Opening the door, Y/N hesitantly peeked out. The hallway was empty except for one student running in the opposite direction from her before sliding to a stop in front of a classroom and entering it. Keeping her head down, Y/N stepped out of the restroom and headed for the health office, misery growing inside her with every step. Those girls were right—she was a nobody and probably would always be.

As she walked, she replayed the hurtful words in her mind. "A nobody."

 "Why would he ask her?" The pain in her chest tightened, and she felt her eyes welling up with tears again. She quickly wiped them away, choosing not to cry in front of anyone.

When she reached the health office, she took a deep breath and knocked softly on the door before entering. The nurse looked up from her desk, her kind eyes immediately noticing Y/N's distress.

"Hi, amm Choi.....Y/N ha.... What's the matter, dear?" the nurse asked gently.

Y/N tried to steady her voice, forcing herself to sound convincing. "I'm having really bad period cramps. Can I go home?"

The nurse stood and walked over, placing a hand on Y/N's forehead as if checking for a fever. "You do look a bit pale. Let's call your mom."

Grateful for the nurse's understanding, Y/N nodded. While the nurse dialed the number, Y/N sat in one of the chairs, trying to calm her racing heart. 

After a short conversation, the nurse hung up the phone and smiled reassuringly. "Your mom is on her way. You can wait here until she arrives."

"Thank you," Y/N said, her voice barely above a whisper.

As she sat there, she wondered what she would say to her mom. She didn't want to worry her parents, but she couldn't keep this pain bottled up inside. Maybe talking to her cousin Lia would help her find some way to cope.

After what felt like an eternity, her mom arrived. Y/N quickly gathered her things and followed her mom out of the office. As they walked to the car, her mom glanced at her with concern.

"Y/N, what happened? Are you really sick, or is something else going on?"

Y/N bit her lip, trying to hold back her tears. "I said it was period cramps, Mom."

Her mom nodded, giving her a comforting smile. "I understand. Let's get you home and comfortable, hot milk will help I am sure"

The ride home was quiet, but the silence was soothing. Y/N leaned her head against the window, watching the familiar streets pass by.

Reaching home, Y/N walked out of the car before her mom, rushing upstairs to her room. She locked the door and placed her bag on the study table. Before she could walk to her closet room, she heard her mom speaking from the door.

"Is it paining too much?" her mom asked.

"Mom—" Y/N started, but then she heard her mom trying to open the door. Typical Asian household; no privacy, they never have the word privacy in their dictionary for sure.

"Y/N, open the door, please," her mom's voice was soft but insistent.

Y/N sighed, knowing there was no use in trying to keep her out. She walked over and unlocked the door, letting her mom in. Her mom entered and immediately gave her a concerned look.

"Are you sure it's just cramps? You look very upset," her mom said gently, brushing a strand of hair away from Y/N's face.

Y/N forced a small smile. "Yeah, it's just cramps. They were really bad today."

Her mom's face softened with sympathy. "Oh, my poor baby. Why didn't you call me sooner? You could have come home right away."

Y/N shrugged, trying to act casual. "I didn't want to miss too much school. I'll be okay, Mom."

Her mom guided her to sit on the bed and sat down next to her. "Well, I'm glad you're home now. You need to rest. How about we get you some tea and a warm blanket?"

Y/N nodded, grateful for her mom's concern, even though the real pain was something she couldn't talk about. "That sounds good."

Her mom kissed her forehead. "I'll be right back. You just relax, okay?"

After her mom left, Y/N slowly made her way toward the bathroom. Stripping out of her school uniform, she stood in her undergarments, eyes burning with tears. Why, just why? Why can't people mind their own business instead of picking on someone's insecurities? Comparison has been killing her spirit, day by day.

The picture-perfect people look down on those who don't fit their narrow standards, as if they were superior simply because of their looks. Those who think they were born with fair skin and beautiful bodies treat insecurity as something to joke about. They don't understand how much their words hurt, how they chip away at someone's self-esteem until there's almost nothing left.

Y/N stared at herself in the mirror, hating how the words of others had made her feel so small. The teasing and the cruel jokes cut deep, leaving scars that no one else could see.

Why can't people see beyond the surface? Why can't they understand that everyone is fighting their own battles, dealing with their own insecurities?

She wiped away the tears that had started to fall, trying to shake off the heavy weight in her chest. It was so unfair. She wasn't perfect, but she didn't deserve to be treated like this.

Y/N's thoughts raced as she turned on the shower, letting the steam fill the bathroom. She stepped under the hot water. Her hands rubbed over her half-fat tummy, the lower part more pronounced. She looked down at her thighs, thick but not lean or toned like the girls at school. She saw body hair in places she wished were smooth and flawless. Spots and acne dotted her face, and her hair, frizzy from the humidity, felt like another burden she had to carry.

Why can't I look like them? Why can't I be like them? With their perfect breasts, hair, face, skin, and everything?

Stripping off her garments, Y/N stepped out of the shower and wrapped herself in a towel. She turned her head and looked at the mirror, staring at her reflection. How did she end up as the person someone never wanted to be? She had brains, not beauty, and people always wanted beauty with brains.

Her eyes traveled over her features: the acne on her face, the frizzy hair, the body that didn't fit the ideal standards she saw everywhere. She felt a lump forming in her throat again. How come, for some people, she felt like shit, so worst about herself?

Why couldn't they see past her appearance and appreciate her for who she really was? Why did their words and opinions have so much power over her self-esteem?

She stood there, staring at her reflection, feeling the weight of their judgments. The perfect girls with their flawless skin, shiny hair, and enviable bodies. The ones who never seemed to struggle with insecurities, who always had everything together. Why couldn't she be like them?