"Zoe, I'm very grateful to see you here!" she exclaims, rushing toward me with a horrified expression.
WHAT, BITCH?? At least smile for the sake of manners.
"Oh, hi. Me too," I say politely.
Ugh. I hate this side of myself. I respond politely to anyone—whether it's a draggletailed guttersnipe or the most villainous person alive. My default reaction? Politeness.
But! I absolutely despise it when others don't return the favor. Even if the situation doesn't demand it, I still want some damn courtesy. Politeness means respect. And although almost no one I talk to actually deserves that respect, I still give it.
Not because I respect them. God, no.
It's just... part of my character.
Since when have I been like this, though...?
Then she opens her mouth again.
"Don't you happen to have a clue how we ended up here? I just forgot everything."
YES, BITCH, I'M OBVIOUSLY EXTRAORDINARY ENOUGH TO REMEMBER EVERYTHING!! YES!
Oh my god, I hate this girl. Seriously, look at my surroundings—she's not a backstabbing snake like some of the other girls I know, but her intellectual level is so low it physically pains me. She's a poorie in my eyes.
Like, are you even aware of the gap between our intelligence levels? What gave you the audacity to call me your friend?
But... no. It's not her fault.
It's my fault.
It's this damn politeness. My shitty, automatic politeness that won't let me show people how much I dislike them.
But bitch... knowing that you're way beneath me, you don't have the littlest right to call me your friend.
It's bullshit. Straight-up egoism. That's all.
I didn't even realize I ignored her question—I've been lost in my raging thoughts the whole time.
"Oh? What? No, no, I don't know," I say again, back to my fake-ass polite tone.
SAY IT. TELL HER TO FUCK OFF AND WALK AWAY ALONE, BITCH!
...
Finally, we reach downstairs.
And of course, there are already two or three thousand students here.
If it hadn't been for this guttersnipe slowing me down, I would've been here earlier—scanning the area, planning my next move. But no. Instead, I'm stuck here, hating her more and more by the second.
Why am I so aggressive...?
[deen deen]
"The left time is 3 minutes and 27 seconds. The people who come after that time are not welcomed."
My head snaps up, searching for a clock.
There it is. Huge. Dominating the space.
How the hell did I not notice that earlier...?
Oh wait—there's another one directly across from it, visible from every corner of the building.
The time says: 6:56 a.m.
WHAT??
That's a time I'd never willingly wake up at.
[deen deen]
"One minute left."
I glance up again. There are still people on the upper floors, casually walking like it's a Sunday morning. They're not even hurrying.
What kind of self-absorbed bullshit is this?
We have no clue what we're about to face, and those bitches are just drifting around like this place belongs to them.
Fine. Let's see what "unwelcomed" actually means.
"I'm very excited and horrified at the same time," that guttersnipe murmurs beside me.
Does anyone give a shit about how you feel right now?
Keep that drama to yourself or fuck off from my space.
"Oh yes, me too," I reply.