Dollface burst through the worn screen door of the laundromat and panted, having run from the outer edges of the campsite to the centralized laundry house near the higher dollar cabins.

"Alright," She said, "Where to start?"

Dollface walked up and down the aisles of washers and dryers, trying to remember which one she'd loaded last night. White tiles spattered with random red, yellow, blue and green sections passed under her, head on a swivel for something to jog her memory.

She stopped, and turned to where she was level with an anthro clown-washing machine painted on the side wall, framed with checkerboards and stars.

Dollface made intense eye contact while glaring down the mural and opened the top loading dryer, digging around the drum. She distinctly remembered making uncomfortable eye contact with the ugly mural while dumping wet clothes into the dryer, meaning that she'd remember what she was doing better if she glared it down.

Without losing eye contact, Dollface bent to the side and grabbed an empty laundry basket, dumped a load into it, and scowled one last time at the mural.

Dropping the comical expression as she turned, she was startled by the girl standing next to her. The laundry basket hit the floor, clothing spilling everywhere.

"Chill," A hijabi Dollface had seen around campus growled, "You're female."

"To be honest, I've never really been sure, but still," Dollface had dropped to her knees, eyes at her hands as she scrambled to retrieve her clothes, "I don't wanna be rude-"

She saw the strap of a binder and shoved it into the laundry basket.

"Habibi-" The girl Dollface recognized as Cleo deNial, one of the richest students on campus, held up a bejeweled hand to her chin in a poised manner, "Calm down, it's not as restrictive as people make it out to b- Wait, what are you doing?"

"Hey!" Cleo snapped, snatching something from the basket, "That's my stuff!"

Dollface cowered back, looking up at where the petite girl in a fake feather trimmed silk bathrobe snapped at her. Cleo held up a gold and blue scarf to the harsh lights overhead.

"What the hell?!" The girl crumpled the scarf in her hand, "This is all my stuff!"

"I-I-I'm sorry!" Dollface had heard of Cleo's wrath from Markus and Gaz via locker room gossip, with Markus in a closed-off bathroom stall.

"Ok, that's going too far!" Cleo said, "No one likes a thief!"

She slowly rose to her feet, shaking, "I-I'm Dollface. I didn't mean t'take yer stuff…"

According to Gaz, it was better to introduce herself and get on Cleo deNial's good side before getting on her bad one.

"Who cares!" Cleo wrapped her random braid mixed in with her loose hair that was woven with gold thread and blue highlights absently around her finger.

Dollface, standing here, realized that St. Godiva's reigning Queen of Mean was almost eye-level to her without the usual gold platform sandals.

She blushed at this realization as Cleo began to throw clothing in the air.

"Mine, mine, mine, ew!" She pulled out a Freddy Fazbear's teeshirt Dollface had cut into a crop top and gagged, "You're stuff's mixed in with mine!"

"I'm so sorry! I was really tired last night an'must notta'been payin' attention!"

"Well start paying attention better, Fazbear!" Cleo snapped, "Because I don't want your tasteless-"

Cleo stopped, face falling. She turned to Dollface, "O-M-G."

"Oh no, what's wrong, did I shrink yer uniform?"

Cleo grinned like a cat who'd raided a pet shop of all its rodents, "Oh my Ra! This is too perfect!"

Dollface was nervously searching the room for an escape with her eyes, standing stock still.

"You're Freddy Fazbear, aren't you?" Cleo slunk even closer, pushing the laundry basket away with her foot, not even looking down at it.

Dollface watched it slide against the wall and thump against the nearest washing machine aisle, the hair on the back of her neck rising.

Cleo leaned into her face, forcing Dollface to study its symmetry, at the perfectly applied Kohl and blue-purple eyeshadow. It was like Cleo's eyes were glowing

In an attempt to avoid eye contact and not get caught, Dollface found a patch of what looked like acne scars near Cleo's eye, too pocked to cover with her warm brown foundation.

Cleo's lips were dark crimson and full.

Dollface tried not to whimper, "P-Please don't tell."

"Why not?" Cleo leered, "Are you ashamed? A phony? I'm the heiress of the deNial fortune, and you live in a shack with Markus the Thing."

Dollface leaned back, nose to nose with Cleo and mumbled, "He's not a 'thing', he's a Shoggoth..."

Cleo was wearing a lot of expensive perfume. It smelled good, but was overwhelming to Dollface this early in the morning.

"You go out every night to shake ass for babies on a stage. Clawd's got higher standards, and he likes roadkill!" Cleo snickered, face pulling taught. Everything on Cleo looked strange, like it was too small and thin for her bones, "Oh my Ra, that must be miserable."

"There it is again."

"There's what again?"

Dollface looked away, "Nuthin'. I'm sorry."

Cleo's personality was similar to Cousin Missy, but she had the riches and the looks to back it up, while Missy was pimply, greasy and poorly dressed, all topped off with cheap red box dye and a double-wide trailer on the other side of town. Dollface wouldn't hesitate to wrestle Prissy Missy into submission, but she wouldn't dare even tease Cleo.

"Look, I've seen you ogle my ghoulfriend Draculaura. It's not happening. She'd got a boyfriend and even if she didn't, you wouldn't even be considered worthy of shining her shoes."

"'Ghoulfriend'?"

Cleo snarled.

"Sorry, I-I didn't mean it." Dollface was shaking, "At least, not like t-"

"It doesn't matter. You keep it up and you'll be toast, got it?" Cleo threatened, "Neither of you need that!"

"Need wha-"

"One last thing before I claim what's mine-" Cleo cut off Dollface.

Dollface nodded affirmatively, still blushing.

What was up with her?

She'd always liked girls quite a bit but ever since coming here she'd become a girl-crazy ninny!

"What's the deal with you and Regina?"

"Reggie?" Dollface asked, relieved. She was expecting something worse, like another outing or some sort of humiliating favor, "Why you askin'?"

"Because, dear Dollface, she yelled your name, then denied she even knew you."

Dollface stepped back, "I'd expect that- she's m'sister after all."

Cleo also took a step back, shoulders beginning to bounce as she grinned. The grin opened wide as she threw her head back and laughed, "Are you kidding me? You? Regina's the heir to the Phantomhive empire! You're a- you're a-"

"Bumpkin?" Dollface asked helpfully.

"-A barely literate bumpkin!" Cleo howled, "She's from England, you're from Nowheresville, Arkansas!"

"'Zurruh, actually," Dollface said, looking at her boots.

Cleo was still laughing at Dollface. Dollface's gears were turning.

"If I was associated with you, I'd deny it too, ya liar!" Cleo laughed, "Wait, STOP-"

Dollface pushed past Cleo with the laundry basket and scooped up the thrown clothes, dropping them in the basket on her hip.

Dollface ran out a side door and down the cobblestone path, Cleo screaming and cursing her back.

Dollface dropped the basket on the cleaned floor of the cabin, slamming the door shut and panting.