Fake It
Act 1: Heather
Chapter 1: Actress
Rating: T
Pairings: Oh-so-many. Who can count?
Summary: Heather is trying to climb her way up to the top to get her scholarship. She thinks she has everyone figured out, but could this cunning girl be getting played? And who is she really?
Disclaimer: Completely disclaimed (minus the plot) I own nothing.
/Heather/
Heather smirked at the bustling hallways. These people…they amused her. Her hair was cut short, framing her face. The haircut said: If I look prettier/ more mature/smarter than you, it's because I am. It was fitting. Sort of like how her jeans were fitting. Oh yeah. She was hot.
Her eyes zeroed in on Courtney in her innocent yellow-sweater-and-khakis-combo. What was she doing here? This school was for those with talent. But then Heather caught herself. Never underestimate the enemy...err...competition. And everyone here was her competition.
Why? Because of all the students here, they only gave out five (per grade) scholarships a year to the most prestigious performing arts college in this country. There were about 1500 students in this school. And Heather was a senior. This was her last year to get a scholarship. And her parents weren't willing to shell out that much money for what they call a school for 'over-glorified drama queens'.
The point being, that if Courtney looked innocent and talentless, she was probably trying to. After all, only five seniors got scholarships. Heather smirked. So that was what was up with that girl. As if she felt this little realization, Courtney looked over at Heather and pressed a finger to her lips with a secretive wink.
Heather smirked knowingly and pantomimed locking her lips and throwing away the key, but she made a mental note to watch out for sharks in these waters.
As if she needed any more reminders.
She took note of the characters everyone was playing in the halls. Because that was exactly what they were doing. You thought Courtney was the only one? Oh no, almost everyone here was playing a role, albeit some more convincingly than others.
As for who Heather was really…Well, she'd rather not dwell on that.
More importantly, she was trying to figure out who to take down today. There was far too much competition and it made her nervous. She scanned the halls quickly, mentally highlighting the people she had dirt on.
Geoff and Bridgette were making kissy faces at each other, but Heather happened to know that Geoff was cheating on her and that Bridgette was using him for the sole purpose of confirming her character. Well that, and, Heather observed, the great...cookies *hinthintwinkwink*. (Really, when you walk in late to class with ruffled hair, smudged makeup, a huge smile on your face, and lacking panty-lines that were most definitely there before, it was a bit obvious. Maybe too obvious. Hmm… Nice one Bridgette. Nice.) But they'd destroy themselves eventually, so Heather moved on.
Heather saw Sierra chatting up Harold (who happens to be an Axe model, thank you very much). What a slut. All Sierra did was get drunk, make-out with guys in clubs, and basically live Jersey Shore style. Pfft. Anyone who actually thought Sierra was a bookworm was insane in the membrane. For serious. She was too obvious to take down-you can't reveal something everyone already knows. And besides, Heather was pretty sure if she got to close to Sierra she'd get an STD.
Then there was Gwen. Heather rolled her eyes. Gwen acted like the artsy goth girl. But Heather had dug up some pictures of a pretty, tan, tawny-haired girl named Lisa GwendolynRose Smith who bore a striking resemblance to Gwen in a blue Anthropologie dress, Marc by Marc Jacob heels on her feet, and Gucci sunglasses on her head on Model Mayhem (with several other photos in her profile). It didn't slip by Heather's notice that Gwen had deleted the profile around the time she enrolled in this school. She probably didn't expect someone in her school to be a good enough hacker to retrieve the deleted files.
How wrong she was. Heather had taken hacking lessons from Duncan (next Bill Gates) in exchange for a date to the dance.
Honestly, Heather had always hated Gwen once she found those photos. Clearly the girl had money. She could pay to go to school. Plus, from her profile, she'd had several high-paying photographers who wanted to photograph her. Yet she wanted to do this? She wanted to ruin not-so-well-off kids' chances at making something of themselves?Heather nearly snorted in disgust as she walked up to Gwen.
"Hi Lisa." Heather said. Gwen immediately responded.
"Hi." Gwen smiled pleasantly. "But my name's Gwen."
"Didn't I say that?"
"No." Gwen closed her locker. "You said Lisa."
"Oh…why did I say that? I meant Gwen. It must be because you look a little like someone I saw online named Lisa."
"Well…I'm not." If Gwen was panicking, she didn't show it. Her amiable smile turned to a casual, breathy laugh. She flipped her long, streaky hair over her shoulder, and the smell of her hair products wafted to Heather's nose. Definitely the expensive kind.
"Clearly." Heather laughed along with her. "So what's Gwen short for anyway? Just Gwen? Gwyneth? GwendolynRose? Maybe Gwenny?" Heather put emphasis on the GwendolynRose.
"Just Gwen." Gwen looked a little anxious now, but her voice was still airy and melodic.
"You know, it's amazing what conversations can start between two people who barely interact over a little name flub. Don't you think so?"
"Yeah, pretty amazing." Gwen smiled, regaining composure. Heather didn't want this to happen. She had to take more affirmative action if she wanted to get the ball rolling.
"We should talk more often." Heather offered. It was becoming a game and Heather liked games. Mostly because she never loses.
"Totally." Gwen conceded.
"Is it okay if I give you a little beauty advice?" Heather asked, getting ready to go in for the kill. She shot a pointed glance at Gwen's hair.
"Yeah. Why not?" Gwen shrugged casually.
Heather smiled a grin that for all intents and purposes was angelic.
"I bet that your hair would be really pretty if it were…oh, I don't know, light brown? You could be like, a model or something. I'm so jealous." Heather noticed the bitter venom in her own voice and it surprised her. Oops, Heather thought, I need to be more detached.
"Why are you doing this, Heather?" Gwen hissed, voice low. For Heather, it was as good as a confession. Heather's eyes became devious and her smile turned into a malicious smirk.
"Because this is a game, and I intend to win." Was Heather's reply. She strutted off before turning back. "Bye Lisa," she mouthed as she blew Gwen a kiss.
Game on, bitches.
/Heather/
A/N: I just recently got back online, so if this is bad then…sorry? And tell me, too. Please? Kay thanks! I have an idea of where I'm going with this so it should be better than my last one. I may/may not take that down depending on lots of stuff. But this I have kindasorta mapped out already so it should be fine. My main problem with the last one was not thinking before I posted a bunch of chapters. So yeah.