ＤＥＳＩＲＥＥ

The weeks leading up to the Foundation Day were supposed to be mine.

All I wanted was to make my mother proud. She would be attending the event, and everything had to be perfect.

She had to see that I was more than just her heir to Dream Catcher. I was her daughter, capable of doing something right.

But fate had its own cruel plans.

The theater director announced a solo audition, claiming no one from our group perfectly fit the main role. 

After all the work I had put in, I didn't expect to be forced back into competition.

I was exhausted, physically and mentally, having to prove myself again and again. It felt like no matter how much I gave, it was never enough.

Then, of course, Audrey got the role.

Audrey—sweet, innocent Audrey—floated through the audition like it was made for her.

The judges adored her. And I was relegated to a supporting role.

The sting of disappointment was sharp, but I buried it. My mother's face flashed in my mind—her disapproval, her icy words.

It'll disappoint her, but I forced a smile and acted unbothered. 

A perfect mask.

As if that wasn't enough, Jaclyn decided to make her move.

She had been simmering ever since I backed out of the group audition for the Foundation Day play.

Saying I didn't even respect our group.

Her pride wouldn't let it go, and she picked her moment with precision—the hallway between classes, crowded with curious ears.

"So you're just going to ignore me now?" Jaclyn's voice rang out, loud enough to halt conversations.

"Running away again, Desiree? That's what you're best at, isn't it?"

I kept walking, my steps steady, but I could feel the weight of their stares. My hands clenched at my sides.

Stay calm. She's testing you.

But Jaclyn wasn't done.

"What's the matter? Are you too good for the group now, or is it because of those nasty little rumors? Like mother, like daughter, right?"

The mention of my mother's name hit like a cold knife. I froze mid-step, then turned, my expression neutral but my voice laced with warning.

"Careful, Jaclyn."

She smirked, stepping closer.

"Oh, did I hit a nerve? Poor little Desiree, always striving for Mommy's approval. But everyone knows the truth about your family. Maybe it's time people saw the real you."

The crowd buzzed, whispers spreading. For a moment, the walls seemed to close in.

My reputation—the one thing I couldn't afford to lose—hung by a thread.

Before I could respond, Wallace appeared, slipping into the scene like he belonged there.

"Des, there you are. Been looking for you."

His casual grin belied the tension in the air as if he hadn't just walked into the middle of a war zone.

He leaned toward me, his voice low but steady. "You're a lot stronger than people give you credit for. Don't let her get into you, okay?"

I blinked, my head still spinning from Jaclyn's words.

I searched his face, unsure if he was mocking me or if he had heard all the ugly things said. But his eyes held nothing but sincerity.

Without waiting for a reply, he shifted the conversation.

"Anyway, I've got the main role." He shrugged. "How about you? You still planning on stealing the show?"

His words caught me off guard. I didn't know how to respond to someone being... kind.

Especially Wallace, of all people.

"Uh... no," I muttered, barely audible.

But he didn't seem to need more. "Well, that's alright."

He gave me a quick, reassuring nod before glancing at Jaclyn and the rest of the crowd. His glare was a clear warning to back off.

Surprisingly, Jaclyn stayed silent, glaring before storming off.

The hallway emptied, leaving just the two of us.

Wallace's words echoed in my mind. Did he mean it?

๋࣭ °࣪ ִ⭑․𓃠⭒˚.• ݁

Later in the afternoon, I stopped Jacklyn from leaving and waited until the rest of our classmates left the room.

Confrontations were best handled in isolation, away from prying eyes and meddling whispers.

"What do you want? Come to sulk, Desiree?" she taunted, leaning back in her chair with feigned ease. "Or maybe you're here to cry about your feelings?"

I smiled, the kind of smile that didn't reach my eyes. "Actually, I came to thank you."

Her smirk faltered. "Thank me?"

"Yes," I said softly. "For reminding everyone just how small you really are."

Her smug facade cracked, but she recovered quickly, scoffing.

"Oh, please. I'm the only one here willing to call you out. Everyone else is too scared to admit what a fraud you are."

"Is that what you think?" I tilted my head, my tone turning thoughtful. "Or is that what you hope?"

She stiffened, but I didn't let her respond. I stepped closer, lowering my voice.

"You see, Jaclyn, I don't need to prove anything to anyone—not to them, and certainly not to you. But you..."

I let my gaze drift over her, sharp and assessing.

"You need them to believe you matter. That's why you scream so loudly, why you claw for attention. Because deep down, you know you're replaceable...just like your mother."

Her jaw tightened, and her grip on her phone faltered.

"But you made one critical mistake today."

I leaned in just enough to invade her space.

"You thought humiliating me would elevate you. Instead, you've shown everyone how desperate and sloppy you are. Now they're whispering about you—how sad it is that Jaclyn's only weapon is a cheap shot."

"That's not true," she snapped, standing up.

"Believe what you like," I said, calm but cutting. "But you've made it easier for me to show them who you really are—a petty, insecure girl who lashes out because she has nothing else to offer."

Her face flushed with anger, but I wasn't done.

I took another step closer, forcing her to lean back as I loomed over her.

"And here's the thing, Jaclyn... I don't need to destroy you. You're doing a fine job of that all on your own. But if you ever cross me like that again..."

I smiled sweetly, my voice dropping to a chilling whisper.

"I'll make sure there's nothing left of you to salvage."

Her lips parted, but no words came out.

I straightened, smoothing my blazer.

"This conversation stays between us," I said, turning to leave.

I didn't look back, but I felt her trembling fury. Jaclyn wouldn't dare challenge me again.

But as the adrenaline ebbed, his face crept into my thoughts. Wallace.

Would he still look at me with that infuriating kindness if he saw this side of me?

If he knew how calculated, how ruthless I could be?

Would he still treat me the same? Or would he, like everyone else, see only the darkness and turn away?

Worse... would he find Audrey better than me? Someone softer, someone less broken?

The questions gnawed at me no matter how I tried shoving them aside.

Success requires sacrifices.

Even if one of those sacrifices was the person you wished you could be.

๋࣭ °࣪ ִ⭑․𓃠⭒˚.• ݁

The next day, I was caught off guard when the theater director informed me I'd secured the lead role.

I should have felt triumphant. This was it, the one achievement that might finally make my mother proud.

But instead of elation, there was only a hollow ache, because I knew this victory wasn't mine to claim.

I hadn't earned it. Not like this.

After class, Audrey's friends cornered me in the empty rehearsal room. Their anger hit me like a storm, their voices cutting through the silence.

"Did you know?" Carrie spat, her arms crossed tightly over her chest. "Did you know someone was going to pull Audrey out of the role for you?"

My heart sank. "What are you talking about?"

Carrie's eyes narrowed. "Don't play dumb. It's all over the school. Your mom pulled strings to get you the part. Audrey needed this for her scholarship, and now—"

"I didn't—" I began, my voice trembling, but her friends weren't listening.

"Of course, you didn't," another friend sneered. "Because Desiree Hart always gets what she wants, right? Who cares about anyone else?"

Before I could say anything, Audrey arrived, silencing them with a gentle wave of her hand.

I braced myself for her anger. But she didn't leave with her friends. She stayed, her expression unreadable.

"You know," she began softly, not meeting my eyes, "I've always admired you, Desiree. Ever since I transferred here, I thought you were so sweet, so polite, always helping everyone."

She gave a weak smile, though it didn't reach her eyes.

"I wanted to be your friend. But I was scared. I mean, how could someone like me—awkward, clumsy, barely holding onto my scholarship—ever be good enough to stand beside someone like you?"

I stared at her, stunned.

Audrey took a deep breath.

"I know this isn't your fault. My father always says we can't blame others for the consequences of someone else's choices. And I don't blame you. But..."

Her gaze finally met mine, piercing.

"If you wanted this—if you asked for it—then I hope it was worth it."

She didn't wait for a reply. She turned and walked away, leaving me with the weight of her words.

It wasn't until later that I learned the truth: one of the teachers, a loyal ally of my mother, had manipulated the selection process. Audrey had already earned the role fairly, but he had ensured it was handed to me instead.

I knew what I had to do.

When I confronted my mother, she barely looked up from her paperwork. Her dismissal stung, but I pressed on.

"Mom, I think Audrey should have the role," I said, my voice trembling but firm.

Her eyes finally met mine, cold and unyielding.

"What nonsense is this?"

"It's unfair," I said, my words spilling out in a rush. "She needs this role for her scholarship. I don't. Please, I think—"

"Enough," she snapped, her voice sharp as a whip. "Do you hear yourself, Desiree? You think this is about fairness? The world doesn't care about fairness. You take what you're given, or someone else will. You are my daughter. Start acting like it."

Her words cut deep, silencing me. I nodded, as I always did, and left her office feeling defeated.

But I couldn't let it end there.

I went to the teacher responsible and asked him to let Audrey back into the play. He agreed—but only with a compromise.

Audrey would sing backstage, while I lip-synced her voice on stage.

Audrey accepted the arrangement reluctantly. For her scholarship, she had no choice.

But each rehearsal was a reminder of how far I'd fallen from the person I once thought I could be.

One evening, during a critical scene, I found myself face-to-face with Wallace, my stage partner.

The director demanded emotion—longing, vulnerability, love.

I froze.

How could I fake what I felt so deeply?

Every time I looked at him, my heart clenched with a mixture of hope and despair.

He deserved better. Better than this façade, better than me.

Later that night, I sat in my room as the weight of everything pressed down on me.

Audrey's kindness, Wallace's unwavering patience...it only magnified the darkness within me.

I thought of Audrey. Sweet, pure, unbroken Audrey. She was everything I wasn't.

She wouldn't hurt him, wouldn't drag him into the darkness I lived in.

Wallace deserved someone like her.

Not me. Never me.

The decision solidified in my chest like ice.

For his sake, I had to let him go.

It was the only way to ensure he would be free...

Free from the monster I feared I was becoming.

☀༉‧

🍂 Things are definitely getting real for Desiree.

How much further do you think she'll go to prove herself?

Also, what does Wallace really see when he looks at Desiree?

I'm dying to know what you think. Drop your thoughts in the comments, and get ready for what's coming!!

P.S. I see you too lovely silent readers 👀 — you're much appreciated!

__melodyshhh 𓇢𓆸