Disclaimer: Do I even need to say it? Seriously.

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Kristen had always secretly loved doing what she wanted, rather than what Massie wanted her to do. On the few occasions when Massie's thoughts on Kristen's actions had agreed with Kristen's thoughts, she'd always felt like jumping for joy.

On the occasions when they didn't match up (which was most of the time), it always felt to Kristen like she was losing a part of herself. Some days, she would stare in the mirror and not be able to find herself in the reflection. All that was there was an image of some girl with too much makeup on and borrowed designer clothes, wearing a superior look on her face despite not having anything to feel superior about. Kristen Gregory was nowhere to be found. But Kristen wasn't sure that she'd be able to recognize herself even if she was there. She'd been gone for so long, it would be like trying to find a stranger in a sea of people.

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Kristen was in her room putting on her makeup one morning before school, putting on her black eyeliner with a practiced hand. She swept on her mascara, a double coat for each eye. Then she carefully spread lip gloss over her lips until they shined brightly.

She stepped back and went to go put her gloss in her purse, ignoring the voice urging her to go wash all the makeup off and just put a very small amount on.

Kristen wished she could follow the voice's advice, but this makeup was what Massie wanted. Massie had gone from being pretty controlling to absolutely running the lives of her friends over the years. She'd gotten over-the-top bitchy, too. If you didn't follow her every word, Massie would kick you out of the Pretty Committee.

Pretty Committee. Kristen hated the name. It made her sound so artificial. Wasn't Kristen Gregory more than just some pretty doll that people could stare at?

As she felt all the makeup that was caked on her face more than ever, Kristen suddenly wasn't sure.

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"Keep it up, Kristen! You're doing great!"

Kristen loved soccer practice. Much more than she liked games, she loved soccer practice. During practice, she could run around. She was free to make mistakes, and she could just enjoy playing the sport.

During games, there was too much pressure on her to kick ass and score goals so the team would win. In a way, Kristen actually hated games. She felt as if she couldn't breathe during them, like everyone's expectations had been shoved down her throat until they kept the air from passing through.

When she at soccer practice, though, it was like Kristen Gregory woke up the tiniest bit from where she had been lying dormant.

But then practice ended, and that tiny bit went back to sleep. And then she was back to just being popular-girl Kristen, who was never allowed to mess up or enjoy something that wasn't Massie-approved.

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Claire and Kristen had become good friends in the middle of the eighth grade. She had felt closer to Claire than anyone else in the Pretty Committee. Claire had understood about not being rich, and feeling like you weren't good enough, and being trapped. They had been allies in a world where money was everything that mattered.

But then at the start of ninth grade, Claire's dad got a new job that started making him a lot of money, and Kristen had lost her only ally. Claire was just as rich as the rest of the girls. And her personality changed, too- she got sort of snobby, and was much more like Massie, Alicia, and Dylan than she was like Kristen.

Still, Claire was still sort of like Kristen. She'd known what it was like to be on the outside. And so Kristen still talked with Claire more than the others.

One day Kristen asked Claire, "Do you feel like you're not yourself"

Claire's forehead wrinkled in confusion. "How can you not be yourself?" She took a sip of water and gazed curiously at Kristen, waiting for an answer.

Kristen wasn't sure how to explain it. "Like, do you ever feel like since you just do everything Massie says, you're not really being who you are?"

"No." Claire shook her head. "Do you?"

Kristen was frustrated that Claire, the one person she had hoped might get it, didn't. "I feel like Kristen Gregory doesn't even exist anymore," she said slowly.

Claire looked sympathetic, but Kristen didn't want to talk about it any more with someone who didn't experience the same thing. So she stood up and said she had to get to class early, effectively ending the conversation.

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Kristen and her eighth grade boyfriend, Chris Plovert, had broken up the summer before ninth grade. Since then, she hadn't had another boyfriend.

It wasn't like she didn't have any choices. Maybe not as many as the other Pretty Committee girls, who had the benefit of being richer and, as they often reminded her, prettier than Kristen. But still, she had a fair amount. Boys hit on her all the time. A less popular girl would have been in awe at the number of boys that wanted to go out with Kristen.

But Kristen didn't want a boyfriend that liked her because she was popular and pretty. She wanted a boyfriend that liked her for being her.

She'd had that with Chris Plovert. And years later, he was still the ideal that an admirer had to meet. Kristen had tried, but she couldn't replace Chris with anyone in her head as the perfect boyfriend.

And maybe that was why it hurt so much whenever she saw Massie and Chris kissing, or flirting, or even laughing. Maybe that was why she wanted to rip Massie's hair out of her scalp when she heard her call him Plovert instead of his real name, Chris. Maybe a million things.

Kristen wasn't sure about any of that. But she did know one thing. For the five months she had gone out with Chris, she had felt like Kristen Gregory.

And that was definitely why whenever he greeted her with, "Hey, it's Kristen Gregory!" and a kind smile in the mornings, she always wanted to say back, "Not anymore, Chris. Not anymore."

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All she'd ever asked for from Massie was the tiniest bit of freedom to do her own thing. Kristen wanted some space to breathe. She wanted so much more from her leader, but she only ever dared to ask for that one small request.

In a rush of air, it had been out, hanging in the atmosphere. Kristen had felt like someone had slowed down time. She'd been able to see everything around her. The bustle of color and laughter that was the courtyard, filled with every teenager in school now that the last class had ended. The way Olivia Ryan was hanging desperately along the edges of the group, so close to fitting in but not quite there. Alicia flirting with Claire's boyfriend, Josh Hotz, and Josh flirting back. Claire not noticing Alicia and Josh because she was gossiping with Dylan about Skye Hamilton, the junior who had just discovered she was pregnant. Chris Plovert giving Kristen an understanding look mingled with sadness, a tanned hand clutching his arm. And the owner of the tanned hand, Massie, with her glossy lips hanging open in disbelief and her eyelashes fluttering in confusion, as if she couldn't believe it.

Kristen wanted to stuff the words back into her mouth and rewind, take it all back just to make this everlasting moment go away. But at the same time, she felt her stomach flutter like it had wings. Massie wasn't yelling yet. Kristen's hope peeked out over the wall of low self-esteem and doubt it was hiding behind. There was a chance.

But then the fragile hope was being stomped on, kicked back behind the wall as Massie's eyes narrowed into slits. Because with that one motion, before she even started to speak, Kristen knew what the answer was. She would not get some alone time. She would not reclaim some of herself.

"Kristen." Massie's voice appeared calm on the outside, but just below the surface Kristen could hear the sharpness and the threatening tone, designed to send fear jolting through Kristen's nervous system, and doing the job extremely well.

"You want space?" Massie took a step closer to Kristen, letting her hand fall off of Chris, who shifted uncomfortably, not sure exactly what to do. "You can have space."

And the eyes of the hope were just barely looking over the wall, not knowing whether it was safe to come out or not. "But you'll also have any extremely shitty social life, because I'm guessing that without the Pretty Committee, you'd lose your popularity like that." Massie gave what appeared to be a sweet smile, but just like her voice, it was terrifying underneath. "Your choice."

BAM. Three more walls crashed down, effectively caging the hope in. Kristen opened her mouth, trying to find something, anything to say. She should have planned for this reaction, created some excuses and ways to apologize. But now there was only Kristen, not sure how to save her ass or if she even wanted to.

Kristen's head spun. What should I do- shit, I almost thought she would understand but instead- if I say I want space I'm free from her rules forever- but I don't have any other friends, who would I hang out with- I wish she wasn't making me choose- doesn't she understand how hard this is for me- I obey her every command and suck up to her for years and this is the treatment I get for wanting to have some air- it's not fair-

And all the sudden, Kristen was pissed off. She'd treated Massie the way a servant would treat a queen ever since the fifth grade, and she'd effectively wiped out all original thoughts of her own to become a Massie clone, because that was what the amber-eyed girl had wanted.

"No."

And with that single word, the hope discovered that the cage didn't have a roof and clambered out the top to a spot where it couldn't be ignored. Because there was always a way out of something if you just looked hard enough.

"Excuse me?" Massie squinted at Kristen like she had said she liked to eat kitchen tables.

"You heard me. No." Kristen felt dizzy in her head, but she stood firm on the ground and talked confidently to Massie. And the more she talked, the less dizzy Kristen felt and the more self-assured she got.

"I have been kissing your ass all these years because I thought popularity was worth it, and that one day you would stop being a bitch and would start treating me like an actual person. But you're never going to do that, are you, Massie Block? You are just going to suck our souls out until the day we have to separate."

Massie's mouth hung open once again. She was clearly in shock that anyone, least of all Kristen, was saying this to her. By now, everyone was watching the two in rapt silence, realizing that an epic event was happening.

"Look at me!" Kristen gestured to herself, her face filling with disgust. "I'm dressed in designer clothes that I can't afford and I don't even like! My face has more makeup on it than a Sephora counter! All because of your fucking rules on how we should look."

Kristen took a deep breath and then seemed to run out of steam. She felt energized from finally standing up to Massie, but the white-hot bolt of fury that had propelled her sentences was gone.

Softer than before, she said, "It's just not me, Mass. This girl that I've become to please you- she's not really me. And for years I've dealt with it, but I can't anymore. I can't keep forcing myself to be who you want me to be when the real me is vastly different than the mold you've cast."

Massie seemed to regain her senses. "You do realize what you're doing." Her voice no longer had a veil of serenity over it. It was all daggers and hatred.

Kristen nodded. "I'm giving the real me a chance." And then she turned around and walked away. Leaving behind the life that for so many years, she'd tried to convince herself was worth it all. Leaving behind the only people she really knew.

But despite everything she was leaving behind, Kristen felt like she was flying. She was free.

And for the first time in years, she felt entirely like herself.

She felt like Kristen Gregory.

A/N: Yay! Kristen's my favorite character, so of course I had to write a fic focusing on her. I've got more oneshots about her planned, too. =)

Please review!

xoxo,
CL