A/N: I wasn't going to start this story anytime soon, but I could't stop myself from doing so. This chapter isn't going to be as long as the others would be, it'll just give you a brief idea on how Regina's life is and how she struggles. I hope you stick around for the emotional roller coaster this fic is going to be. Also, please excuse my mistakes.

Disclaimer: Sadly, I don't own Once Upon a Time or its characters.

Trigger Warning(s): None

Important Note: The chapter has been edited.

She'd been looking forward to this day for as long as she could remember. Graduation day. She'd been hyped up, excited for weeks, her mind painting picture-perfect scenarios of how the day would go, how it would be, the things that would happen, the people that would attend. But, as she stood on the packed stage, her best friends on either side, the diploma she worked so hard on earning all these years clutched in her hands, she fought back tears. They weren't tears of joy caused by the standing ovation or the sight of caps and confetti falling around her, or the muffled sound of their principal congratulating them on ending a chapter of their lives to start another, but because out of the dozen invitations she sent out, only one complied. Her mother.

This wasn't at all how she imagined this day would be. She imagined her family applauding and cheering her, she imagined her father wrapping his arms around her in a tight hug, telling her how proud he is of her — one thing he hadn't done in a long time, another he hadn't done ever.

"Regina, are you okay?"

She was snapped out of her trance by her friend's voice. It was barely audible amongst the noises in the hall, but she heard it and nodded in response, pursed her lips momentarily then offered her a small smile of reassurance. "I'm okay, just tired. It's been a long day, Emma," she lied, and her friend bought it, just as everyone else did. Nothing new, nothing surprising.

It was crazy how much pain one forced smile could hide, scary, really.

Regina licked her lips and gave a sniffle that was suppressed by the sound of music playing in the background. Not that anyone would've cared if they heard anything or think much of it, they'd assume she was too happy, that those tears were of pure joy and pride, when in reality, they were anything but that. She stepped down the stage and walked, walked, and walked, passing by the other students that were embraced by their loved ones, hugging and kissing them, congratulating them with beautiful bouquets of flowers, and she walked, only stopping near the exit, greeted by the sight of her mother, cradling a small, simple bouquet of her own with a sympathetic smile on her face.

"Look at you," Cora said in awe, handing over the flowers. "You look beautiful, sweetheart."

"Wh—where's everyone else?" Regina asked, though she knew the answer to her own question, it was crystal clear. They weren't here.

"Aunt Eva had to go back home, Mary Margaret's fever spiked again."

Regina nodded.

"Belle was here with Gideon, but he started getting fussy, so they left."

She nodded again, trying her best to be understanding.

"Milah came with Neal, too, but—"

"Let me guess," Regina interrupted with a light scoff. "He got bored and started fussing, too?"

Cora frowned but nodded wordlessly.

"Dad?" Regina croaked.

"He…he called me before the ceremony began and told me that he was leaving with Zelena. She was too bored and wouldn't sit still, so he's taken her to the mall."

Regina chuckled bitterly. Of course, it was always about Zelena, even today. "It's my graduation and he decided to take her to the mall. Why, oh why was I stupid enough to expect this day to be different than any other day?" she huffed, shook her head and quickly wiped away the tear that slipped.

"Regina—"

"I just wanna go home."

Cora sighed and nodded, and Regina was grateful she didn't argue or attempt to explain; there was no further explanation needed, it was obvious, she mattered less. She would always matter less. Zelena was the apple of their father's eye, she was nothing.

She removed her cap and tossed it in the back with her diploma, then climbed into the passenger's seat and leaned to the side against the window, quietly staring out of it. She remained in the same position throughout the entire ride back home, merely nodding or shaking her head to her mother's questions, something about having dinner with just the two of them and if she already had plans for an afterparty with her friends. She didn't, but she didn't want to go out, either.

She worked so hard to get these invitations, knowing they wouldn't be allowed in without them, she skipped classes, stayed after school, and even went back to get them. And out of a dozen, only one showed up. How can life be so cruel?

Her mind played the earlier events— how her day started with her returning home after getting her makeup done at Emma's following their final rehearsal. How, for the first time in a very long time, she stood in front of the mirror and admired herself, how she looked and actually thought well of herself. She recalled discreetly slipping into her father's bedroom as he took his daily afternoon nap, leaving him an invitation she knew he wouldn't accept, and then he called her as they got ready to line up and get on the stage, asking about which entrance he should walk through, and she was over the moon. But her happiness didn't last long, it never did.

When they arrived home, she went straight up to her bedroom and locked herself in. She removed her graduation gown, neatly folded it and hid it at the very back of her closet, as well as the short, pink dress she wore underneath, wanting nothing to do with today and its reminders. It only rubbed salt to the wounds. She wiped her face clean of makeup, slipped on her pajamas, then curled in bed with her earphones on, blocking the world out and listening to her favorites songs, sung by her favorite artist, Kathleen Locksley.

Kathleen made things better, even if just for a brief moment, she made her forget all the awful things she'd go through, the pain she felt, the demons that clawed at the back of her mind, whispering reminders of how useless she was, how much of a burden she was to everyone around. For a moment, Kathleen and her songs made her feel genuinely happy.