"Self-pity is easily the most destructive of the non-pharmaceutical narcotics; it is addictive, gives momentary pleasure and separates victim from reality." - John Gardner

"Intolerance is the virtue of not accepting or tolerating evil. There is nothing worse for tolerance to be preached as if it is something holy, when in reality, it is one of the worst sins ever - a form of serious evil." - Unknown

From the initial incident all the way to the present moment, Max could already assume it to be Nathan or Victoria. Both have the potential to be this cruel to Kate and get away with it without a scratch, it was simply a matter of deducing who.

So Max thought about every possibility that the two could've used to be at the right place at the right time. All the scenarios, all the possibilities, every chance and logical outcome. And she clung so tightly to the saving grace of this whole mess: that Kate was with her in her dorm room having a sleepover. If Marsh had not accepted her offer, and stayed in her little dark shell—

A shake of the head.

Focus. Nathan, or Victoria—?

While Max suspected Nathan of committing the act, it seemed to be too much trouble for the end result. He may be the Prescott's heir and Club President of the Internationale, but he was still a Blackwell student, which meant he wasn't able to go around to places where he wasn't supposed to with impunity. Even if he'd gone to the girl's bathroom that one time, Max couldn't be sure if it was an outlier of his actions or if he regularly violated proper social etiquette. The ominous graffiti painted on Marsh's dorm wall rung her suspicions however, for those reckless brushstrokes reminded her of Nathan, they were too perfectly designed for his brash, erratic nature. Regardless, he'd need an excuse or some way of approach that didn't rouse the suspicions of any of the female students in the dorm building, which was near impossible. Max deduced that Nathan was unable to be remotely stealthy if her encounters with him were anything to go by, and thus couldn't have vandalized Kate's room.

That left Victoria.

While both had the motive to carry out the act, only Victoria had the means to achieve it. Excluding the fact that both of Max's suspects were rich beyond measure, Victoria had the advantage of living in the dorm and being on the same floor as Kate; by all means Chase could simply wait until Kate left her room, pick the lock of the door and then tear the ever-loving shit out of the place, and leave the smaller blonde to wallow in the remains. Yet there was a problem that stuck out like a sore thumb, the figurative thorn stuck in the side of Max's conclusions.

Victoria could not have killed Kate's bunny, Alice.

Sure, it was a bit of a stretch, as this was based solely on Max's interpretation of Victoria, and not the Victoria that truly existed. Max's imagination had conjured many things when thinking of the cold-hearted Queen of Blackwell, many things indeed—but not a murderer. This would not discredit how the pixie blonde had treated both Max and Kate for a good two months, but something was telling Max that Victoria had not done it. She didn't like trusting her emotions to make a judgement of someone in most cases, but with this, she found it to be different, an exception to the rule. Thoughts about their intervention on Tuesday brought with them a light of recognition, casting doubts to who Victoria was as a person to Max. Even then, it didn't excuse that she thought Chase had something to do with what happened.

What if it was them both, together? What if it was a message from the both of them? Victoria could have easily let Nathan slip into the dorm building under the right circumstances.

What if it wasn't them? What if it was someone else?

Max couldn't imagine anyone else who'd hold such vengeance against Kate, but there were too many unknowns to tell.

A lengthy talk with the detachment of Blackwell Security guards allowed Max to assure them that Kate wouldn't do anything rash; Caulfield having ushered the blonde back to her room and thereafter promising Marsh that she'd help out with any work that would be missed. Kate was in no position to go to class, not with how broken she looked after the tears had stopped flowing. Max didn't leave her until she was promised that her friend wouldn't wander off to God-knows-where and hurt herself. Caulfield didn't want to risk the chance of losing Kate, no matter how small or ridiculous that chance was.

Isn't so small and ridiculous anymore.

The brunette had gotten a copy of Kate's schedule from the backpack Kate barely used, as it would make her efforts to help the blonde that much easier. From there she'd gone to Kate's classes and talked to the teachers about the situation. Even with her awkwardness, the news that spread through the school after the incident did most the talking for her, and the teachers were understanding in Max's efforts.

It is now in the last class for this Wednesday, photography class, that she takes her seat. Max felt herself slump from the weight of social interactions, of which she'd had one too many in her opinion. Yet, if it meant that Kate could still get through this torment with minimal effect, then Max considered it a small victory. All that was left to do was ask Jefferson about whatever assignment he might pull from his sleeve like a sort of trump card.

Class starts, and Jefferson begins the theatrics about some in-class worksheet they had to complete. It was an oddity to the students, as it was rare for them to be given work that was due in one class period, they'd become so used to Jefferson's insistence of project-based assessments since the start of the semester. Whatever Max's inspiration was planning, it must be something grand, busywork was merely the filler for the time he needed.

This worksheet was tedious and all, but what curved everyone was that it was to be worked on with their assigned partners from yesterday.

"Caulfield."

"Victoria."

It was civil, and Max wasn't going to complain about how Chase was not insulting her attire in the first thirty seconds like many a time before. The pixie blonde took her spot next to Max's seat, facing her chair towards the brunette and silently going about the first few questions. Looking to the sheet, it was asking them some meaningless inquiries to describe the process of how they'd achieve their goal of completing their assignment, and other wonderfully vague questions of the sort. Max heaved a sigh, shoving the paper away and tucking her lone mechanical pencil in her jeans pocket.

"What, are you not going to do it?" Victoria whispered.

Max looked to Victoria and merely shrugged, "I can't focus on this, I've got other things on my mind right now."

Max appreciated that despite her bitchy exterior, Victoria was at least perceptive enough to know of the stress and returned back to her worksheet with a pensive look.

"I see."

"I'm still wondering who did it, you know."

Victoria then snapped her gaze up and looked to Max with that scowl, the kind she associated with Chase getting defensive and cranky as all hell. She probably shouldn't have said that so slyly.

"What, you think I did it?" Victoria hissed, eyes glancing to the class to make sure no one was paying too much attention to them.

Max hesitated, eyes darting from the page to the waiting blonde and back again.

"I didn't mean to sound accusing, but you obviously hate her for some reason. I wouldn't put it past you."

The royal blonde snickered spitefully, "Oh, now that's just fucking cute."

A scoff, "Can you blame me? You've given Kate so much shit for the past two months, and now you act all like, I'm the victim, woe is me, when someone calls you out on it."

"Fuck off, Caulfield. I might be cold-hearted, but I sure as hell wouldn't waste my time with trashing that bible-lover's room."

"Well, if it wasn't you, then who did it?"

A pause, Victoria had forgotten about her work and was actively thinking about who could possibly hate Kate enough to sack the girl's room like that. Max felt bold, and she dared to pressure the Queen.

"Y'know, she told me about what happened. At the party."

Victoria's eyes, with their sharp shade of emerald-green, locked onto Max's cobalt-blue counterparts as Caulfield continued, "She didn't place any names, but I'm sure that you saw what happened, didn't you?"

A flippant smirk snaked its way across the Queen's lips, "Would you think any better of me if I said no?"

At that sarcastic dissuasion, Max near lunged from her seat, visibly bristling, and Victoria was taken by surprise at the sheer amount of hatred that was suddenly directed at her. Chase tensed, for Max looked ready to tear her a new one right in front of the whole class, but Caulfield held herself at the last moment. The brunette deflated, sinking back into the black plastic chair and growling her wrath at the homework instead. A turmoil brewed beneath her brows.

"The hell was that about?" Victoria whispered, mostly to ease herself of the tension.

"It's just...I invited Kate to a sleepover last night. She opened up to me about what happened to her, and it didn't go well. She...she broke down, I felt so bad for her because I know that she doesn't deserve any of the shit people are saying about her," Max leaned forward, elbows resting on the desk, closer to Victoria, "and I knew that she needed someone to be there for her, the same way that she'd been there for me."

Edging closer, Max shortened the distance separating the two of them. Victoria didn't pull away, mostly confused by Max's words, "So when she finds out this morning that someone's fucked up her room, she's hurting even more than before—Victoria, I had to drag her back to my room and make her promise she wouldn't leave, it was so bad."

Max was staring into her again, and Chase didn't know what to think of it.

"If you didn't do it, then who else could it have been?" the brunette asked, cold and calculated.

There was that underlying premise, delivered in every syllable that beckoned the blonde to consider her next choice of words. Glancing to the class, finding that no one was paying attention to either of them, she huffed and locked her gaze to Max again, "I don't know. But if there's one thing that I am sure of, it's that I didn't do it."

"Then prove it."

"Are you fucking—?" Victoria silently blurted.

Crossing her arms, Max leaned back in her mighty pedestal, daring the Queen to try and justify herself. Caulfield's tone reflected her haughty demand.

"After class, you go with me, and you apologize to her. If not for trashing her room, then for being an absolute bitch to her for no reason. It's the least you can do."

"I don't give her shit for no reason, Caulfield."

"Excuse me, Max, Victoria?"

The classroom dimmed in conversation, the duo simultaneously jerked at their names being called, feeling their cheeks flush with embarrassment as Jefferson called them out, and the rest of the class looked to them.

"You both seem to have something more important than whatever I could come up with, would you mind sharing it with the rest of us?" their teacher barbed. He must've noticed their lively discussion.

They glanced to each other, then back to Jefferson.

"Sorry, Mr. Jefferson, but it's a bit personal. I hope you understand."

A raise of the eyebrows told them he didn't believe the excuse Victoria threw his way, but he conceded, "Alright, I understand. I'd appreciate it however, if you two could delegate your time to this assignment, as it's due in the next twenty minutes," he raised his voice to address everyone on the last bit, "if you do not finish this work in that time, I'm more than willing to stay after class and wait for you," he offered, knowing no one wanted to stay after class.

Like a cue, the rush of conversations drowned out whatever Jefferson had left to say, leaving Victoria and Max to rush their answers onto their papers post-haste. A single glance to each other spoke of meeting after class, there were too many eyes and ears for them to talk about this in the open.

"Wait, I thought you were out here when it happened?"

"I was in the main building, had a meeting with my advisor over post-graduation opportunities."

"Oh. I see."

The entrance to the second-floor dorms clicked itself into place as the two girls walked down the hall. Their gait was rushed, footsteps thudded on the carpet floor as they pressed forward past the small hallway leading to the bathroom and stopping upon Max's dorm room. Victoria looked ready to enter and face the music, but Max hesitated with her hand on the door.

"Maxine? Come on, let's get this over with."

With steeled blue eyes, Max looked to Chase.

"Before we do this, I want a promise from you."

Victoria looked incredulous, "Oh hell no, that's not how this works—"

"I don't want you getting all bitchy to her," Max interrupted, impeding the girl's next protest with a glare, "You promise me."

"I cannot control the flow of human emotions, Maxine."

"Don't call me Maxine, either. It's Max."

A sigh, then, "Look, I get that you, her, and I have been at odds, but maybe you should realize that I just don't care about her like you do. I don't even know if me apologizing will make anything better—better yet, I didn't even fucking do anything to her—"

Max bristled, Victoria backtracked, "Okay, fine, I did do some things, but I am not apologizing for something I didn't do."

"She'll forgive you, even after all you've done," the brunette noted grimly, "I know it."

Emerald eyes narrowed at the remark, "And how is that supposed to assure me?"

"It's what anyone would want, forgiveness," Max looked to her door disconsolately, "We both know what you did was horrible, so yeah, I'm pretty sure you have a smidgen of guilt in there."

"I'm not a monster, Maxine," came the defensive reply.

"It's Max, never Maxine."

Foregoing the inevitable, Max twisted the knob, and they walked in; and Caulfield looked to the frail blonde sitting crisscrossed on her couch, watching that gaze shift from hollow joy to worry as Kate saw the both of them enter. Victoria placed herself on the edge of Max's bed, right leg crossed over the other, ruffling the sleeves of her black cashmere and idly commenting how cold it was in the room. Max situated herself on the couch next to Kate, giving a welcome smile and feeling warm about how Kate was doing better, if only slightly.

Now, the elephant in the room.

"So, uhm...Max?"

A clearing of the throat, "Yeah, um, Victoria's here with us because she wanted to say something to you—," Max looked to Victoria with as much seriousness she could muster and hoped to God that the girl would be nice for once, "—isn't that right, Victoria?"

Chase smiled, innocently, and Max suddenly felt a weight in her chest.

"You're right, Maxine."

It was wrong, that wasn't the right response and Chase knew it; and Max tried to cut her off, but Victoria was quicker—

"You think it's me that destroyed your room, don't you, Kate?"

"Now hold on—!"

"Let her speak for herself, Caulfield," the Queen snapped. Driven by instinctual fear, Max instantly shut her mouth, cowed and ashamed.

Hazel eyes looked on in confusion, "I don't—that's not what I—"

"You think it was me." It wasn't a question, nor a statement. It was a demand.

A pause came, then, very quietly, "…yes."

"Then, in that case, I'm not sorry for you."

Oh for fuck's sake—

In a second, Max was up and moving to the queen, ready to tear her from her impromptu throne.

"Are you kidding me Vic—!"

"Max, don't."

It was unexpected, the sudden change in pitch that was normally so quiet and kind, it was unusual when heard as a voice of iron. Max froze, and turned to see Kate, now on the brink of tears but determined. With a pointed glare to the Queen to quit her bullshit, Max settled in her wooden desk chair, keeping an eye on the two blondes before her.

"My oh my, I'm actually quite surprised, Marsh," the Queen chuckled, amused.

"Why is that, Victoria?" Kate suspiciously asked.

"I was under the impression that Caulfield here was a sort of lapdog for you: you know, all trying to keep you safe and whatnot," she barbed, smirking.

The lapdog growled. Victoria half-heartedly raised her hands in a mock surrender.

"I'm just saying, it seems like she's trying to keep you all safe and sound, almost like you asked her to be your personal bodyguard," a chuckle, airy and sarcastic, filled the room with its bittersweet tune.

Kate didn't waver, but her eyes remained glassy, they trembled in tangent with her heart as she steadied herself.

"Then you weren't the one who destroyed my room."

"Wow, thank you for noticing. I was starting to wonder if someone would realize I'm not that heartless."

Max scowled, grumbling to herself but still eyeing Chase like an intruder that should not have been invited.

This was such a goddamn mistake.

"It still doesn't excuse you from what you've done to me, to us."

Envy sat there on her mattress throne, with her half-lidded eyes, tilting her head back ever so slightly and speaking to the peasants before her, "You know what, Kate? You're right, I should apologize."

Neither Kate nor Max were expecting such, if their blank stares were anything to go by.

"I'll apologize to you, right now. But on one condition."

Victoria glanced sidelong to Max, and not taking her eyes away from Caulfield, spoke with finality, "If you can make me say it without your lapdog breathing down my neck, then I'll do it."

"Why would—? Max deserves an apology just as much as I do," Kait muttered, confused.

"I'm sorry, what was that? I couldn't hear you over there."

A slight frown, then, louder this time, "I said, Max deserves an apology from you too—"

"Look, can you please speak up?" Chase snickered over her, "God, as if you could make your voice any quieter."

"Victoria, quit messing around with her!" Max stood from her chair, stopping her advance when Victoria also rose, using her slightly taller figure as a deterrence.

"It's not my fault she's a fucking pushover, Maxine."

"It's not her fault you're a fucking bitch, but lo and behold! You still treat her like shit for no reason!"

"I treat her like shit because I know she's a fucking coward and won't defend herself. You think I'm supposed to respect someone who hides behind others to soften the pain of being called out on their bullshit!? Christ, I mean look at her!" Victoria aimed her extended arm towards the other blonde, who had locked her gaze to the floor and sat timidly, having gone silent, "it's so fucking pathetic having to see that every day. It's almost hilarious—all this time you try to comfort her and tell her it's going to be okay, but you never think to toughen her up, never once have you thought to prepare her for the real world."

Victoria made to stride towards Kate, and Max tried to block her path, but was stopped once again; this time, it was by the extended hand. Kate held her hand there as she also stood, all five-foot-five of her, and beckoned to the cold-hearted Queen.

"Victoria, stop."

"Make me, Marsh."

Victoria now towered over Kate as she loomed closer, and Max's eyes widened as the pixie blonde leered at her timid counterpart, daring her to try, "Go on, look me in the eyes and say it."

Kate looked, but no words came out. Hot, bitter tears spilled from hazel orbs and trailed down flustered cheeks. Max held her breath as the tension was wound tight, so suffocating in the small dorm room.

Kate suddenly faltered, ducking her head and wiping away the tears with an idle right hand. Victoria sighed and took a couple steps back, letting Max reach her friend's side and taking Kate's left hand in a show of support. Quiet sobs reigned in the ensuing silence.

"I hope you understand now, why I'm being this way."

Max glared at the taller blonde, wanting her to just shut the hell up and leave them be. Victoria continued unabated, "I live by the rule that to gain respect, one must earn it, not force it, not expect it. Whatever respect you want from me, I won't give until you show me you deserve it."

"I am not your friend, Kate. I am not someone who cares for you like Max does. I choose to be hard on you because I hoped that maybe, just maybe, you'd stop taking the hits and stand up for yourself. You can't hide behind your friends and use them as shields to avoid your shortcomings—"

"That wasn't me," both Max and Victoria looked to Marsh and her terribly raw tone.

"What?"

"At the party. That wasn't me. I couldn't possibly get that drunk off of a single sip of wine, I have a tolerance to it from having some at church every once in a while, it just can't be right—" with eyes red from crying, Kate looked to Victoria, pleading, "how is it my fault then, that I ended up doing all those things? You say it's my fault, like I wanted to do those things, but I didn't!"

Victoria had nothing for that.

"I just wanted to know what it was like to be like everyone else. I'm sick of being seen as something I'm not, I'm not a snitch, I'm not a prude; but when I try to fit in, they still ridicule me for it! It doesn't matter what I do, they hate me anyways. You hate me anyways."

"I am not calling you a prude nor a snitch, Marsh," Victoria coldly bit, "I am calling you a coward. A horrible, no-good, spineless coward, who refuses to stand up for themselves."

"I'd rather be a coward than be on your level," Kate heatedly bit back, "if it means that I don't have to treat others badly to make myself feel better!"

Yet the Queen Bee remained stone-faced, unfazed to the insult, "You think I do this for my own ego? You think I do these things so when someone is crushed by the outside world, I can just shrug and say, I told them so? You really think that's true."

"That isn't true—!"

"Then what is the truth, Marsh?" Chase interrupted, "You and I both know what will happen when we all graduate. We go off to live our lives, our dreams. We carry on with friends and family by our side, all happy and blissfully unaware. But what happens when one of us falls apart? Is ripped from our comforts, from our little shell, and is thrown into the savage world beyond what we know?"

Victoria edges closer to Kate, looking down at the trembling girl, "Do you really think love will save us from the outside world, Marsh?"

Max looked on, unable to barge into the conversation. For those emerald-green eyes, sharp, jagged with contempt, they pierced through their soft, bloodshot hazel counterparts like a hot knife to butter.

"Do you think love will save you from the outside world?"

A raspy inhale, then, "I don't want to be saved. I want to be left alone. I want you to leave me, and Max, and everyone else alone."

Silence.

The world came to a standstill as the two blondes stood opposite each other.

"Fine," Victoria spoke with finality, "If that is what you want, then I will stop."

She abruptly turned, striding gracefully to the door, her mission accomplished.

"Wait."

The Queen had the door open and stood at the threshold when she stopped and turned.

"Is that it? Are you seriously going to leave us be?" Kate rasped, befuddled.

"I've done what I could. All you'd offer me now is your forgiveness."

"Why would I offer you forgiveness for dragging me through this hell for so long?" Kate cried, struck by aggravation, "why would anything that you've done help me?"

A pause. Then, with assuredness, as if it was set in stone—

"One day, someone will come and bring ruin to your life, Kate," and the shadows of the blinds dimmed the glow of those terrifying emerald daggers, "and whoever they are, they will be less merciful than me. So, it shall be; if not me, then who, and if not now, then when?"

The door closed with a final click, leaving the two girls still inside to stew in their dread.

A/N - It is here that I divert from what we know to be canon, and bring forth the ideals of the semi-antagonist, the devil's advocate: the Queen Bee. Victoria, both in-game and in many a fic, is pictured as heartless and cruel, to the extent that her reputation is near synonymous to Nathan's. Yet, and I stress this point as the crux of my opinion as the writer: there cannot exist a belief entirely divorced from the objective truth of reality; for indeed, while we as humans may cling to our own subjective truths, there also lives the objective truth of the natural world; a truth that is cruel and uncaring to the whims of its subjects, and demands the weak and cowardly be pushed to the edges of extinction, to make way for the strong and the courageously fit.

I refer to the beliefs of Dr. Pierce on Man and his endeavor with Nature: "I believe in the real world, the unforgiving world of Nature, in which we evolved through hard and bloody struggle over millions of years. Perhaps it is not a nice world, but it still can be a beautiful world if one looks at it with the right attitude." It is by this belief that strong-willed characters like Victoria abide by; from her inception to the present moment, she has experienced this mentality of perseverance through struggle, and only struggle, through either a projection of her strengths, or a genuine sense of strength/confidence. It is because of this solid foundation of belief, that Victoria comes most into conflict with her supposed antithesis: Kate.

Kate, from Victoria's first impression, is a tolerant Christian, entirely forgiving and kind. She believes Marsh exists in a world of herself, where there is no strife, no pain, no struggle. Kate, from Victoria's understanding, has not the slightest clue of what it means to struggle, to be able to contend for her rightful, just-deserved position in the merciless world they live in; for Victoria thinks all of Kate's time alive on this world was spent in ignorance of the objective reality she herself has experienced since birth. This envy makes Victoria see only how Kate is propped up and constantly supported by her friends, and perceives that as a deadly weakness, concluding that Marsh cannot take care of herself when alone and unaided. It matters not that Kate is a devout Christian, nor does it matter what Kate thinks of her and of those like her; to Victoria, the most telling thing about Kate is her abhorrence to the virtue of intolerance, wherein those who are wicked and twisted enough to destroy Kate may use her tolerance against her.

One can argue that it is right of Victoria to be harsh to Kate, to subject her to hardships in an effort to pull the supposedly ignorant girl from her shell and wake her up to the cruel truth of reality; for if Victoria did truly despise Kate, then she would instead leave the Christian be, and watch as Nature crushes Marsh for being ultimately weak and unfit to survive the evils it had prepared against her. On the other hand, it can be argued that Victoria herself is the vehicle of evil, driven by her envy for a more blissful life, that which Kate must choose to ignore and be doomed to suffer from; to adopt the ideal of intolerance towards evil, and not only stand up against Victoria, but also anyone or anything that comes after, that which threatens all that Kate cares for. It is further necessary to point out that much of Victoria's grievances with Kate come from what Chase thinks Marsh is, and not what the Christian truly is. This is why Chase finally relents, for it is only then does she see Kate as what she is, and not what she was.