(A/n: Hey! Usually I just update this on Mondays, but it's Varian Appreciation Week, so enjoy a bonus chapter!!!)

Wow, a lot has happened in such a short amount of time...

And now I'm at Stalyan Chandler's house to hopefully get back on her good side...

"Stalyan? Stalyan?" I called out once we entered her house.

"...What?" I heard coming from upstairs.

"It's (Y/n), I'm here to apologize."

"Hope you brought some kneepads, brat!" I heard in reply, "I'm tired from last night. Make me some coffee, and I'll think about it."

I began to do as she said.

And then I had an idea.

"Look, look, look, look, look. Here's my revenge. I'm gonna put a flemglobber in her coffee and she'll never know. Ready?" I laughed, then spit some mucus into her coffee cup. (A/n: I had to look up what a "flemglobber" was)

"I'm more of a no-rust-buildup man myself." VD smirked, holding up a bottle of drain cleaner in a blue bottle that he had found under the sink.

"Oh, okay. Don't be a jerk. That stuff would kill her." I laugh at his joke. 

It was a joke right...?

"Thus, ending her tiredness, and suffering, and whatever problems she's got!" he said, pouring the blue liquid into a clear glass, "I say, we go with big blue."

"You can't just go- uh." 

He wasn't actually being serious, was he? 

"Besides, she would never drink something that looks like that." I pointed out.

"Right... We use a mug. That way, she'll have no idea what she's drinking." he said, pouring the drain cleaner into a mug identical to the one I was putting her coffee in, "Chicken," he said, then made clucking noises.

"No, you're not funny." I frowned at him. His 'joke' was going to far.

"Okay," he replied, setting the mug on the counter, "Okay. I'm sorry."

I gave him a hug, and picked up the mug off the counter, then went to give Stalyan her coffee.

"(Y/n), you-" VD started, but stopped.

"What?" I questioned him.

"...Nevermind."

"Okay..." I trailed off, then turned back around to go to Stalyan.

That was weird.

"Good morning, Stalyan."

"Aw, (Y/n)... and Jesse James, quelle surprise. Well, let's get to it. Beg." she smirked, evilly, as she sat up on the side of her bed. (A/n: Jesse! James! Team Rocket blasts off at the speed of light-)

"Okay, um. I think that last night we both said a lot things that we-"

"I'd actually prefer if you did this on your knees. In front of your little boyfriend here."

"Um. I'm really sorry-" I tried to continue my apology.

"Do I look like I'm kidding? Down."

So she was serious about me being on my knees...

I did as I was told, reluctantly.

"Nice. But you're still dead to me." she said, then grabbed the mug out of my hand, and took a large sip. After a second, she stood up and started gagging. My eyes went wide, not knowing what was happening.

She then latched onto my arm.

"Corn...Nuts!" she said. Stalyan then staggered, and fell to the ground. I knelt down beside her, and felt her pulse. But there was none...

"Oh my goodness!" Varian said, looking at the dead girl on the ground. I grabbed the mug and looked inside. In it was blue liquid...

"Oh my- Oh my goodness! Don't just stand there, call 911!" I exclaimed.

"It's a little late for that."

"Stalyan! Stalyan. Stalyan. Oh my goodness. Oh my goodness, I just killed my best friend!"

"And your worst enemy." 

I glared at VD.

"Same difference! I mean- the police are gonna think that I did this on purpose. Oh my God, they're gonna have to send my SAT scores to Tirapai." I panicked.

"Unless... Oh, look, she was reading 'The Bell Jar'." he said picking up said book.

"Oh no." I said sternly, seeing where he was going with this.

"Oh, yes. You can fake her handwriting. Just make it sound deep. Like this," he then began coming up with words, "I had pain in my path, like Silvia Plath. My problems were myriad-"

I began laughing at the thought of Stalyan saying all of this deep stuff. She seemed about as deep as a kiddie pool.

But then I remembered what had happened.

I had killed her.

Yes, it may have been an accident, but I still felt guilty...

"You think this is funny? You could go to jail! Get your head on straight, now!"

"Okay, okay, okay, okay, okay. Stalyan would never use the word 'myriad' because she missed it on her vocab quiz last week." I pointed out.

"So, it's a badge for her failures at school. Work with me."

"Okay, okay. Um. Where do I start?"

"Think. Long and hard. What would she say? What's her- her final statement to a cold, uncaring planet?" VD said, trying to help me think. I grabbed a pencil and a piece of paper, and started writing.

"Uh, Dear World, uh..." I said aloud as I wrote, "Believe it or not, I knew about fear. I knew the way loneliness stung. I hid behind smiles and crazy cute clothes. I learned to kiss boys from very young."

"That's good." VD commented.

"But oh, the world, it held me down..." I paused for a second, "Uh..." I said, then thought of another sentence, "It weighed like a concrete prom queen crown."

I kept writing.

No one thinks a pretty girl has feelings.
No one gets her insecurity.
I am more than shoulder pads and makeup.
No one sees the me inside of me.

"Keep going. This has to be good enough to fool the cops." VD said. I nodded.

They couldn't see past my rockstar mystique,
They wouldn't dare look in my eyes.
But just underneath was a terrified girl,
Who clings to her pillow and cries.
My looks were just like prison bars.
They've left me a myriad of scars.
No one thinks a pretty girl has substance.
That's the curse of popularity.
I am more than fun behind the bleachers.
No one sees the me inside of me.

Box up my clothing for Goodwill,
And give the poor my Nordic Track.
Donate my car to crippled kids,
Or to those ghetto moms who lack.
Give them my hats and my CDs,
My pumps, my flats, my three TVs!

No one thinks a pretty girl has feelings-
But I weep for all I failed to be.
Maybe I can help the world by leaving.
Maybe that's the me inside of me.

The entire school was in the auditorium, as the forged suicide note was read aloud, and it was announced that there would be a long weekend, which caused everyone to cheer.

"Alright, not so fast, kids." Ms. Phantom said when we all tried to leave, "Here, take these and pass them around now." she said, handing out copies of the note, "They're refueling the buses, which gives us a solid half hour of healing. Now, I've mimeographed copies of the suicide note so you can feel Stalyan's anguish."

I sighed. Here we go...

"I never knew about her pain." I heard someone say.

"Go on!" Ms. Phantom encouraged.

"Her life had hit a rocky patch."

"Feel!" the teacher said.

"Deep down she wasn't cruel or vain."

"Heal!"

"She didn't mean to be a snatch!"

"(Y/n), you've been awfully quiet. What's on your mind?" Ms. Phantom asked, handing me a microphone.

"Uh, maybe Stalyan realized that, uh, in order to be happy she had to give up her power. And the only way to do that was... death?" I said, thankful that I could come up with something quickly.

"My goodness. Look what we've done. We're breaking through! Heather would be so proud of you!" Ms. Phantom smiled.

"No one thinks a pretty girl can touch you. But she's made us better than we were. Heather's dead, but she will live inside me. And I'll be the me inside of her..." everyone began saying, "Heather's gone, but she will live forever!"

"She's the dove that sings outside my window!" one girl said.

Uh...

"She's the twin from whom I'm separated!" a boy said.

Okay then...

"She's the horse I never got for Christmas!" another girl said.

That's weird...

"Heather sees the me inside of me! Heather is the me inside of me! Inside of... Me!"