I'm sitting on the couch, watching TV with my mom and Sean. As always I have my phone in my hand going through my social media pages. I decide to have a look at my tags on Instagram. Some of the pictures are on Nikko's (the photographer) page, and the comments weren't looking bad. I look at the picture on Jay's profile, which we took at the carnival. I have a look at the comments.

I'm in disbelief as I'm being written off as an opportunist. That's preposterous, Jay's the "opportunist", all of the comments were from girls, and seemingly a few knew Chloe. As I scroll down the thousands of comments thrown at me, I found profiles saying I'd been dumped at prom, and they had a picture of Jay, Chloe and me. Some were captioned "little boo or real woman?" and others "flexible dancer vs. hot cheerleader" and people could vote.

I don't feel like Jay played me, more like I played myself. Now he's making money, and my agent will probably get me a job in one of his music videos. Maybe we'll do some intimate dance, and I'll take part, because I'm getting paid. I was glad that I was leaving the school, I wouldn't be reminded of the bittersweet memories, but as for now, I take a cab to school, hoping everyone forgets that my birthday is approaching in a few days.

The day was going well, fast too, it was already break and we were walking on the school field. I was walking far in front of Tracy and Picassio and I bumped into Jay, who I deeply wanted to murder. I looked back at Tracy and she was closer.

"Scarlet...uhh." Jay says and I stare at the craziness in front of me as Picassio breathes heavily next to me. "I don't want you in my life, and I want nothing to do with you. So you can leave me alone, and you should listen to my new track coming out soon, it's called Uncommitted. I never really actually liked you. Have a good life." He finally says, aggressively shoving me out of the way and leaving.

Was I hurt? Yes. That was so unnecessary, why didn't he just let me be? Now he's writing diss tracks about me, who does he think he is. "Oh fuck him." I whisper and Picassio looks me in the eye, like I just found out that somebody died. "Don't cry, bebe." He says.

"Get outta my face idiot. This is nothing compared to what he did to me at prom, and I didn't cry then so I definitely won't cry now!" I exclaim.

"You gotta tell us what happened." Tracy pleaded. "So..." and I went on explaining what happened at prom. Reliving it made it sound like a tragic movie.