- I'm locked up in the main bedroom, actually."

There was silence for a second. When he spoke again, there was a cold undertone to his voice.

"I'll be there soon."

About fifteen minutes passed of Veronica being alone with her thoughts, the loud sounds of the party in the background making it impossible to forget her current predicament, even as they began to die down because people were starting to leave. Had they forgotten about her trapped in there so easily? She felt like crying again, but instead, to keep herself busy, she saw some aromatic candles and decided to light them to set the mood, with some matches right next to them. She was thinking what else she could do, when she heard a knock...but not coming from the door.

Startled, she turned to the window. And there he was, her knight in dark armor, with his devilishly charming smile, coming to her rescue.

She grinned and went over to open the window. He was propped up on a tree branch, barely holding on, but still acting like it was the most casual thing in the world.

"Dreadful etiquette, I know. But you said the door was locked."

"Get in here," she laughed, pulling from his coat to help him in.

Once he was standing in front of her, he frowned, looking into her eyes, probably noticing her crying. He ran a hand through her cheek, his thumb delicately wiping her tears.

"What happened?"

"Doesn't matter anymore," Veronica said at the same time she was deciding it, and got on her tiptoes to kiss him. Hard, with a hint of desperation, and a lot of built-up emotion. That's what she needed, that was all she needed; it wouldn't be the Heathers' night, it would be all hers, she was taking control of the one thing she had left for now, her life. And he felt so good, even better than she remembered. After a second of surprise, JD kissed her back eagerly, sharing her feelings, but pulling away much too soon.

"Let's get you out of here."

Veronica showed a bright, playful smile, and shook her head.

"Not yet." Her arms wrapped around his neck and pulled him close again, burying her fingers in his soft hair, leaning into his lips until they were only an inch apart, sharing a breath. "First, I decided I'm gonna ride you till I break you," she whispered.

JD's eyes were so easy to read, beyond his quizzical look. There was so much in them, surprise, temptation, love, desire, concern, all mixing together in a unique spark. But that last one seemed to take over.

"Veronica, you're really dru-"

He couldn't finish the sentence before being pushed onto the bed, falling on his back. Not having time to even process what was going on, she was already climbing on and straddling him.

He started to protest once more, but she put a finger on his lips.

"Shhhhhhh." Her finger slowly trailed down. "Sober me wanted this. Drunk me wants this. Tomorrow's me will still want this. Will want you. You're my last meal on death row."

His eyes started to show a tender adoration combined with excitement.

"And it's 'cause you're beautiful, you know?" She reached a hand out to his face, and he instinctively flinched first, as if he was expecting to be hit, before letting her touch him. She cupped his cheek affectionately and looked into his eyes. "You act like you're all numb inside, but I don't buy it. The world sucks and is unfair, yes, but tonight let's keep it beyond that locked door. In here," she patted his chest with her other hand, right over his heart. "it's beautiful. So let's make this night beautiful, okay?"

JD beamed.

"That works for me."

He sat up to meet her lips with eagerness, a kiss that very quickly turned passionate, their tongues tentatively exploring each other, discovering each other. He tore her blazer and slid it off her shoulders without breaking the kiss, and then fumbled with her bra under her dress, his cold hands trailing her skin like they couldn't get enough, sending a pleasant shiver down her spine.

"I didn't bring-" he started saying in a breath.

She roughly pushed him onto his back again.

"I'm on the pill," she assured him with an impish smile. "Now shut your mouth and lose the clothes. I want you to make this whole town disappear."

She could tell he really liked this, bowing down to her will, both from his expression that he couldn't believe his luck, and the excitement she could feel in his body directly beneath hers.

He hadn't finished taking off his jacket though when there was some sudden, aggressive banging on the door. After a few seconds the person seemed to realize it was locked from the outside and the key was right there, because they tried it and opened it.

Both teens jumped off the bed and stood next to it, JD quickly getting in front of Veronica.

Rich came in, acting really strange, twitching almost as if he was tweaking on meth. His eyes were unfocused, and one of his hands was hitting his own head while the other swung a bottle of vodka around, spilling its content all over the floor.

"Stop, it needs to stop!"

"What the hell are you on about?!" Veronica questioned, covering herself as best she could.

"It said, that you two, together was- I don't know! Just your names! I don't know what- but danger...AND BECAUSE I DRANK IT'S NOT MAKING ANY SENSE NOW! I DON'T SPEAK JAPANESE!"

He violently threw the bottle at a wall, unfortunately, right where the candles were. A flame burst and quickly caught onto the curtains, spreading wildly.

"Shit!" JD moved over to try to put out the fire, but it was then that Rich set his sight on Veronica, his eyes maddened and filled with tears.

"I have to stop it, I have to, I don't have a choice!" he screamed, running at her at full speed, with clearly violent intent.

Chapter Text

JD.

He was reaching for a blanket to try to smother the growing fire when out of the corner of his eye he noticed Rich suddenly lunging at Veronica. The girl yelped in surprise and pain as she was tackled to the ground, a sound that very quickly turned into choking and gasping for air, when Rich started strangling her.

"I have to save everyone!" he screamed as his hands gripped her throat like a python crushing its prey. "And get it out of my head!"

JD completely forgot about the fire. The one thing that mattered, the only thing he loved, was in danger.

He ran towards Rich and with the full force of his impulse and rage kicked him in the ribs, something definitely cracking as the boy was flung against the wall.

"Are you okay?" JD turned to Veronica, his eyes widened with worry. He helped her up and she vaguely nodded, coughing, and gripping the windowsill of the still-open window for balance.

But Rich wasn't done.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I have to!" he cried out, getting up and preparing to attack again. "The computer predicted the future man, and her away from you is the only way for no one to die!"

He was a threat. To Veronica, to them. Even to all the people he bullied. Despite the chaos around them, JD could see it so clearly at that moment. Life was war, and threats had to be eliminated. For her. He would do anything for her.

So once he was charging at him again, JD shoved back, hard, directly against the open window, and didn't stop pushing until the much shorter boy could not hold his balance anymore, his upper body inevitably falling and his feet quickly losing the ground, flailing in the air and inadvertently hitting JD right in the guts as they did.

Rich screamed in fear as he fell through the window, managing to hold onto the windowsill with one hand. He desperately climbed, but slid off again, this time grabbing the only thing near: Veronica's wrist.

JD was doubled over in pain and without air, unable to pay attention.

Rich locked his frantic eyes with Veronica.

"Help me!"

But she didn't. For reasons she would spend the following months devouring her insides in search of, she stood still, in utter shock, not pulling him up, not grabbing back as the boy's fingers started slipping.

And a second later, he lost his grip and fell, the branches and his own writhing shifting his position until he was dropping head first.

The crack of bone, the weight of a whole body falling such a height, was a sound they'd never forget.

"Oh my god!" Veronica finally reacted out of her trance, leaning over the window to look. The body looked like a ragdoll dropped in an unnatural position, and wasn't moving.

"Holy shit," JD breathed, peeking beside her.

"We have to do something!" Without delay, Veronica ran out of the room and downstairs.

"Veronica wait!" JD ran after her, forgetting all about the fire in the commotion, which kept spreading, now reaching the walls, and combusting with the vodka that had spilled on the ground.

Downstairs, no one saw them. There were a few people left, most passed out drunk or making out or too high off their minds to notice anything around them.

And outside in the backyard, Rich waited. Except it wasn't really Rich anymore, JD thought, it was just flesh now. It was rather fascinating, in a way. If he'd fallen another way, if he'd actually jumped, maybe he would only have broken his legs, and that would still be Rich. But a touch of bad luck, a crack of your neck...and poof. Rich Goranski was no more.

Veronica seemed a lot more rattled than his quiet existentialism though, and started crying, pulling at her hair anxiously.

"Call 911!" she said, kneeling next to the very dead body.

"Uhm, think it's a little late for that."

"Oh my god," Veronica gasped, things barely starting to hit her. "We killed him." She fell backward, sitting on the ground, her eyes a million miles away. "They're gonna have to send my SAT scores to San Quentin instead of Stanford."

"It was self-defense," JD said flatly.

"A scuffle with no weapons that ends in murder? Not even if the judge was Gandhi we'd end without a conviction."

"Then maybe he took the Fall party too literally," he said, trying not to smirk at his own comment for a second.

"What?"

"I mean...us, letting him fly out a window? Probably a crime. But if he'd jumped on his own...well, everyone knows he was unstable..."

By the look in her eyes, she was starting to catch on to his meaning. She was the smartest person he knew, after all, he had to admit that even more than him.

But Veronica shook her head.

"Killing himself at someone else's house, in the middle of a party? That's too random. They have no reason to think it would be self-induced."

"Well, work with me here! Maybe he-"

He suddenly went silent, noticing something. Something white poking out of Rich's pocket. He crouched next to Veronica and the body, and pulled the sleeve of his trench coat down until it was covering his hand, to grab the piece of crumbled paper without leaving his prints on it. He unrolled it and read, emphasizing some parts:

"Dear Evan Hansen... this isn't going to be an amazing year because, why would it be? And all my hope is pinned on you...I keep hoping...you'll be the great guy everyone likes...but you will never be that. And these feelings I have I don't really understand either...when it's someone of my own gender, how am I supposed to know what it is? And either way, only more ammunition to be used against us if people knew...I wish everything was different...I wish that anything I said mattered, to anyone. I mean, face it, would anyone even notice if I disappeared tomorrow?"

He tapped the note.

"This is perfect. It's like right out of a Jay Asher novel. Tormented by a homophobic, careless society, Rich says his goodbye to his secret love and leaves the world in the most crowded place possible, a big 'fuck you I was right, and no one cares enough to even notice' statement to the system he was shoved into."

"Jay Asher? You read Thirteen Reasons Why?" she asked, and then started giggling at the idea of him liking teen drama fiction, which turned into a bit of a neurotic laughter.

JD stared at her blankly.

Veronica kept laughing, until her eyes fell back on the body, the wide soulless eyes and blood pooling below, and screamed, covering her face, on the verge of a mental breakdown.

"Veronica, focus! You could go to jail!" he snapped. At least one of them had to keep their cool now, if they were to get out of this. He needed to be strong for her, so they wouldn't sink.

"Okay, okay, but..." she wiped her tears. "Could his signature make it more believable?"

"Good idea." JD rummaged through his pockets, and thankfully found a pencil, which he handed to her along with the note. He had no idea why Rich had a note for Evan in the first place, but he wouldn't look the gifted origami horse in the mouth.

" I wish I'd had the courage to tell you all this while I was alive. R.G. "

She did the signature and handwriting exactly the way she remembered he did it, they'd been reluctant English partners once, she never thought that could have come in handy.

"That's good." JD took the note and slid it back into Rich's pocket.

Then, a blast, and some screaming from inside the house called their attention.

Shit, the fire.

Smoke was pouring out every door and window, the bright flames enveloping the building. There was shouting from inside -Jake- waking people up and telling them to run.

"Let's get the hell out of here."

Veronica didn't refuse. He helped her up, and soon they both sped off in JD's motorcycle, leaving the screams, wailing of distant sirens, and the large column of smoke behind.

Chapter Text

Evan.

It was an eerie climate as he walked into school that day. Everything was so... silent. People throughout the halls talked in sober whispers. And even though he always felt like everyone was staring at him as he walked by, now he could have sworn they actually were, which made him really self-conscious, a knot twisting his stomach, his mind frantically going over the million reasons he could be drawing the bad kind of attention to himself. Was his shirt on backward, were his pants too low, did he have bed hair, did he smell? Maybe-

"Evan Hansen, please go to the principal's office" the intercoms called through the speakers.

He froze, in complete surprise. What did he do wrong?

Walking quickly, and yet at the same time hesitantly, he headed to the office. No one was in the waiting area, not even the administration lady, so he just walked right through; and inside the room, he stood awkwardly, confused.

A man was in there, but not the principal. He looked emaciated: dirty clothes, greasy hair, and terrible bags under his puffy eyes. He must have been in his early fifties. And he seemed completely exhausted. It took Evan a second to notice another guy next to him- much younger, but looking just as tired, wearing a gas jockey's uniform.

"Good morning," Evan mumbled politely. "Is Principal Gowan...?"

The man looked up and stared at him. Evan shifted, feeling even more uncomfortable.

"I'm sorry, they said on the loudspeaker for me to come to the principal's office..."

"Oh, yes." Some recognition reached the man's eyes. "He uh, stepped out. We wanted to speak with you in private."

"Oh." The kid didn't know what else to say. He had no idea what was going on.

"Sit down," he told him in a stern, almost scary tone he didn't dare disagree with, so he did, in the chair next to the door.

"You probably don't know but, I'm Rich's dad, John," the man introduced himself. "And this is Mick, my...other son."

The younger guy wordlessly waved, not even looking at him, his eyes were lost near the ground.

So Rich's family...Evan scratched his hair nervously and racked his brain trying to think why they would want to talk to him.

"I-I, uhm, nice to meet you. But...I don't understand."

"Rich would have wanted you to have this." The man shoved a piece of paper in Evan's hands.

Utterly confused, he took it, unfolded it...and was met with his own words. The letter he'd written to himself. He didn't even read to the end, his blood ran cold and he quickly folded it back.

"I just, had no idea..." the man said dejectedly. "About how he felt. And what he was. I found porn of his with chicks on it for god's sake!"

Evan's eyes widened.

"And to think his last words were, well, to you..." John buried his head in his hands. The brother swallowed a lump in his throat.

"I'm sorry, last words...?"

The man looked up at him.

"You don't know," he stated, eyeing him carefully. Evan just shook his head.

"Rich...Rich took his own life. On Friday."

His heart started beating so hard that Evan would have been afraid it would jump out of his chest, if it weren't for the fact that his mind was reeling, trying to wrap around such a shocking thing. But it all started to make sense now, at least a bit, the quiet in the halls... he didn't have social media and didn't talk to anyone, so as it often happened with rumors, he was the last to find out. But...the fact everyone thought that letter was...

"He, he didn't-" Evan was violently shaking his head. "Rich didn't write it."

"What?"

"I'm sorry, but that's...this isn't...Rich didn't write this."

"What do you mean?"

"Dad, he's in shock," Mick interjected for the first time. "Leave him be."

"No, I just, he didn't..."

"I just want to know..." the father insisted. "Did he say anything to you? Did he show any signs of- did you see anything...?"

Evan was hyperventilating, quickly recognizing all the signals of a quickly escalating panic attack.

"C-can I please just go now?"

"I just want to understand!"

"Dad..."

"Shut up, Mick. I just...you were clearly the person he cared about the most. The only one he addressed before killing himself..."

Evan's whole body was shaking, and he handed the letter back to them, desperate to be rid of it, as if that could make it all go away. They refused to take it. In despair, he stuffed it in his pocket and got up.

"I-I-I have to go, I'm sorry."

"It's all we have left of him, but he wanted you to have it, just you, nothing about us..." John muttered with a mix of anger and sadness he seemed to be trying really hard to contain.

"I'm sorry..." Evan ran away, literally ran out of the room.

He started moving, unaware of his own steps or his surroundings as if the whole world was falling down on him, feeling like he was about to die. He just wanted to make it to the bathroom, to hide...but he didn't make it that far. He sat on the ground in the middle of the empty hall -everyone had gone to class already-, crawled backward so his back was against the wall and hugged himself, trying to breathe.

"Hansen?"

It was Connor, but he barely registered it, out of air at how fast and shallow his breathing was, his hands trembling as he anxiously ran them through his hair and arms, so energetically he inadvertently clawed at his good arm.

"Shit," he heard Connor mouth, sounding like it was somewhere really far away.

The boy kneeled next to him, and, not really having any idea what to do, awkwardly put a hand on his shoulder.

"Hey, hey, breathe, man. Are you okay? What happened? Just- breathe. Deep breaths."

Evan tried as hard as he could to calm down, if anything, because he didn't want to be seen as he freaked out. He pulled away from Connor's hand however, not wanting to be touched right now as it only overwhelmed him more.

"I-I-I-" he tried explaining it, but couldn't.

"Hey, hey," Connor suddenly said after a brief pause. He sat down in front of him. "What's your favorite tree?"

Evan swallowed, his heart pounding.

"African baobab," he replied automatically.

"Well, why? What's it like? Describe it to me."

Evan took a second, blinking.

"W-well it has these, these, well it's known as the tree of life." He took a couple of quickened breaths. "B-because it has a trunk that c-can store, like, a lot of water. Like, 30 feet wide and 60 feet tall of storage. And, so, it lives in this very-this very harsh region and everything's stacked against it, but it's still so strong, and, can endure so much and grow so tall and help everyone...and they're so big, they'd be impossible to miss. If you were in Africa."

By the end of the last sentence, he realized he'd calmed down enough to talk regularly, and his breathing was starting to normalize.

"I'll keep that in mind next time I, you know, decide to swing by Africa," Connor said, moving to sit next to him.

Evan messed with the hems of his shirt.

"Yeah...I- why did you ask me that?"

"'Grounding techniques'," Connor said in a sardonic tone, doing air quotes. "Years of my mom putting me through therapy, rehab, yoga...you end up learning a few things." He shrugged, dismissing it.

"Well...thanks."

"What got you so upset?" he asked, wanting to change the subject.

A feeling of dread went through Evan again as he remembered his conversation with Rich's dad and what had happened. He inhaled and exhaled slowly.

"Did-did you hear about what happened to Rich?"

Connor solemnly nodded.

"When I got here some asshole joked that they were surprised I wasn't the one to kill him," he muttered bitterly. "As if I would ever-" he sighed, clearly frustrated.

"I'm sorry..."

"Whatever. I heard they called your name through the speaker, that's why I came by. What was that about?"

Surprised he cared enough to see him about it, he put it aside for now, and took out the folded note, fiddling with it.

"They, uh- they found...a letter on him. My letter."

Connor's eyes widened.

"Oh, shit."

"No need to swear, but yeah. They think...they think he wrote it to me. Like, like a suicide note." He started shaking a bit once more, but Connor put a reassuring hand on his forearm, and this time, he felt unexpectedly comforted by it, albeit a bit flustered at the physical contact, hyper-aware of Connor's warm fingers over his skin.

"That's intense-" Connor was baffled.

"I tried telling them he didn't but," Evan shook his head and swallowed, "I don't think they understood. And the way he looked at me, he was just so...I- I don't know. I need to leave."

He shoved the note in Connor's lap.

"Please take it, I-I can't have it," he said, getting up. He wanted nothing to do with it.

"What am I supposed to- hey where are you going?"

"Home," Evan's voice was shaking a bit. "Or, or, to the forest or something. I don't know. I just...need to go, and, and be alone. I'll see you later."

"Okay..."

He took off, a lone hunched-over figure in the halls, leaving a worried Connor behind.

Connor.

With a sigh, Connor looked down at the folded letter Evan had given him. It sent a shiver down his spine to think Rich was holding it when he died. When he did what Connor himself had t-

He shook those thoughts away, and opened the note. There were the words he remembered, he could sort of see how they could look like someone's final goodbye. And there was the paragraph, the paragraph that had given him sleepless nights, wondering if it was meant for him, and he still wasn't completely sure.

Reaching the end, he suddenly frowned, his breath catching in his throat.

I wish I'd had the courage to tell you all this while I was alive. R.G.

He read that last sentence, scribbled in pencil with Rich's signature, over and over again as if he couldn't believe it was there. Because it made no sense. None whatsoever.

Rich thought Connor had written that letter to Evan, he'd mocked him about it. Why would Rich pretend he'd written it himself for Evan, especially as his final words before taking his life? Why?

Unless...

Connor blinked a few times, suddenly realizing he wasn't sitting in the empty hall anymore. He was still sitting, but outside, on his usual hangout spot behind the school, by the maintenance shed. His heart thumped in his chest, becoming aware of his surroundings.

It was lunchtime, he realized. He'd had another of his blackouts. Blank periods of time in his mind where he had no idea what had happened, triggered, usually, by stress. He hated those, they made him feel so lost and disoriented, and scared for whatever had happened that he just couldn't remember, and had to put together like a puzzle with missing pieces.

He heard the vigorous sucking of a straw next to him. Then a few seconds later a groan of pain, followed by a content sigh. He turned to look at JD sitting beside him, giving himself brain freezes with his blue raspberry slushie, escaping the world and his own mind at the same time.

He couldn't really understand why the guy didn't just, well, get high like most people. Then again, Connor knew he was fucking up his own lungs, so maybe he was the one that should give a try to the Slurpee religion.

Connor remembered the letter, and searched around his clothes, finding it tucked inside the pocket of his dark grey hoodie. Dismissing the blackout, as it was easier than accepting he was having issues once more, the thoughts about that last sentence flooded his mind again, and he decided to confide in his only friend.

"Something's up," he said quietly, unsure how to start such an insane conversation.

"Besides my blood sugar levels, probably? I blame a nation built on corporate consumerism," JD said with a half smile, looking back at him. But he must have noticed Connor's somber expression, because his smile faded and he got more serious. "What?"

Connor hesitated, trying to find the words.

"I don't think Rich killed himself," he finally said.

Only silence answered him. He turned to look at JD, and his expression was unreadable.

"And before you call me paranoid or crazy like everyone else does- look." He opened up the note and showed it to JD, who suddenly looked visibly tense. "They found it on Rich, after, you know...but Evan wrote this. I know, because I saw this note, Rich showed it to me, he thought I wrote it for Evan and I guess he wanted to keep it for blackmail or something...and it didn't have that last part before. It's signed by Rich, but, he didn't write it. Why would he pretend Evan's letter is his own suicide note?"

"What are you saying?" JD asked slowly, no recognizable emotion in his tone.

"I think...I know what this sounds like, but I think he was killed. And that someone covered it up by making it look like suicide."

He had always liked conspiracy theories, staying up until four am lost down some Internet rabbit hole of unsolved mysteries, but he never thought he'd be living one, and how petrifying it would be. Connor searched in JD's eyes, looking to see if he believed him, at least a little bit, but his eyes were dark, darker than he ever remembered seeing them, and betrayed nothing. Then JD averted his gaze, slowly tracing his fingers through the handwritten part of the letter.

"Who else saw the note?" he asked carefully. "You know, before the pencil part?"

Connor shrugged, unsure why that was relevant.

"I don't know, just Evan and me as far as I know. I don't think Hansen saw the added part though, he would have mentioned it, but he just seemed like he couldn't get rid of it fast enough."

More silence. Connor got impatient.

"Well? he pried. "I'm kinda throwing a fucking lot out here man, nothing to say?"

JD sighed. He let go of the letter and buried his head in his hands. After what seemed like forever, he looked back at Connor.

"I have to tell you something. But you have to swear on your life you won't tell anyone."

Chapter Text

JD.

After Connor gave his word, JD still wasn't sure he could fully trust him. Even if he managed to convince him to keep the secret, the guy was prone to outbursts, he was unstable, and who knew what could come from it...? But what other choice did he have? It had been careless on his part to not think harder about the meaning of the note, why it was there, and who could have seen it. However, at least for now, it seemed that as long as he could keep Connor quiet, things didn't have to fall apart. He was freaking out on the inside, but just had to play this next part very carefully.

He swallowed, doing his best to make his expression look sad and as if tormented by a terribly traumatic experience.

"You can't tell absolutely anyone, not a single soul, or else, well, I'm fucked, completely fucked," he said, his voice breaking a bit with fear -fully on purpose.

Connor seemed to be buying it though, and looked worried, huddling closer to him.

"I won't, I already told you, I swear. The hell's going on JD?"

JD checked around to make sure there wasn't anyone nearby before continuing.

"That Friday, at the party... I went there, to pick Veronica up. They had locked her in a bedroom as a shitty prank or something. I came through the window, and, well, we got a bit distracted, and we left it open. Then Rich showed up, I don't know if high or wasted or what, but he was completely freaking out...he attacked me. Veronica left to go get help. We were scuffling and- and he just lost his balance. I don't really know how, but, in the struggle, he ended up falling through the window. I tried to reach for him, but couldn't grab him in time...he fell."

The best lies always have some truth to them, always use the truth to lie. JD's dad had taught him all sorts of things.

He liked Connor. He didn't want to lie to him, but it was what was best for him; for everyone, really.

"I went to check on him, but he was already..." He sighed and ran a hand through his hair. "I knew I was in deep shit. It was an accident, but what judge is gonna take one look at me and believe that? Then...I saw the note poking out of his jeans. And saw an opportunity. He was already gone, what point is there ruining someone else's life over an accident, right? So I just, faked his writing. And then Veronica and I left."

He tried to leave his Ronnie out of it as much as possible. If Connor did betray him, he didn't want things to blow up on her as well. Connor was silent though. Now it was JD who was investigating his expression in search of what he thought, what he would do.

"Holy shit," Connor finally breathed out. "Holy shit."

"My thoughts exactly. So..." JD stirred, restless. "Will you uh, keep this between us, or am I gonna have to get myself some soap on a rope?"

Connor snorted despite his utter shock. Then he took a deep breath, rubbing his face.

"Covering up a death like that...This is like- hardcore illegal. Like...not selling-drugs-to-classmates-at-parties illegal, like, illegal illegal. Like ruining-your-whole-life illegal."

"I know," JD growled, a bit more aggressively than he'd meant. He needed to keep himself together, he was pretty much at this kid's mercy now, after all.

"I won't say anything," Connor finally stated, to JD's surprise. "Like shit, I don't care if that makes me an accomplice or whatever the fuck, he went after you for no reason, why would your entire life have to be ruined because he was off his rockers one night? I'm certainly not gonna be one to rat out."

JD sighed with immense relief. He could have hugged the guy, if either of them had been huggers, which they very much were not.

"Thank you, Connor," he said instead, as earnestly as possible, and fully meaning it.

"I'm pretty sure I'm like, the best friend in history now," he teased, a slight smile appearing on his lips despite the grim circumstances. "Helping your buddy fake someone's suicide to cover up their death has got to be high up there."

JD chuckled.

"I'll be sure to get you a 'world's best friend and criminal accomplice' mug."

They both laughed. JD didn't know what he had been so worried about. Things would be fine.

Jeremy.

Jeremy could barely believe his classmate was dead, though it was impossible not to realize it, because it was all everyone was talking about. His locker was covered in cards and roses, and it was just...surreal. Rich had seemed so strong, so invincible, what had changed?

What also left him in disbelief was how people talked about him, like he was just the greatest guy to ever set foot in the school, like he hadn't burned down someone's house while there were still people inside before jumping; even the kids he'd bullied regularly now shed tears and joined the tragedy show. It was as if everything had just been turned upside down.

"You think...it had to do with the squip?" Michael asked him in a hushed tone, as they both sat in their English class.

"Doubt it, why would something that was helping him make it worse? He talked about the thing like it was just the best that had ever happened to him," Jeremy replied thoughtfully.

"If it was helping him so much, why didn't it stop him?"

Jeremy had no answer to that, but either way, he didn't have time to reply, because Miss Flemming burst through the doors.

Mr. Seabury, the English teacher, immediately scowled at her.

"Miss Flemming, this is no longer your class, and I would appreciate it if you didn't interrupt-"

"A kid has died!" she exclaimed, clutching a stack of papers to her chest, completely disregarding the man's words.

Jeremy and Michael exchanged their usual 'There go adults being crazy again' look.

"We need to discuss this, and English is the perfect vehicle to take us to our inner emotional worlds."

The English teacher sighed, but made a gesture as if giving up and sat on his chair. Arguing with Flemming took a lot of energy he didn't possess this early in the morning.

"Proceed, then."

Miss Flemming smiled triumphantly and turned to the students, to soon start handing out the papers.

"I've made copies of Rich's suicide note for us to explore..."

"What?"

"Cool!"

"This is disturbing."

Those were some of the comments uttered by the students. Jeremy believed he agreed the most with the last one. But the teacher didn't seem to hear any of them.

"I'm just so thrilled, to finally have an example of the profound sensitivity a human animal is capable of. This is the loveliest suicide note I've ever read!"

"How many have you read, Miss Flemming?" Jeremy asked raising his hand, unable to help his curiosity.

"Twenty-two."

"Oh-" Wait. What?

"So! We need to share the feelings this suicide has spurred in all of us. Anyone?"

One of the students started hesitantly raising his hand, then lowered it, then raised it again.

"Rich always used to call me a girl," he admitted. "Now I see, he wasn't really trying to insult my masculinity -which I'm not insecure about at all by the way, umm... but I see now that he was just showing his own insecurities at being considered less of a man for liking other men."

"Brilliant! I really feel like we are getting to the bottom of this!"

"He always shoved my face against the lockers and insulted me," another kid joined in. "I think that might have been because he liked me!"

"Good!" Miss Flemming encouraged. "Feel, kids, feel!"

"Uhh.." Jeremy raised his hand. "Rich was always calling me gay, maybe he was projecting as well. Like maybe, he thought bullying other people could be an outlet for the pain he was in for feeling like he wasn't 'normal', but in the end, it wasn't enough. So the only true escape he found to all of that was death. And perhaps, we should see that as an example. Like, we should work hard at being more accepting of each other, so other kids don't feel like the only way out of feeling alienated is through taking their own lives."

He wasn't sure where all of that was coming from, but once he had started, he couldn't stop. He had people's attention on him, and not in a bad 'you're a weirdo' way, but in a good way. It felt great.

The teacher's expression had lightened up as if she was glowing.

"Yes!" she exclaimed. "We are making so much progress..."

The bell announcing the end of the school day rang, interrupting her. Miss Flemming took a deep breath and clapped her hands.

"We will continue this later. Good work everyone, and remember, suicide is bad!"

"Jeeze," Michael uttered to Jeremy as they gathered their things to leave. "If school was this bizarre, imagine what that funeral's gonna be like."

Chapter Text

Veronica.

Note to self, breaking into JD’s bedroom through the window yields great results. First time, check!

Now it was an hour after that, they were lounging on the couch downstairs, and it felt right to be there. In her own home, she wasn’t allowed to have her feet up on the cushions, but here, JD had assured her no one would mind. So she was curled up, leaning against him, his arm around her. His jacket smelled like him, like dry autumn leaves, leather, smoke, and the warm scent of his skin, now mixed with her perfume.

There were still boxes scattered around the house as if the family had never finished unpacking, or as if they were ready to move at a moment’s notice. One of those boxes was the makeshift table where the TV was propped up in front of them. They were ‘ironically’ watching some corny action movie, but Veronica wasn’t really paying attention. She had too much on her mind. It had been a tough day at school, and the events of Friday night kept playing in an endless loop in her head.

It had been an accident. JD hadn’t meant to push Rich off the window and she hadn’t meant to not lift him up. But still, she felt bad. But not as bad as she thought she should feel. Which in a way, just made her feel worse. They’d killed someone! Sure, he was trying to hurt them, and he was a bully, an asshole most of the time…but he was also just a kid. With a chance to grow and a whole future ahead of him. A future they’d just…snuffed out. She snuffed out, when she could have grabbed him but didn’t-

“Hey.” JD seemed to have noticed her growing anxiety. “You’re a million miles away.” He trailed kisses on her lips, cheeks, and jaw, short and soft and sweet, and it effectively made everything beyond them disappear.

For a bit, but then there were sounds of screaming from the movie and Veronica pulled away. They reminded her of Rich.

“Sorry, I just…I’m worried.” She played with the collar of his shirt, absentminded.

“About Heather? You think she’ll go through with her threats?”

Veronica shook her head.

“Not right now. She needs to play the grieving girl for a bit, ‘vindictive bitch’ wouldn’t look good in the public eye after someone’s suicide. So it bought us some time, at least. But I was thinking about Rich…I mean, don’t you feel bad, about what happened?"

“Of course I do. But we did what had to be done. He’s gone, and we are still here…”

He started kissing her neck. Veronica sighed and slowly let herself relax, curling her fingers in his soft brown hair, feeling calmer.

“Gosh Pops, you didn’t tell me you were bringing a girl over.”

Veronica didn’t expect to hear Bud Dean’s voice, and a bit startled she moved away to finally meet JD’s dad.

“Didn’t hear you come in, son,” JD replied without skipping a beat, leaning back on the couch.

He did a good job of masking his emotions behind nonchalance, but Veronica was getting pretty good at reading him, and she could tell the arm around her had tensed up, and his eyes were apprehensive.

She composed a polite smile and reached her hand out to offer it to Bud.

“Hi, Veronica Sawyer, it’s nice to meet you.”

The man was holding a six-pack, and instead of shaking her hand, he placed a beer in hers, giving her a once-over. There was an offputting air about him. Veronica couldn’t quite put it into words, but it felt like danger.

“You should stay for dinner, sweetheart, I’m sure the old man won’t mind,” Bud said, opening a can for himself and chugging it.

She never wanted to refuse an invite so badly in her life for no apparent reason.

“Oh, I’d love to, but we got a funeral to go to. And my mom is making me my favorite meal later. Spaghetti! Lots…of oregano…”

She set the beer down and stood in awkward silence.

“That’s nice,” JD said without even looking at her. “Last time I saw my mom, she was waving out the window of a library in Texas. Right, dad?"

“Right, son.” Bud had an unpleasant, tense smile, one that wordlessly said ‘You think you’re tougher than me but you’re not’.

JD sustained eye contact in return.

Was this seedy, tense, loaded with hidden resentment climate what the boy had to call his home? All of Veronica’s instincts told her to get them out of there quickly.

“Well, this was great, but we gotta motor…we don’t want to be late.”

“Have fun.”

She gently tugged on JD’s jacket, until the guy finally looked back at her. He gave a small nod and got up, holding her hand as he followed her out.

Dear diary , Veronica would write in her journal later. JD’s dad will not be speaking at our wedding.

Evan.

Funerals were a show. Except everyone was simultaneously the star and the audience. So everyone was paying attention to each other but not as much attention as they were paying to themselves. It was a strange game Evan didn’t really feel part of, as if he’d missed the moment when they handed out all these unspoken social rules.

And yet, he must have been doing something right, because no one seemed to be judging him. People kept giving him sad smiles or touching his arm or his shoulder for reassurance, the same way they did to Rich’s actual family members. Evan had suddenly become one of them . And all because of his stupid note. He had to clarify everything, talk to Rich’s father, but he hadn’t found the right time yet.

He’d be lying if he didn’t admit meanwhile he liked it a little bit, though. All this positive attention, while feeling like he was a part of something.

Connor was by his side supporting him as well, though he seemed more anxious than Evan normally did himself. He kept fidgeting and throwing glares at anyone who happened to meet his eye.

Evan let his arm hang near Connor’s and slowly inched his fingers closer until he was holding the other’s hand. He squeezed it in the hopes he could appease Connor’s mind, whatever it was that was troubling him. Connor's lips quirked up in the shade of a smile, and he squeezed back.

They were at the church, on the sort of entrance hall before you got to the main chapel. It was where everyone shed tears and greeted the grieving loved ones in a secret game of who cried and who showed condolences the best.

The Heathers and Plastics were, by far, winning that ‘game’. You wouldn’t know there was any animosity, any wars or sides between them by looking at them now. Like roses painted by ink, they all wore black in elegant dresses and see-through veils, and they looked beautiful and somber all at once.

“It’s so sad,” Heather McNamara lamented, a hand on Evan’s shoulder as if they were friends, as if they had ever spoken a word to each other before that. “One moment he was taking shots with everyone else and the next he’s just gone. Makes you wonder, that could be any of us. Who knows what tequila shot will be your last?”

“Uh, yeah,” Evan murmured.

As they went inside, Mick, Rich’s brother, gestured for Evan to come to the front with him and his father, John.

He seemed so tired Evan didn’t want to contradict him, he just gave Connor an apologetic look for leaving him alone and moved to the first row of benches.

The priest began speaking, first about Rich but soon derailing to the tragedy of teenage suicides and how video games and violent films were to blame. Not far from him were Paul, Bill, and their respective sons, Kurt and Ram.

"Dude, this is so weak. Everyone's being such a buzz kill," Ram whispered.

"Tell me about it, I bet Rich would rather we party in his honor or something," Kurt murmured.

"Funeral rave!" Ram snickered.

Bill shushed them harshly and smacked Ram in the back of the head.

"Show some respect, boys." He and Paul had been friends with John for a while now.

After the priest finished speaking, it was time for the eulogy, and John awkwardly shuffled to the stand, in front of the coffin. He took a look at Rich's large picture of him looking cooly at the camera, and then turned to the crowd.

"I uh, don't really know what I'm supposed to say up here. I'm certainly ashamed. My son Rich was…troubled. But he was a good kid, just with some demons to face. He was strong, but he was sick, and he couldn't win against that dirty illness. I just can't believe he was a homosexual…"

People nodded in sullen silence and solidarity.

"Now you wait just a minute, John," Bill interrupted suddenly, surprising the crowd. He seemed a bit embarrassed, like he hadn't meant to say that out loud, but then he composed a determined look and slowly rose to a stand. “Don’t you think it’s ignorant hateful talk like this, what made this world so hard for people like your boy to live in?”

People gasped, and Paul looked at his friend like he had just spit on his mother’s grave. He tried to pull him down by his arm, but Bill was resolute. After hesitating for just a moment, he stepped towards the stand, walking towards John, giving him a somewhat pleading look.

"He wasn't dirty. He wasn't wrong. He was just… an unpaired verse in the Lord's great song."

"My boy was a pansy, Bill," John insisted, but his voice sounded more desperate than spiteful.

"Yes. He was a homo. But that shouldn't scare us, should it?" Bill said, turning to the rest of the congregation. "Maybe it's time we open our eyes. After I found out what happened to your boy, I've been thinking, and praying…I even watched a documentary about gay lions! If nature follows God's will, then maybe there's a reason why you can't help the one you love."

His eyes wandered to Paul. The man widened his eyes, shocked, while Kurt and Ram exchanged weirded-out looks.

"He was desperate to be free," Bill insisted.

Paul shook his head.

"Bill, what is wrong with you?"

Bill took a deep breath and huffed.

"Paul, I can't believe you still refuse to get a clue, after all we've been through…yes I'm talkin' you and me! In the summer of '03!"

Gasps resounded all around the congregation. Everyone stood still, and Paul was the most petrified of them all.

Until, after a few seconds that seemed to drag on like hours, he stood up. A slow smile made his way to his lips.

"That was one hell of a fishing trip."

Bill smiled back, even more so when Paul started making his way to him. He received him in an embrace, and enraptured by the moment, they shared a kiss.

"Woah!" The entire church said pretty much in unison.

John was shocked. For a second he looked like he was about to yell every insult in the book at them, no matter how happy Bill and Paul looked. But then his eyes wandered to the coffin of his son, and slowly he simmered down, and sighed.

The priest cleared his throat, and the dads took the hint and went back to their seats, holding hands. Everyone pushed through the rest of the ceremony, but it was a blur after that confession. All the while, John’s eyes were distant, lost in thought.

Once it was over and everyone was heading out, Evan started following the crowd outside, but John stopped him.

The boy felt his heart race, half wanting to run away like the last time the man had confronted him. But John didn't look frustrated, he seemed…apologetic?

"Wait a moment, please. I… what happened here really made me reconsider things and...I want to invite you to dinner. You knew a side of my son I never got to see, and I- I would really love to see it, anything you can say. It's all that's left of him."

"Oh, Mr. Goranski, I don't think that's…" Evan couldn't think of what to say.

"Please."

How to say no to a man who had just lost his son, and looked at him with the slightest glimmer of hope? He didn't have the heart to crush that.

"Okay, uh, of course, I would love to."

"Thanks, kid," John patted his shoulder, in a way that felt so fatherly it took Evan aback a bit. It's not like he really knew firsthand how a typical father would act, but it had felt oddly right.

After that, the boy went outside, and for someone who normally tried to go by unnoticed, he was surprised to see himself suddenly swarmed by people. And not just anyone: the popular people.

Jake wrapped an arm around his shoulder, which made the blond startle at the sudden physical contact.

"It's okay bro, it wasn't your fault. If Rich liked you it's 'cause he knew you were it ," Jake assured him, side-hugging him in a way that felt honest and pure, and made him feel warm.

All around, Jenna, Brooke, the Heathers, the Plastics, they had all formed a close circle around him and seemed to be vying for his attention, now that this gay love suicide was the biggest news around. It was suddenly trendy to be compassionate.

Even Zoey, Connor's sister, approached him. She had never even acknowledged his existence before, but now she seemed truly sympathetic.

"I'm…sorry about what happened." She said, a weak smile on her lips.

Evan couldn't help but look at them all, amazed. They were all attentive to his words. Not to judge, but to offer support.

Could this all be true? Could it be that this whole mess was what was making him finally feel seen and heard?

And… was it truly such a bad thing that he kind of really liked it?

Chapter Text

Cady.

She was decided to get her revenge on Regina, it wasn’t like she was having any second thoughts, but still… it didn’t change how hurt she felt. She just needed a little time to regroup, lick her wounds, and she’d be ready to get back out there.

It did feel a bit pathetic, though, after all she had done and how far she’d come climbing the social ladder, that she was now here, in a bathroom stall during lunchtime to essentially hide from everyone and dwell in her loneliness, feeling as much of a loser as she had the first day of school.

Taking a deep breath in an attempt to give herself confidence, she grabbed the backpack she'd dropped on the floor and pulled out the item she had brought.

Her fingers trailed the pink cover of the Burn Book, carefully, as if she expected it to actually burn her. Lathered in glitter and lipstick, it looked so nice from the outside for something that was so vicious on the inside.

Just like the ones who wrote it, she thought spitefully.

It had been much easier to get it than she had expected. All she had to do was visit Regina's house while she was at the mall, with the pretext of wanting to ask Regina's mom for advice. Mrs. George was so excited about it that it made Cady feel a little bad.

While they talked about the hardships of teenage love and Mrs. George went on and on about some High School crush from thirty years ago, Cady had excused herself to the bathroom. Then all she had to do was make a detour to Regina's room to grab the book. So easy!

And now she had it, here in the school’s restrooms, pondering what exactly would be the best way to use this bomb.

Some sudden, insistent knocking on the stall's door made her jump.

“You’ve been in there a very long time,” someone who sounded like a surprisingly good imitation of Miss Flemming said. “You are either doing drugs or very constipated from using drugs!”

Cady quickly put the book back in her bag and hurried to open the door, worried she would get in trouble.

“No! I wasn’t-”

She cut herself short when she saw two students in front of her, and no teachers. One was a tall boy who didn’t seem to be able to hold back his laughter, and the other was a girl wearing a highly customized jean jacket and dark lipstick, grinning at her.

“Hey. Cady, right? I’m Janis.”

“And je m'appelle Sasha Fierce,” the boy claimed, pointing at himself in a gesture full of flair.

“This is Damian. He’s almost too gay to function.”

“Uhm, hi.” The blonde tried to be polite, but couldn’t help sounding a little curt. She’d learn to distrust everyone’s intentions, especially if they appeared friendly at first.

“You may be wondering why we are accosting you,” Janis said.

“As Junior Co-chair of the Students’ Activities Committee,'' Damian supplied, “accompanied by his designated art freak, it is my duty to inform you of the new campaign that’s started. For suicide-awareness.”

“Oh… I hadn’t heard of it,” Cady murmured.

“It’s pretty new,” Damian continued. “Do you know Alana Beck? She started it. Martha Dunnstock is the VP, we are but humble ambassadors…and we would like for you to join us.”

“Me?” Cady frowned. “Why?”

“Look… everyone knows what happened with you and Regina,” Janis intervened. “We wanted to check if you were okay… I know way too well what it’s like to be her friend one second and thrown away like trash the next. It sucks.”

Cady stared at her for a moment, realization sinking in.

“Wait, Janis…You’re Janis Sarkisian?”

“So you’ve heard of me. Terrible things I hope,” the other girl said, a sardonic smile growing on her lips.

“Well…Regina did call you a space dyke,” Cady admitted quietly. “She said you freaked out when she couldn’t invite you to her birthday party because she could only invite a few people…”

Janis didn’t show much of a reaction, but her smile became more tense, more forced, and her eyes darkened.

“Oh that hot liar!” Damian, on the other hand, instantly looked pissed and indignant. “That’s not what happened at all! She-”

“Damian, no, it’s fine,” Janis interrupted him, and took a deep breath, soon looking unaffected again. “I’m so over that bitch.”

There was something about the hurt in her eyes though, Cady noted.

Clearly, finding out awful things were being said about you behind your back had a way of cutting deep… Didn’t even matter if you were close before, that kind of resentment was strong, and didn’t go away easily…

That was it!

If everyone knew what Regina was saying about them, that same kind of resentment would grow, wouldn’t it? If everyone hated her more than they admired or feared her, her reign would end!

She just needed a way to spread the hateful words of the Burn Book like wildfire… And she knew the perfect person to light the match.

“Thank you, really, thank you so much!” She said excitedly, bouncing on her heels.

The pair seemed a bit puzzled with her reaction.

“Does that mean you are going to join…?”

“Sorry, you seem really nice, but I don’t think I have the time…There’s something I’ve got to do, sorry bye!” She dashed to the door to leave. “Thank you!”

Janis and Damian watched her go, pretty dumbfounded.

“Uh- You’re welcome?” Janis said, giving Damian a look.

The guy simply shrugged in return. He had no clue what had just happened either.

***

It wasn’t an easy task to find Heather Chandler alone, without her posse at her heels. But this was strictly between Cady and her, no one else needed to know, so she was determined to do so.

She finally got lucky right after classes ended, seeing Heather sitting on one of the benches in front of the school, perhaps waiting for someone. She had one leg over the other, sitting up with perfect posture, and managed to look so regal that even though she sat on a common bench, it seemed like a throne when she was on it.

As Cady approached, she noticed Heather was busy with her phone, selecting among seemingly a hundred pictures of herself in just slightly different poses or angles to find the perfect one.

“Um, hi,” the younger girl greeted, gripping her backpack in front of her.

Heather didn’t even acknowledge her existence, her freshly painted red nail kept swiping.

“Heather? I need to talk to you. You are going to want to hear this.”

The girl finally looked up. There was a subtle air of disdain in her expression reserved for any and all random students, but Cady could practically see the exact moment Chandler recognized her, and general contempt was replaced by spite.

“If Regina wants to say something to me she can do it herself. I don’t talk to lapdogs.”

She went back to her phone, and Cady tried to brush off the insult.

“I’m not friends with Regina anymore,” she claimed determinately.

That finally seemed to get enough of Heather’s attention. She looked back at her with a raised eyebrow, and slowly a cruel smile curled her lips.

“Oh, that’s right, I remember. Because she slept with your crush at the Halloween party.”

“Slept with?!” Cady repeated, alarmed. “No, they just, made out…”

“Oh. Of course.”

Heather nodded, with a glint of amusement in her eyes, like she knew something she didn’t. Was she toying with her…? Cady shook her head, forcing herself to focus.

“Never mind that. I want to take her down.”

Heather chuckled, tilting her head as she looked up at the other.

“So the puppy wants to bite, how very.”

Was that appreciation in her derisive tone...?

“And I know if there’s someone that hates her as much as me, it’s you," Cady continued. "So…we could help each other. I’ll give you the weapon, and you get to do the firing.”

“And why wouldn’t you want to do the firing yourself?”

“I’m not stupid. If I want this to really work, it needs to come from someone powerful enough to actually make a difference. And no one is more powerful than you.”

Her ego seemed successfully stroked by that, Heather was practically preening. Perhaps there was nothing like praise and planning someone’s demise to get her in a good mood.

“That’s true. So what do you have for me?”

Cady hesitated for a second. She knew she couldn’t trust Heather, that she could be incredibly ruthless without a reason beyond the mere fun of it. But if she could trust something, it was how much she wanted to end Regina. And that was enough for her.

She pulled the book out of her backpack and handed it to the other. The girl in red looked interested as she took it, even if it was somewhat hidden by a faux air of indifference.

“What’s this?”

“Something Regina made, with Karen and Gretchen. It’s full of horrible things they’ve said about pretty much everyone at the school. I was thinking, if it got out that she’s been saying all these things about people, especially with the anti-bullying movement that’s been around lately… it could ruin her reputation, right? She’d lose respect and just be hated. And ruin her image in front of the teachers too. And Aaron would see how much of a bitch she really is as well! She will be alone, and everyone’s enemy.”

Heather giggled, a sound full of mirth.

“Color me impressed.”

Cady felt so warm with Heather Chandler’s approval. She knew she shouldn’t, knowing exactly how it had gone down last time she relished in the praise of someone so important, but…she couldn’t help it. It felt nice to be appreciated.

“I have a vendetta of my own on my agenda first,” Heather continued, slipping the book in her large purse. “But once that’s taken care of…you can be certain it will be Regina’s turn. I won’t forget what you've done."

A wide smile was plastered on Cady’s lips. She was about to say something, but then Heather Duke walked up to them, looking highly annoyed that Cady was there. But she didn’t even address her, only turning to Chandler.

“Sorry for being late, Heather. Ready for the hair salon? You will love this woman, it was so hard to get an appointment with her but she finally-”

“There’s been a change of plans, Heather,” Chandler declared, her red lips curling up. “You can stay. I’m going with Cady.”

Chapter Text

Jeremy.

Evan, Rich, Evan, Rich, Evan. That was all everyone was talking about during play practice, they still hadn't tired of the latest scandal.

Jeremy tried to ignore the comments and hunched down on one of the chairs, to focus on writing. As he didn't remotely have any acting skills whatsoever and had embarrassingly proven so at the first tryouts, he'd been assigned to write the script. He was still a little surprised they handed him such a big responsibility, but maybe it meant people considered him smart, at least? Fingers crossed.

The thing was he didn't actually possess particularly good writing skills either, beyond proper use of grammar and punctuation. But Miss Flemming seemed to have extremely positive reactions to each and every idea from all students, so he was pretty much just mixing all of those together and winging it. It seemed to be working so far.

While they had him working silently in a corner, the actresses were going to do auditions to select the female lead. Initially, only Regina and Heather Chandler dared step forward; no one else had a big enough death wish to invoke their shared wrath by even considering stealing their thunder.

Despite the reluctance, Miss Flemming was adamant about everyone participating, so Regina and Heather simply delivered the most subtle form of carnage by directing piercing glares to each and every girl as they were called.

Jeremy didn't really pay it any mind though, and only lifted up his head when it was Christine's turn to show what she'd rehearsed.

Almost instinctively, his hand slipped into the pocket of his jacket, securing the chocolate figurine nestled inside. It was shaped like Shakespeare, and wrapped in Victorian-style foil. He'd gotten it for Christine, with the intention of giving it to her during their break as a way to wish her good luck in the final decision of the lead role.

He would either celebrate with her or be her shoulder to cry on, it was all carefully planned.

But first, her audition. She was going to recite the lines he wrote. It was oddly exhilarating to think she'd probably been in her room all afternoon yesterday, reading his words over and over again, memorizing them. Even if it was about some ridiculous stuff where she was a florist and different flowers represented different feelings she had, and those would eventually sprout into actual characters later on...Thanks to the magic of love, or something.

It was stupid, but Christine's acting made it seem so deep and heartfelt.

She looked so beautiful, right in her element. Her face shined; her eyes glinted with passion; her movements, normally so fidgety and all over the place, were so smooth now; and her voice was potent and melodic all at once as it resounded throughout the theater room.

He could spend forever watching her do what she loved.

Jake wasn't watching her. Jake wasn't noticing any of it, he was chatting with Regina. Jake didn't get her a Shakespeare chocolate, probably didn't even know what she liked. And yet, Jake was the one who had Christine's attention. The one she gave that look to, that hopeful, cautiously dreamy look.

At least... Jeremy could make sure her and Jake's characters in the play didn't have any romantic scenes together. That was something, right?

The chocolate had started to melt in his pocket by the time they were given their break.

He was about to approach Christine, but she immediately went to Jake.

"Hey." She smiled softly at the boy as he turned to her. "I was thinking we could go grab milkshakes?"

"Sure! When?"

"Now...?"

"Oh." Jake winced, and pointed behind him with his thumb, to some of the other guys. "Thing is we are actually leaving practice early, we have to figure out our Model UN stuff. I picked Amsterdam!"

"Netherlands, technically," Gretchen corrected behind him.

"Yeah!"

"And yes, we gotta go," the girl added, glancing at Regina to make sure for the fifth time she was okay with her leaving. Regina didn't seem to care.

Christine tried to hide her faltering smile.

"Oh, right, of course. Rain check?"

"You got it." Jake smiled brightly at her before joining the small group that had already started to leave, and Christine swiftly disappeared somewhere backstage.

After a moment, Jeremy followed after her, and found her sitting cross-legged on the ground, downcast.

"Yo."

"Yo." Christine forced a smile, before her eyes fell down to her hands again. She scratched at the cracked purple polish on her nails.

"Are you okay?" He asked, sitting beside her.

"Hm? Oh, yeah, of course." Silence hung in the air for just a moment before she spoke again. "You saw that with Jake? It was nothing, really."

There was another pause, and then she continued once more.

"I mean, things are fine between us. And I get he has lots of things to do, and lots of friends, and my god, his best friend just died! Which he won't open up about and ugh, I'm such a jerk for even thinking this, and maybe toxic, but... it's just that...He's always got something else, and, sometimes I feel like I'm very low on his list of priorities, you know? Like...I'm more of an afterthought."

For once, Jeremy didn't hesitate with his words.

"You deserve to be a priority."

This time, Christine's smile seemed a bit more genuine.

"Thanks, Jeremy. You've always been so easy to talk to." She patted his knee."I'm glad we're friends."

It felt like a stab to his chest, a little bit.

"Yeah, hah, of course." He scratched the back of his head with his free hand, the other one still gripping the chocolate hidden in his pocket.

He should give her the candy now, like he'd planned. Lift up her mood, seal the deal.

"You look like you want to say something," she pointed out.

It would be so easy. All he had to say was that he got her something, and show the gift. Just- pull it out.

"I..."

His hand didn't want to move. What would she think of it? What if she saw it as an out-of-line romantic gesture? If she laughed at his face or rejected him for it?

He was gripping it too tight now, the chocolate was getting squashed in the shape of his fingers.

Christine was watching him attentively, patiently. It only made it harder.

"It's just that... I really, really need to pee," were the words that finally ended up tumbling out of his mouth.

"Oh-"

"Sorry." Without another word, Jeremy stood up and rushed out as fast as he could without drawing any more eyes to him, embarrassment burning in his cheeks.

On his way out he finally took his hand out of his pocket and looked: Shakespeare was positively dead, and his fingers were covered in chocolate with bits and pieces of fuzz from the jacket stuck to it. It was a mess.

He grimaced, and went to the bathroom to clean himself up. He threw what was left in the trash, and went to wash his hands.

"I need to pee?! Come on..." He chided himself while shutting the water off and drying his hands.

With a sigh, he started to leave.

As he was passing next to one of the stalls' walls however, his backpack got caught on an exposed nail, and when he turned to see what was going on, the fabric of his front pocket ripped, all of its contents spilling on the ground.

He let out a groan. Seriously?! Hadn't this day gone wrong enough already?

Par for the course, maybe... Defeatedly, he kneeled down on the -alarmingly dirty- bathroom floor to gather his things. It was then that he saw among his belongings the small pill case that contained the quantum technology pill.

He'd been carrying it around everywhere he went, having it near had become a comfort of sorts, a safety net he knew he could fall back on whenever things got too overwhelming.

He took it out, and held it in between his thumb and index finger, examining it. All he could think about was that he was tired...Tired of overthinking, tired of everything going wrong, tired of scribbled backpacks and melted chocolate and ripped pockets.

Cady and Evan had been outcasts just like him, and looking at how far they'd gotten...Jeremy needed help to follow that road. He just wanted to achieve a little more than basic survival, was that so much to ask?

Hastily, he unzipped the main compartment of his backpack and rummaged through it...Yes! He still had a bottle of Mountain Dew he'd bought ages ago. Completely lukewarm, but still useful.

It was time. He was ready.

"Here goes...everything," he said to himself.

He shut his eyes tight, put the pill on his tongue, and downed it with the help of the soda. It left a faint minty taste as it went down.

He stood very still, waiting for something to happen.

Anything, really.

Any day, now...

Seriously, if anything at all could happen that would be super dope, he thought, trying to manifest it into the universe.

The only thing that eventually came was the sinking realization in the pit of Jeremy's stomach that it really had been a scam all this time. A magical pill to fix all his problems? Come on...

He was such an idiot. Rich was probably laughing at him from his grave.

Dejectedly, he finished picking up his things and dragged his feet back to the stage to finish rehearsal.

Christine was sitting next to Jenna and Brooke, they seemed to be having a not-so-pleasant conversation. But she waved at Jer when she spotted him, and patted the seat next to her for him to join them.

He smiled and his heart began pumping faster as he tried to figure out if he dared sit there when the other two girls were clearly looking at him like he was gross. But Christine was there...

Before he could decide on anything though, his head suddenly wracked with terrible pain.

— Target female: inaccessible —.

"OWW!"

"Jeremy?!" Christine stood up, alarmed.

— Calibration in progress. Please excuse some mild discomfort —.

"Mild?! Who said that?" Jeremy turned around blindly.

"Jeremy, what's wrong?" Christine insisted.

— Calibration complete. Access procedure initiated. Discomfort levels may increase —.

"AAAH!" Jeremy shouted and doubled over, holding his head. The pain was unbearable, it felt like his brain was going to explode, and he couldn't stop his body from spasming.

"The freak's freaking out!" Heather Duke exclaimed.

"You're not supposed to use that word with freaks anymore, it's offensive," Brooke interjected. "You have to say socially-deficient."

" You are socially-deficient."

"We should get the nurse!"

— Accessing: neural memory. Accessing: muscle memory. Access procedure: complete —.

The pain vanished as fast as it had come, like it was never there. Jeremy frantically looked around, too confused to do anything else, trying to find the source of the male voice booming in his head.

His eyes landed on a man a few feet away staring at him through sunglasses. He seemed in his twenties, and was tall, with facial features that looked carved in stone. A black coat flowed behind him almost like a cape, every bit of him was oozing coolness. His idea of coolness, anyway.

— Jeremy Heere. Welcome to your Super Quantum Unit Intel Processor...Your SQUIP, — the voice said.

And with that, Jeremy passed out, falling face-first onto the theater floor.

Chapter Text

Evan.

"This won't hurt," the doctor said, holding a saw.

Not exactly the kind of image you ever wanted to be faced with. The electrical whirr of the instrument resonated loudly in Evan's ears.

And yet, the anxiety he felt coursing through his veins wasn't so much about getting his cast taken off, but rather how scrutinizing he considered the doctor's eyes to be, wondering what judgments she might be forming in her mind about him. His social anxiety hadn't been so bad lately, but it refused to go away completely, even with the medication. In fact, maybe the meds weren't really doing anything after all.

Either way, the cast removal was a fairly straightforward process, and it wasn't painful like he'd feared for a moment there. Finally, he was free, and hopefully could put behind him everything that had led him to that fall from the tree that day...

They directed him back to the waiting room. His mom was supposed to sign some papers before he could leave, but she was running late, because they were really short-staffed at the hospital, apparently. Taco Tuesday was off again. Nothing new, unfortunately. Evan wished he was 18 and able to sign the papers himself to just leave. For now, he was resigned to wait. He felt people's gazes on him, so to ignore it, he chose to glue his eyes to his phone screen.

He didn't expect to find a notification from Connor there, a text sent just a few minutes ago. His heart began racing, but not with anxiety this time. It was more like it was fluttering in his chest as he read:

'did they go too deep and cut off ur arm?'

A smile climbed to his face, and he didn't take too long to reply.

'Yes. I'm writing one-handed now.'

'ohmygod when did u learn sarcasm?
i'm scared'

'You are the bad influence.'

'Wow
now i'm reconsidering my invite.'

This time Evan's reply was instant, eager.

'Invite?'

'u got that weird-ass lunch with Rich's dad on Saturday, right?'

'It's not that weird. But yes.'

'i got my sister to lend me her car, don't ask how.
how about after ur thing we drive to the apple orchard?
we could spend the day there, get ice cream or whatever
a picnic, maybe?'

Evan's hands were shaking as he read that, feeling a mixture of excitement and queasiness. Was this what people called butterflies in their stomach? It felt more like nausea to him. But in a sort of good way. It took him forever to gather the courage to say what he wanted to next.

'Is this
a date?'

'it's not not a date.'

'I'd like that.'

'come by my house at 3?'

'Will do!'

'see ya, Hansen'

Evan kept staring at the screen of their messages for a while after that.

Connor.

He was a little surprised, by 3.15 on Saturday. He'd figured Hansen was the type to be extremely punctual, and would be there at 3 o'clock sharp. While waiting inside the parked car, he started thinking maybe he'd misjudged the guy.

By 4, he was getting a bit pissed. He'd gone back inside the house and texted him, but gotten no answer. He tried calling...it went straight to voicemail.

By 6, he didn't know whether to be more worried or angry; he was both, really. Why stand him up without any sort of heads-up? He had a feeling if Evan showed up now without any excuse, he'd want to punch him in the face. He would never, but he would definitely feel like doing it.

By 8, what he felt was more of a quiet, cold moodiness. He didn't once look up from his plate at dinner, and didn't reply to his mother when she asked how his day had been. That made his father start throwing comments about how military school would straighten him up and fix those manners, insisting on him joining for the millionth time. It promptly led Connor to snap and they broke into a fight that lasted until he was storming off to his bedroom.

Sunday rolled around. All throughout the morning he'd gotten a million text messages from Evan, apologizing for forgetting in a thousand different ways, but as soon as Connor was sure the guy was okay, just an asshole, he decided to ignore them all and turn off his phone.

In the afternoon he laid on his bed, arms crossed over his chest, looking out the window while his mind was being bombarded with rampant thoughts. Not even his speakers blasting his favorite hard rock songs were enough to drown those out. What had he been thinking, trying to get close to people? All they did was use your vulnerability to hurt you, he should know better by now. Maybe he was better off alone. Though he'd been so sure Evan was different...

He heard over the music the doorbell ring downstairs, and had to repress a groan, knowing full well who it was. He turned to give his back to the door, not wanting to meet Evan's stupid, cute, but stupid face.

It didn't take long for Evan to show up though. He timidly knocked on the door, and entered without waiting for an answer. Connor half-wished he hadn't lost his 'locking the door' privileges from his parents months ago.

"Woah, this is your bedroom?" Evan said as he came in, looking around in awe before he closed the door behind him. Posters from bands and movies covered the walls, and there was a large TV set with several consoles hooked to it. "Your house is huge."

"The hell are you doing here?" Connor still didn't turn.

"Your mom let me in, she seems really nice...Connor, I'm so sorry."

He heard Evan's footsteps approaching, quickly, just as his talking became faster.

"I didn't mean to forget about our plans, it's just that, after the lunch I got a call from Karen Smith! Karen Smith! I didn't even know she had my number, and she asked where I was and I told her and she said they were going to pick me up for a hangout at Regina's and my mind went completely blank and I'd never been to a hangout before and I didn't even say anything but they showed up and it wasn't a prank and I went and and and-"

"Breathe." Connor sighed and turned to look at the other. He turned off the music and sat up on the bed, letting his back rest against its frame.

Evan did as told, he took a deep breath and let the air out shakily. He looked so guilty and worried it started to soften up Connor's expression. Dammit.

"It's whatever, I don't really care," he muttered.

Evan set down his backpack by his feet and sat on the bed.

"It's okay if you do..."

"I don't."

"Connor-"

"I said I don't! Jesus!"

He only realized he'd said that maybe a bit too loud when he noticed Evan flinch. But he didn't take it back.

"Okay, okay," Evan replied quickly. "But I'm still sorry."

"Okay."

There was a tense silence before the blond spoke again. He wriggled his hands, nervous.

"So can we still have our not-date some other time? Next weekend, maybe? I...was really looking forward to it."

"Sure," Connor conceded. "If you aren't too busy with your new BFFs that is."

He kept his tone lighter, letting amusement shine through his eyes to show he was just teasing. For the most part.

"I'm never too busy to be with you," the other replied, with a certainty that was rare for him. "But...I did want to talk to you about that. The others."

He rubbed his neck, and Connor raised an eyebrow.

"Oh?"

"Okay, so here's the thing." Evan turned to face Connor, folding his knees as he settled over the bed. "So...you know how we agreed that over lunch at the Goranski's place I would tell them everything? That Rich didn't write that letter? Well uh, I kind of.. didn't do that. I'd never seen someone look so sad... So it's more like I told them Rich and I were secretly friends and I didn't know he had a crush but we had a strong bond and that we had secret email accounts and now they want to see the emails?"

Connor slapped his own forehead with his palm.

"For god's sake, Evan."

"My cousin Jared agreed to hack the dates of the emails to make it look like we sent them a while ago. But...I need help actually writing them."

"So that's the real reason you came here."

"No! I did want to apologize properly...but...please, Connor. I don't have anyone else I can trust."

The brunette grumbled. But he did feel the urge to help Evan, and not only that, he had to protect JD's secret, he realized. People couldn't know the note was fake, or they might figure out it hadn't been a suicide. And then they could find out he'd known all along.

The whole situation made his guts wrench, but he tried to focus.

"Okay...I'll help you write them."

"You will?" Evan's eyes filled with such a ridiculous amount of hope he looked like a goddamned puppy. And then he threw his arms around the other and hugged him.

Connor was surprised, and then he laughed.

"Okay, okay, chill! Before you break one of my ribs."

"Sorry," Evan let him go, smiling.

"So how do we do this?" Connor asked.

"I was thinking...you set up an email account as if you were Rich and we write to each other. And then we let Jared switch up the dates."

"This is so fucking weird. Fine."

Evan reached for the laptop in his backpack and moved to sit next to Connor on the bed. Their shoulders were touching and the computer was propped up on each of their thighs. Connor felt his cheeks flush at the proximity, and hoped Evan wouldn't notice.

"You should start," Evan said, sliding the computer onto the other's lap.

"Alright..." Connor turned on the laptop and rolled his eyes when he was greeted by a forest wallpaper. "Seriously? This tree obsession is gonna land you on My Strange Addiction one day, I swear."

"It's not an addiction," Evan corrected, and opened up the browser and Gmail for him. "Okay, what's something that Rich would use for an address?"

"Oh I know the perfect thing," Connor smirked and typed.

"Connor!"

"What? It's perfect," Connor laughed.

Evan shook his head, but didn't dispute it.

"Well I already made mine ahead of time, so put [email protected] as the recipient."

"Dork," Connor said and began writing.

From: [email protected]

To: [email protected]

Dear Evan Hansen,

We've been way too out of touch. Things have been crazy, and it sucks that we don't talk that much. But I should tell you that I think of you each night, I rub my nipples and start moaning with delight

"Why would you write that?!" Evan sounded alarmed while Connor was busy cackling.

"He was supposed to be in love with you right? I'm just trying to tell the truth!"

"You sound like Jared. If he hadn't changed schools bet you two would get along. But these emails need to be perfect, just- I'll do it."

He yanked the computer and began writing away.

I've gotta tell you, life without you has been h̶a̶r̶d̶  b̶a̶d̶  rough.

"Kinky," Connor chuckled. This was way more fun than he would have thought at first. Evan narrowed his eyes at him but kept writing.

And I miss talking about life and other stuff. I like my dad

"Nope."

I love my dad but each day's another fight. If I stop being mean then everything might be alright.

"Being mean? What is this, a kid's cartoon?"

"Fix it?"

If I stop being a homophobic piece of shit who treats everyone like garbage then everything might be alright.

"No!"

Connor was having his fun, but then he took it more seriously, and truly began thinking as if he was in Rich's place. Which, if he was honest, wasn't so different from his own, he might as well be telling this to Evan himself.

If I stop lashing out then everything might be alright. I'll take your advice, I'll try to be more nice. I'll turn it around, wait and see. 'Cause all that it takes is a little reinvention, it's easy to change if you give it your attention. All you gotta do is just believe you can be who you want to be.

Sincerely, me.

"Happy?"

"Well I can't just give them one email. I want to show that I was like, a good friend, you know? Without knowing how he actually felt about me."

"This is so twisted."

From: [email protected]

To: [email protected]

Dear Rich Goranski,

Yes, I also miss our talks. Stop losing your temper, just try to take deep breaths and go on walks. I'm sending pictures of the most amazing trees. You'll be obsessed with all my forest expertise.

"Pffttt." Connor tried to muffle his laughter behind his hand.

"Shut up." Evan shoved him with his shoulder.

Dude, I'm proud of you. Just keep pushing through. You're turning around, I can see.

Just believe you can be who you want to be.

Sincerely, me.

Evan's phone began buzzing just as he finished typing, and he pulled it out to check.

Connor told himself he shouldn't look at the screen, but he did so anyway. Several missed calls from his mom, and now Jenna was texting him.

'We r going for yogurt, wanna join?'

"I think what we have is good for now. You don't mind if I leave, do you?" The blond turned to look at the other, trying to gauge his expression.

Connor's mood had soured a bit, but he shrugged carelessly.

"Nah, go ahead."

"Maybe I can ask if you can come with to FroYo's?"

"I'd rather drink lighter fluid, but thanks."

Evan rubbed the back of his neck, and composed a feeble smile.

"Alright. So...see you on Friday, after school?"

Connor smiled a bit too.

"You better, Hansen."

"Thank you for all your help." Evan suddenly hugged him again, and then planted a kiss on his cheek, chuckling as he left a flustered Connor behind.

"Catch you later, alligator!" He said as he left through the door.

"That is so damn corny," Connor called out to him, but he was grinning as he traced his hand along his cheek, where Evan's lips had been.