Disclaimer: I don't own Victorious.

(Cat's POV)

I skipped back to my spot when I was done with the singing.

"Very nice, Cat. Next up, Tori Vega." Kevin said.

Kevin was giving us the weekly singing test for his class. I don't mind doing it, who doesn't like singing?

Tori sang good as usual, then a few more people went before class was dismissed.

I ran to my locker, nearly tripping in my purple heels with the straps.

"Slow down, Cat!" Beck slowed my down my grabbing my arm, making me nearly slip forward.

"Whoa!" I squealed, "I have to get to my locker! My next class is all the way across the school!"

He let go, "See you at lunch, kid!" He laughed.

I ran to my locker, and started to do the combination, when two girls in tight skirts and tank tops walked up to me. I recognized them from my last class.

"Nice singing in class, Cat." They said, high fiving each other, then putting their hands on their hips.

"Thanks!" I said, and opened my locker.

"It's called sarcasm, freak."

"W-what?" I studdered, confused.

"We're telling you that you're a bad singer!" The tall girl with brunette curly (obviously curled with an iron) snapped at me, and rolled her eyes, "Didn't know you were stupid, too."

My jaw dropped, and I clenched my books, "I'm not a bad singer!" I defended myself.

"Says who?" She replied, placing her hand back on her hip.

"Uh." No one every actually told me I wasn't a bad singer.

"Yeah. That's what I though." She smirked, and walked away with her friend.

Tears started to roll down my eyes as soon as they left, and I dropped my books on the floor and slammed my locker shut. I ran down the hallway with my hands covering my face.

"Cat?" I heard Beck's voice ask, worried, as I ran still ran down the hall.

He didn't follow, and I didn't want him too.

I ran out the school doors, and I think I saw Tori at the corner of my eye, which was now red and wet from my tears.

"Cat! What's wrong?" Tori shouted to me, "Cat!"

I ran around the corner and found a bench to sit on. I sat on it with my knees to my stomach, and I wrapped my arms around them.

I sniffled, and wiped my tears. Why am I so emotional? I can't help it. I sighed, and took a deep breath.

I hated those girls, but what if they were right?

No one compliments on my singing, or my piano playing, or trumpet playing, or harmonica playing.

Am I really terrible at it? I have to be. That's why they don't tell me I do a good job. Because I'm not good at it.

I wiped another tear, and got up, and entered the school through one of the side doors.

I walked into the room where I keep my instruments, and turned on the light. The room was empty.

I walked over to where my harmonica was, on the case on a shelf. It say's 'Cat Valentine' on it. I took it out of the case, and blew into it, making a sound that I thought was amazing, but probably terrible to everyone else.

I dropped it onto the ground, and stepped on it with my heel, giving it a good dent.

I picked it up, and walked over to the window to throw it out. I threw it pretty far, it landed on the sidewalk, and one of the screws came out, making it fall apart.

I walked across the room and picked up my trumpet case, and unlocked it.

I picked up my shiny trumpet out of the case. I thought I played well. My mom said she loved when I played.

Then I got angry. Am I even listening to myself? I just said my mom likes my music. I'm a dork, who can't play music. Mom always say they like their children's music, even when they can't play a single note right. I got so angry, I threw it onto the ground, making it make a noise that didn't sound pretty.

"UGH!" I shouted, and stomped hard onto it, multiple times.

"Cat?" I heard through the door.

André.