Chapter Text
“I can work with this.” The blonde muttered to herself, tilting Veronica’s head. The former‘s grasp on her chin wasn’t especially tight, but her slender fingers and firm air of authority made her unlikely prey wonder whether she could have pulled away if she wanted to. If she wanted to. As of right now, she wasn’t so sure.
“Decent bone structure.” Heather McNamara agreed—of course, she agreed—while peering over Heather Chandler’s shoulder. “Although her skin could use some work.”
“And her face is symmetrical.” Heather Duke added. “My mom’s plastic surgeon would hate you.”
“Heather. Brush.” Chandler didn’t even look away, her green eyes reminiscent of a dog with a fresh new bone as she stared hungrily down at Veronica while holding her manicured hand out expectantly. No sooner did the (demanded) requested brush reach her hand than did the tall blonde start intensely applying make up on her captive’s face.
Veronica used to believe-
Veronica used to like to believe, at least, that she was separate from the rest of the teenage jungle. She thought that if the Heathers, the absolute epitome of unfairness and superficiality, the walking, talking symbols of the high school hierarchy, ever interacted with her, she would have immediately turned her nose up at them based off principle alone. She was different, right? She knew what it was like to be on the bottom. She wouldn’t sell her soul for artificial status.
But here she was, standing here and taking it like a dog while the Heathers treated her like their own personal doll. When Heather Chandler told her to close her eyes in that cold husky cadence of hers, she closed her eyes. When the blonde tapped a finger against Veronica’s jaw, her long red nail grazing the skin tentatively, in a silent but powerful command for her to turn her head, she didn’t hesitate.
It got to the point where Chandler didn’t even have to say a word; Veronica was consumed by her energy, mesmerized by the blonde’s masterful movements. For a few minutes, the brunette could almost feel the queen bee’s smugness at her unquestioning obedience.
When it was finally over, Heather looked down at her work with pride. “That’s better. I knew there was something hiding under all that nerdiness.”
Heather McNamara eyed Veronica with awe. “Yeah… that’s an improvement.”
“Maybe now you’ll lose your virginity.” Heather Duke said helpfully.
“How… how’d you know I was a virgin?” Veronica choked out in a low tone, just now finding her voice.
The Heathers only laughed in response. Duke spoke after they all caught their breath. “So-“
“Shut up, Heather!” Chandler interrupted. Her thin fingers remained on Veronica’s chin and her green eyes still never left Veronica’s face. If the brunette was crazy, she would have believed she saw them flicker down to her lips for half a second. If she was absolutely insane, she would have thought the taller girl was ever-so-slightly leaning in. “So, Victoria…”
“Uh, it’s Veronica, actually…” The brunette squeaked out meekly. Heather Chandler responded with a quick but piercing glare. For a moment, Veronica was concerned she’d be punished for such a grave transgression, but finally the blonde rolled her eyes.
“Veronica,” She said, a little too sweetly, “How would you like to be beautiful?”
***
Heather Chandler didn’t have friends.
She had ‘friends.’
She had people who would do things for her. She had people who would do anything for her.
She had countless people who would hang out with her if she asked them to. She had countless people who would hang themselves if she asked them to.
Nevertheless, Veronica quickly realized that Heather Chandler didn’t have anything close to what the former would consider a friend.
Heather Chandler had toys.
“Another doctor’s note, Sawyer.” The blonde puppet master ordered. “You’ll need something to write on. Heather!”
Heather Duke immediately rushed in to offer her green-clad back as a writing surface. Veronica knew she could have easily just sat at a desk or wrote the note against a wall, but she suspected Chandler just enjoyed the feeling of power. To be honest, the brunette liked it too.
Having people grovel at her feet just because Heather needed her gave her a sense of power that she never knew she needed.
That power quickly dissipated when Veronica almost fell flat on her face after Duke suddenly stood straight.
“Get a load of Martha Dumptruck.” Chandler sneered meanly.
“More like overload.” McNamara pitched in.
”Veronica! You poked my back too hard!” Duke complained.
Veronica looked up to see her best friend walking through the hallway, getting heckled and glared at just the same as always. The only difference was that this time she had nobody to keep her company.
“Forget the doctor’s note, Veronica. Looks like we have some big girl work for you to do.” Chandler turned to her, a wicked glint in her pale green eyes. “Girls, don’t you think poor Martha over there would just die of happiness if her long-time crush finally started looking her way?”
The brunette’s eyes widened. Was she talking about Ram? She couldn’t be, right? How would she even know about that?
“Veronica!” The blonde demanded, exasperated. “Get to writing. Heather, who told you it was okay to stand?”
As Duke snapped back into position, Veronica fiddled with her pencil and paper hesitantly, unsure of how to proceed. “Uh… do we really have to?”
Real surprise graced the tall girl’s face for a ghost of a moment, before it turned back to cold, unfeeling plastic. “What?” Heather asked drily.
“It just seems kinda mean…” Veronica’s voice grew quieter with every word she spoke.
“Are you saying you won’t do it?” The volume of her voice didn’t change, but her gaze only grew sharper.
“Uh…. maybe? I just don’t think we should.” Veronica averted her gaze, unable to stand the intimidation any longer.
For a moment, it almost seemed like Chandler would concede.
A very short moment. After it was over, the blonde grabbed the shorter girl by her shirt and leaned in so close that Veronica could smell her expensive vanilla perfume.
“And who gave you the impression you were making decisions around here?” Heather asked condescendingly. “Did you let it all get to your head so quickly? Did you really forget that I made you? Everything you’re wearing is mine. That means that…” She began to emphasize each word by roughly poking Veronica’s chest. “You. Belong. To. Me. If you forget again, I’ll rip these clothes off and show you-“ All of a sudden she stopped. Her eyes grew as wide as saucers.
The whole school was watching them now.