A/N: The latest update my lovelies! (Sorry it's so late I got a little sidetracked). Anyway, I just realised that my headcanons for this fic are WAY different from how they were when I wrote the original. Like a lot of the characters have much more in-depth development and motives behind their actions. Like Duncan with his home-life; Heather with social pressure; Courtney and her own perfectionism; Anne-Maria struggling with her own identity; Dakota with peer pressure/bullying; oh and Gwen - I guess. Gwen is just the grouchy goth to be honest - although she's got more reason to be a goth. Kinda like escapism. There is basically SO much more going on in this fic. I haven't even mentioned Sadie and her ED and the other stuff.

Anywho, as you can probably guess I have gone WAY darker as I've gotten older. This version is definitely a lot darker than the first one - but I like that. Hey, we might add drug use (cause that is a real thing) but I may up the rating if that is the case. Cause drug stuff... well, it gets heavy and dark real fast.

Gucci Mane LaFlare - Thanks :)

Nevertheless, I'll stop chewing you guys' ears off. Enjoy the read and until next time,

D.L.D

Plots add Emotions equals Drama

Gwen's P.O.V

Unusually, for a weekend, I wake up early. On a Saturday. You know what's even weirder? For some unforeseen reason, as if it's ever a normal reason, I wake up and decide to make myself a pretty decent breakfast, dragging my half-asleep, dark-pajama-clad self down the stairs and into the kitchen. Without even one moan, groan or even mumble, I manage to shuffle into the kitchen, ready to start the day off great, only to come face to face with a note:

Morning Gwen! I've got to run some errands for the day and have the night shift at work again. I'll call you later on, Love Mum.
Just a reminder: your brother's gone to a friend's birthday party. Don't expect him back until tomorrow :)

Frowning, I read the note twice over before realising that's why I had such a good sleep. On most Saturdays I would be woken up super-duper early by my brother rushing to soccer practice while my mum bustled about in the kitchen, attempting to make everyone breakfast before zooming off for her twelve hour shift at the care home. An empty house means no noise; no noise means Gwendolyn gets a very good sleep. A very good sleep indeed.

Distracted by the note, I almost forget about my breakfast plans. Only almost. Because a handy text from Duncan sucks me straight back to reality, prompting for my hand to reach for the waffle mix stored somewhere in the cupboards.

*New Message*: 10:45 am - Duncan

Duncan: Hey pasty, u ready for the party tonight?

Rolling my eyes, I could only shake my head as I read over his text. Of course the party is the first thing on Duncan's mind. The very party that he more or less blackmailed me into just for the sake of roping me along.

Gwen: I literally just woke up from death. Do I really have to go?

Placing my phone to the counter, I go back to prepping breakfast. Milk swiped from the fridge, as well as some eggs, I begin to mix the ready-mixed powder and wet ingredients together. As soon as I have the waffle maker prepped, the little red light flickering to green, my phone pings to life with a new message. Typical.

*New Message*: 10:59 am - Duncan

Duncan: Yeah but we can always do something else

Nope. Nope. Nope, nope, nope. There is no way that I'm going to let Duncan plan anything else all because I don't want to go to some stupid party. If I give Duncan enough wriggle room he can easily have me signed up for skydiving or playing some broke, middle-class version of the hunger games for barely any reward. Gwendolyn Maves is not up for a day of ducking, diving and dodging. Not when she's just recovered from a week of hell - I mean, school.

Gwen: Nope. Party's fine. What time are you picking me up?

Duncan: Around 6. Y?

Gwen: So you DON'T come when I'm getting ready

After sending off that message, I decide to make my waffles that are starting to get stale in their bowl of congealed mix. Once before I made the mistake of not making sure that I knew what time Duncan was coming to meet me. Conveniently, as if the little shit had planned his arrival, he'd bumped right into me after a fresh, relaxing shower. Toweled up, sporting a big blush and definitely a bumbling mess: that was a moment of my life I vowed to never repeat. Even if we were only thirteen at the time.

Duncan: u know I'm gonna keep bugging ya until u tell me what's wrong

Frowning, I glare at my phone. This again? Really? I thought we resolved it yesterday.

Gwen: I already did.

For a while I don't get a response. Long enough for my waffles to finish cooking, for a plate to pulled out and the maple syrup poured, Duncan doesn't respond. Usually he's lightning quick. Usually he'll respond within the blink of an eye. Maybe he's fallen asleep or something. Or his dad's probably going on a rant again because Duncan is actually home for once. That tends to take a lot of Duncan's attention.

Deciding to push all Duncan-related thoughts to the back of my mind, I get to work on demolishing my perfect creation of a breakfast. Smelling divine, and definitely looking as such, my stack of homemade waffles definitely doesn't look to shabby - all bias aside. Being left alone a lot as a kid, responsible for feeding your little brother with whatever is in the house, sure did teach me a thing or two about making good crap food. Noodles, boxed mixed and microwavable dishes are my element; real cooking is another story.

As I take a bite from my stack - perfectly syrupy goodness - my phone pings once more.

Duncan: Are we still cool?

What sort of question is that?

Gwen: Of course. Why wouldn't we be?

Again, for too long, Duncan doesn't respond. In that time I finish my waffle stack and rinse off the plate, sticky syrup down the drain and crumbs following it. Shiny silver cutlery is placed into the dish rack and I almost drop the plate on the floor when my phone chimes, indicating a new message. Before I even look at the notification, I know who it is. I've known Duncan for too long to not know that it is him.

Duncan: Nothing

But that nothing is what sits on my mind. That nothing, which spurred Duncan to ask such a thing, is heavy. Why wouldn't Duncan think that we're friends anymore?

Katie's P.O.V

Groggily, my eyes flutter open as my alarm clock wakes me up. Five AM: that's the new wake up call for me. Bright and early when the birds are calling, the sun not even rising in the dark morning sky once the winter darkness finally hits the town. Waking up at five AM definitely won't be pleasant then. Future me is dreading those months, shivering in the cold as I roll out of bed and force myself into warm clothes for an early morning run.

Speaking of, I'd better get ready for it. Getting out of bed with a good stretch, I manage to enjoy a nice shower before getting dressed. Like always it's a matching outfit: pink fluffy sweater and white leggings. Sadie and I had bought them this summer - just before they'd sold out of the limited edition sweaters at the mall. One of kind, they'd been advertised as. They are the perfect thing to symbolize our friendship.

Ever since we made it through cheerleading trials, Sadie and I have decided to start jogging around the block. To keep Heather happy - and to help Sadie get to her dream weight - I decided to support her in the idea. Even if I don't entirely agree with it. That's what friends are for, right? Encouraging their BFFFLS to follow their dreams, no matter how much you think that they're perfect just the way they are.

Before I leave the house, I pocket my phone and keys. Two mandatory items for a growing girl these days. Ever since I started high school I would never leave the house without them.

Waiting outside, Sadie seems excited for our first morning jog. Wearing a pair of white joggers and the same pink sweater, she grins as she spots me leaving, holding back the squeal that I know she wants to release. Squealing is something we do to share our excitement. But, at five in the morning, I doubt the entire neighbourhood wants to be woken up by two teenage girls squealing away in the middle of the street.

"Morning Katie," Sadie couldn't contain her bright beam as I approach her. Wrapping me into a tight hug, one that is overwhelming in the scent of her glittery perfume, she smiles, "Thanks for doing this with me. It means a lot."

"Don't mention it," I hug her back, just as tight and just as grateful. "I've been meaning to find an excuse to stay fit anyway."

Between us we stifle the upcoming storm of giggles. Together we are a menace to anything serious. Jokes and smiles, giggles and smirks, are always shared between us whenever we're together. That's why Mr Chambers had to seat us on opposite ends of the classroom in eighth grade. That's always why Mrs Price gives us a detention after English because we simply can't stay quiet while going through Shakespeare.

"Alright, now let's start jogging!" Sadie announces, ending our muffled laugh-fest.

Just like we planned, we do three laps round the block - starting off simple but still tough enough to wind us. For the first lap, it's effortless. Keeping a steady pace - something I surprisingly remember from gym - I manage to avoid getting a stitch or becoming too winded. Sadie, on the other hand, has tried to speed ahead. By the second lap she's ready to call it quits but I decide to keep her going. Three laps is the start point and three laps would be done.

Both sweating, panting messes, we make it back to my house in one piece. Wordlessly, we kick off our shoes and waddle into the kitchen. All the lights are still off so my parents are still asleep, meaning it's around six AM. That means breakfast would be my duty today - we take it in shifts depending on who wakes up first. Automatically, I take my post at the stove and counters while Sadie perches at her usual spot, balanced on a stool at the kitchen's island table.

"So," I begin gently, a slow extension of the word in a way that is hopefully casual. "What do you feel like eating?"

These days food feels like a danger zone whenever I'm around Sadie. Since Heather has made her so self-conscious, I try to limit conversations about diets and different 'weight-loss' recipes. Weight shouldn't be at the forefront of Sadie's mind - not when she's perfectly healthy as she is. Some people are just larger than others; just like how some people are taller than others. If only Heather Chang could get that...

"Something low in carbs," Sadie immediately responds, wise and almost mystical as she sits at my kitchen table. Waving a hand absentmindedly, she adds, "Maybe something like a fruit salad or eggs?"

"Alright," I nod, heading toward the fridge to get my main ingredients. Fruit salad definitely isn't going to fill us up - coming from a human twig - so we'll go with the eggs option. Maybe with some avocado or toast too. "Eggs and toast it is."

Content, I busy myself with the task at hand. In the background Sadie begins to chatter about something, most likely her excitement about finally being accepted into the cheer squad. All of the girls have been so welcoming toward us - even Heather herself. Now that we're cheerleaders, we're essentially part of their family. Everything includes us. All of those perks we used to miss out on are now ours to access. That includes hanging out with Heather.

Breakfast takes no more than fifteen minutes to prepare and dish. Soon Sadie and I are at the table, tucking into a well-deserved meal, only to both pause as we hear the familiar groan of the creaky step on the stairs. Someone else is awake.

"Morning girls," My dad smiles, used to the sight of his kitchen being taken over by the pair of us. Taking a seat at the table, probably predicting that I've made enough breakfast for us all, he raises a brow as he glances at us, "So, what have you two got planned for today?"

"Oh we're just going to the mall," Sadie waves it off as nothing while I get up, dishing out a thankfully still warm serving of eggs and toast for my dad. He's never liked avocados. They're simply too bland for him - that's what he'd always told me growing up. "Heather said she'd meet us there."

"Heather?" My mum soon appears, a graceful, sleepy figure in the kitchen doorway as she yawns. Still wrapped around her, the white material of her dressing gown glows in the yellow beam of our hallway light as she folds her arms and raises a questioning brow, "Do you mean Heather Chang?"

There is no need for me to turn around to know what my mum thinks. Sensing how your mum thinks must be a unique mother-daughter thing because I can always tell what she thinks without even seeing her face. Whenever I was making a bad decision I'd always feel a strange twinge in my gut; whenever I knew that my mum wouldn't approve, I always heard her voice, advising me to make a completely different decision.

This morning isn't any different. While I serve her up a plate of eggs, toast and avocado, I could sense the disappointment. Instantly.

"Yes mama, but it's perfectly fine," I find myself saying, begging for my words to be enough to soothe her concerns. Sadie and I aren't little kids anymore; we could handle this alone. "Sadie and I can protect ourselves."

"It's not that I'm worried about, mija," My mum sighs, taking a seat at the table. As I turn around with both her and dad's plates, I dare to shoot a glance at her. Immediately I meet her concerned face, pressed into the light wrinkles she's gained over the years. "You know as well as I do that the Changs aren't very nice people. Mrs Chang... well she's raised her girl to be quite nasty, hasn't she? Do you both remember when she picked on you both because you wore matching outfits?"

"Yes, mama- " I try to counter her.

"But it's different now," Sadie butts in, more eager than actually helpful. If anything her eagerness only heightens my mum's internal mother-alarm - especially because she knows how impressionable we both could be when it comes to Heather and her revolving door of trends. "We're part of her squad now."

"Oh, querida, it's never that simple," My mum solemnly shook her head, poking a few eggs with her fork. Turning away from Sadie, focusing her gaze on me, she asks in a gentle tone - the type that I know is laced with a silent plea. "Just be careful ok? The Changs aren't the sort of people to leave you unscathed."

Those words seal it for me. While Sadie nods and hums away, completely unaffected, I'm rooted to the spot, my mum's words clinging to my mind. What if she is telling the truth? Heather hasn't always been kind to us before - even when we were doing popular things. In the past, whenever we'd tried to please her, to fit into her clique, we always ended up being looked down on and cast to the shadows. What if the same thing is repeating right now? What if... Heather is using us now?

"Come on Katie, we have to go," Sadie has finished up breakfast, breaking my chain of thoughts as she pushes away from the table and dumps her plate into the sink, "Or else we're gonna be late!"

Blinking, I grab my purse, filled with all the items I'd possibly need, and leave my stunned parents behind. All in favour of supporting my best friend; all in favour of meeting Heather at the mall.

Dakota's P.O.V

Much faster than I would have liked, I arrive at the mall and manage to find a decent parking spot for my car. As I lock up my car, I can't help but think about today being yet another horrible day. Another day spent feeling terrible. Already I can feel the dread setting in - and I haven't even seen Heather yet. Part of me doesn't want to because I know that as soon as I see her, any hint of her, my day would enter a downward spiral of feeling bad.

Flashy, drawing the attention of everyone around her, Heather's arrival is not one you could easily miss. Bright red, almost like a ruby in the sun, her convertible shimmers as her engine roars and Heather parks in a spot right up front. Sat in the back are Courtney and Lindsay - one a windswept mess and the other whooping with cheer. Heather, the Queen of Mean herself, is right up front, red halter-neck on and dark green mini-skirt to match.

When I approach them, Heather is applying a new coat of lip gloss to her lips, watching her hand-mirror critically. Courtney and Lindsay are talking in low tones, Lindsay showing Courtney something on the lit up phone screen in her hand as Courtney smooths down her fly-away hairs.

"Hey girls," Smiling, I attempt to try and stifle the choking feeling of awkwardness within me. It doesn't work. "Where are Katie and Sadie?"

"They're five minutes away," Heather shrugs offhandedly, still focused on her mirror. Although her lip gloss is long gone, Heather is known to spend a while primping and picking away at her reflection. Getting ready for anything with her could be a complete nightmare. But still, I'd rather that to carrying out Heather's evil deeds. One thousand hours spent getting ready for one afternoon is much better than one minute of being evil.

Suddenly, Heather closes her mirror with a snap, drawing all of our attention, "Now, remember to stick to the plan, girls," Turning to face us all, scrutiny in her stone-grey eyes, Heather frowns, "We need to split them up one way or another. So act nicer than usual, get Katie's guard up and split up the Terrible Twins."

"But why?" I couldn't help myself. Knowing why, trying to justify the evil, is something I always have to do.

"Because," Courtney sighs, drawing out the word as if I am some kind of idiot. Rolling her eyes, she continues, "Katie's parents already know what Heather's like. Thanks to her reputation as a... well, not-so-nice person. They'll get anxious about Katie hanging around Heather and they'll advise Katie to stay away."

"But," Heather butts in, shoving Courtney out of the way. Leaning over the back of the driver's seat, she grins, "It will work to our benefit."

"Shoving me out of the way is rude!" Courtney huffs, clearly outraged.

"Well, you'll do well to remember your place," Heather smiles back, one that stretched at her lips and eyes in a menacing way. Clearly she's furious, ready to burst, and we all know what happens if we manage to push Heather's wrath that far. Therefore, Lindsay and I aren't too surprised when Courtney clamps her mouth shut, her brows furrowing with resignation. There is no point in arguing. Not with Heather.

"Anyway," Heather sighs, seeming refreshed with the display of her power over the group. "Katie will become more anxious the nicer we are to them both. The worse her anxiety, the more suspicions she gains. Then they'll clash. And when Sadie is at her lowest point, lost and vulnerable without her friend Katie," Heather smirks, her hand curling into a fist, "We'll befriend her and embarrass her when she least expects it, setting the example for the rest of the sheep."

Equal confusion is shared within the group. None of us could see the true purpose of this plan other than humiliating Sadie. All of it feels incredibly mean, incredibly inhuman and definitely cruel. Way too cruel. What had Katie - let alone Sadie - done to deserve this?

"Why are we doing this again?" Lindsay asks, frowning a little as she tilts her head to the side. Only she, someone who lets things filter in and out of her head, could dare to ask Heather such a stupid question.

"We're doing this because we need to remind everyone that I have the ultimate power here, right Dakota?" Immediately the pressure, the heat, is placed right under me. Heather, furious beneath the surface, is looking at me with the 'Agree or I'll tell' look. And nothing scares me more than everyone knowing my secret. Nothing makes me freeze, makes me forget everything I stood for, like Heather and that stare.

"Yes," I nod, sending the best and most assuring smile I could to Lindsay. In that moment it is all I could do. In that moment, trying to save my own skin, it is all I could think to do. Pleasing Heather is the only way to stay safe; becoming Heather's mouthpiece is the only way to avoid being burned by the true fire. Staying in the pot - although boiling and bubbling and burning - is better than being roasted alive.

As if on cue, Katie and Sadie arrive - a jumble of bubbly pop music and girlish giggles as they pull up in a rather old-looking mazda. When they emerge from the car, Sadie seems to be the epitome of an excited kid. Katie, her complete opposite, looks like a nervous wreck. Immediately they come up to the main group, still surrounding Heather's flashy convertible, and blend into the new conversation centered around what we'd do today.

All too soon we're heading toward the mall, a great glass building that boasts flashy advertisements and distractions. If there is any place in this crummy town that can be great fun, then it's the mall. Everything is built around this place: attractions, businesses and newly built homes alike. Every inch of the local economy relies on this one patch of land, gleaming in the early autumn sun like a diamond in the rough.

Plus, other kids from surrounding smaller places often come here looking for something to do. Heather, always eager to stake a position of authority over anyone her age, often comes here just to make it clear who runs this entire town - or rather its few selection of schools. Then she'd drag me into it, because I'm always being dragged into her messes. There is no way for me to escape.

For the next few hours we all wander about the building, first inspecting and combing through clothing stores before filtering down to perfume places or one stand that did really cute and colourful knockoffs (although I keep that purchase secret from Heather). By midday we've all regrouped at the central food court, Katie and Sadie appearing to have been spoiled by Heather and her oddly generous spending. Never a good sign.

"So, where are we eating today?" Heather kicks off the conversation, a dangerous gleam within her flint-grey eyes. Lazily, a hand rests on her hip as she continues, "I heard that there's a new place that opened up. Apparently they deep fry everything."

"I mean, I usually go for a salad," Courtney responds, seeming disgusted at just the mention of deep-fried anything. I don't think I've ever seen that girl eat anything but healthy, nutritious foods. Fried, greasy food definitely did seem like the opposite of Courtney; she always used to complain about Duncan's love of anything greasy, questionable and oil-fused.

"Yeah but that new place is apparently really good," Lindsay chips in, her excitement clouding her judgement as she turns to Heather with a giddy grin, "You're talking about The Fry, right? Someone was totally supposed to meet me there last week and we were gonna try something to do with potatoes. But when I asked for directions, someone pointed me out to a completely different restaurant! Crazy, right?"

"I'm down for it if you are," Katie turns to Sadie, cutting off Lindsay's tangent. In response, Sadie gives a short yet certain nod.

Then all eyes turn to me - the only one who hasn't voiced their opinion. Not that it would truly matter, though. There isn't a real debate to it. No, Heather just wants it to seem like we have a choice in where we go to eat. In reality, she's chosen that specific place on purpose and I know she has before we'd even seen the place. There always is a second motive with Heather; there is always another scheme brewing, something deadly and dangerous, behind her generous facade and wide, welcoming smile.

"Yeah, sounds good," I force myself to give an assuring grin, burying down the dread growing in my gut. "My followers on InstaChat are dying to see my try it anyways."

That seals the deal. Leading the way, head held high, Heather forces us - well, blindly forces the others - toward her intended destination. As soon as we get there, all the pieces click together in a terrible moment of epiphany. Greasy fried food, a menu with nothing healthy on it, a crowd of people to watch it all unfold: Heather is going to weaken the bond between Katie and Sadie today. Right in front of a big, flourishing crowd.

As if sensing my own apprehension, Katie herself grows uneasy. So uneasy, in fact, that she grabs Sadie by the arm, yanking her aside as she quickly requests to have a private chat with her best friend away from Heather.

"Sure," All too easily Heather nods, her smile warm and accommodating but not reaching her eyes. No, they flash with malice, cruel and cold. Once Katie and Sadie are out of earshot, she smirks, nudging me with her bony elbow, "It's only a matter of time now."

Beside me Courtney snickers - out of fear or actual amusement I don't know - and Lindsay soon follows, like sheep in a flock. Different, feeling the guilt clogging up my system, I only look on helplessly, my heart going out to the duo. Beside me, my hand balls into a loose fist. Why am I so helpless? Why am I unable to gather the strength to warn them? Am I that scared of being exposed, that terrified of being made fun of?

None of us need to be there to know that Heather is right. Within a few seconds we could hear them bickering, falling into the familiar push-and-pull of a typical Katie and Sadie dispute.

"You're only being paranoid because you're jealous, Katie," Sadie scoffs, folding her arms across her chest as she glares at her best friend. Instead of the smile she had been sporting all day she now wears a frown, deep and prominent on her rounded face. "You're just scared that Heather's going to replace you as my top BFF."

"Like I would be jealous of her!" Katie shakes her head, obviously finding humour as well as offense within Sadie's remarks. One hand rests on her skinny hip, while she taps one of her feet against the solid stone ground. "I'm trying to help you here, Sadie!"

"No you're not," Sadie accuses, drawing more attention as her voice becomes much more sharp and twisted. Now she is making a scene, her hands in the air as tears poured from her eyes, reddening her complexion and making dark eyeliner pools as she sniffs, "You're just trying to put me down because you're scared of losing me. Just like you did back in middle school!"

"Sadie..." Katie reaches out to comfort her, but it's too late. Sadie slaps away her hand and there is an audible gasp from Katie, her eyes wide and brimming with hurt. Powerful hurt. Hurt bad enough to make tears pool in her eyes, ebbing and wavering like waves in a wave pool, before she shakes her head. Then, suddenly, Katie's concern morphs into anger, frustration, and she steps away from her friend, "You know what? Fine. Don't believe me! I'm going."

Not bothering to return to the group, only sending a withering glare to Heather, Katie stomps away, her wedges echoing sharply against the stone ground. In her wake is Sadie, tearful and trembling, her hands shaking the bags within her grasp, as she sniffs. None of them have truly meant what they said - at least I hope they don't. Either way, they've fallen right into Heather's trap. They are right where Heather wants them to be.

"Time to play the supportive friend," Heather sings, turning away from the scene to focus on the queue we've joined, "Smile girls."

Automatically, my lips fix into a simple grin. There is no use in fighting it - not now. I'm simply in too deep to stop following her commands. I am too far gone to be someone else. But, as Sadie joins us, ready to blub out her heartaches and paint Katie as the villain - the one who is jealous and callous and cruel - I just couldn't keep it up. Something within me wobbles, cracks open like an egg hitting the solid ground.

"I'll see you guys later," My heart acts before my brain could, kicking me into the action before I could even think it through. Leaving behind the group of girls, I split away from the queue and run after Katie.

This time, for once, I am not going to be Heather's pawn.