There's a reason behind Chloe's constant bullying. Many reasons, actually. She uses these as a shield, to say that cruelty is a form of protection. She tries not to think of how her mother, who was full of love and kindness and told Chloe to always be soft and kind, would be disappointed in her.

But her mother's gone, and, well, the reasons were all true.

Don't get close to people. They will use you.

Everyone will love the mask you put up. They will never love the true you.

If they already hate you, it won't feel like betrayal when they look at you in disgust since you're not normal.

Chloe would blame these reasons for being alone, but knows that it's her fault. Besides, they did their job and kept her safe.

(She was eight years old and her mother was taking her to the park for the first time. She made a friend immediately and was overjoyed. As much as she liked playing with Adrien, she wanted to be with other people too. It was a year later that she overheard the mother telling her daughter to suck up to Chloe, act like their friends, and steal any jewelry she finds. They don't meet again. Chloe experienced heartbreak at the age of nine.)

But sometimes, she remembers her mother's words and feels as though she betrayed her. Feels as though she disappointed her. Most nights she can ignore it, distract herself with other thoughts. Some nights, the thought, "She would hate the person you've become" echo in her head until she sees the sun begin to rise.

(Her father used to let her play in his office. He'd put her in his lap and answer any questions she had from reading the papers on his desk. She pretended to be working, pretended to be a mayor just like her father, and her father laughed and smiled as her mother wandered in to take pictures. He told her to get out and let her leave when she walked in a few months after her mother died. The only times she was really with him was when they went to public events and galas where she put on the mask of a loved child with more than she could ever want. The media loves it. They all hate the Chloe who is scared, and lonely, and wants to run away. She hasn't been true to herself in years.)

Those nights were the worst, leaving her with dark bags under her eyes and vision fuzzy with exhaustion. Her hands would shake as she tried to apply foundation and concealer and eyeshadow to seem more awake, more alive, but her eyes look more hollow than ever before. She sets down her makeup brush and struggles to breathe around the weight that sits on her chest.

(She hates her cruelty, but it's the best defense she has. Every time she spits out insults like acid, her throat is raw and burning. Chloe has been their classmate for years. They've all been around each other long enough for her to know what hurts them to most. She picks out these insecurities and draws them out. Alya almost slaps her once. She had stolen and insulted Marinette's sketchbook, filled with gorgeous drawings and designs she could never hope to match, and she tore down all her work like nothing. Some days she wishes Alya had hit her, that Marinette didn't stop her. The hate and rage in their eyes burns her, but at least she will know what it feels like if they ever find out about her wrongness . At least then, she can brush it off. It would be easy after years of experience.)

These were things that Chloe kept from everyone, secrets locked deep inside her in hopes that no one would ever find them. But sometimes, like that day, that Chloe felt as though Sabrina knew.

It starts as it always does: Sabrina waiting by the front door, leaning against the wall as Chloe grabs her backpack and straightens her cardigan. The world looks hazy from her eyes, soft colors blurring into each other and got worse as she blinked. She struggles to keep her eyes open, forcing them to look alert, but Sabrina just smiles understandingly. Even with the layers of makeup on her face, Chloe feels naked under her gaze.

"Ready for school?" she asks once Chloe reaches her.

Her voice is caught in her throat, so all Chloe can do is nod with stiff movements.

Sabrina observes her carefully for a moment, before she tilts her head and asks, "Are you okay? Did you get enough sleep last night?"

Sudden pushes the words off her tongue. "I'm fine. I'm just tired today."Though Sabrina doesn't seem to believe it, she lets it go and waits for Chloe to leave first. As she does, she feels her heart hammering in her chest, paranoia insisting that Sabrina knew how she couldn't sleep, crying for her dead mother, while the dark parts of her mind whisper, "She wouldn't want you to be her daughter if she saw who you are now." And though Chloe desperately tries to convince herself that her mother loved her, and how she would be different if her mother was still alive, her heart to shakes and fractures.

The feeling makes her wonder if there was any part of her heart that was still left to break and shatter like fragile glass. She finds it hard to believe that there are.

It was only a matter of time before those parts of her heart broke as well.

She walks past the limo that day, telling the driver she wanted to walk to school. Though surprised, the driver nods and respectfully backs away. Sabrina follows loyally without question.

Chloe is silent as she walks, barely processing anything. The details of the world blurred together into blobs of color, and she could feel herself beginning to stumble. Every movement was difficult, each limb felt like lead. But the thought of what the others thought of the scene the day before, of them figuring out what had chased her from the school terrified her. The fear gave her the energy to keep going, to put on a mask, to act as though nothing happened.

The thought of facing everyone made her feel sick, nausea rolling in her stomach. Would they whisper and wonder? Glare and hiss insults? Or would they look at her with faked sympathy? She finds it hard to believe anyone would feel bad for her, or go through to effort to fake it. Perhaps they would roll their eyes, saying, "It was just for attention. Just like everything else she's ever done." It was mostly true. Cries for help, trying to bring attention to problems she doesn't know how to solve. Trying to get someone to care because asking for help was weakness and well.

Her father made sure to teach her that weakness meant failure.

Thoughts of her father come to mind then; a series of does he still care for me? or am I a pawn of his politics? and wondering when he stopped being Papa! and turned into Sir and Father. When had he become the Mayor and when did he stop being her father? Her mother was the glue that held them together and without her they were falling apart-

Chloe blinks in surprise as Sabrina pull her back, body lurching from the sudden force. She forces her eyes to focus and realizes she was about to walk in front of a speeding bus. Her heart beat painfully in her chest as she turned to look at Sabrina with wide eyes.

For a long moment, they stare at each other, frozen in shock, until Sabrina lets out a shaky breath and slowly lets go of Chloe.

Though thankful that Sabrina was there to stop her, Chloe can't help but wonder if she would have kept walking anyways. Even if she was aware of the bus.

Yes , she thinks. I would have kept going.

It scares her to know how little she cares for her life. It is better to not think about it, she decides, and pushes it out of her mind. The haze takes over and when the cars stop, she walks forward with unfocused eyes.

Part of her hopes Sabrina will let her get hit next buries that part of her underneath gold and marble and steel, hoping it is enough to keep it at bay.

When the school looms above them, Chloe lifts her head and walks with the confidence of a queen, desperately hoping that it is enough to cover up the stiffness of her movements and the paleness of her face. She hopes the glitter and glamor of her clothes are enough to blind people from the truth. The sign of wealth will stop them.

After all, the rich are never unhappy.

Chloe wonders if there was a way she could buy happiness and confidence.

If there was, then maybe there was a way to buy back the life of her mother.