meow says the cat

[Irina Ivanov]

On the other side of this debacle, Molly was giving it all into making herself the 'winner'. Of course, as a tiny bee, compared to a cat, Molly stood little to no chance. Even the softest kitten could take down a queen bee. The most Molly could give Fleurette was a brief sting.

Actually, there was that tiny chance the sting could turn into an infection. But that chance was so little, if barely existed.

Anyways, Molly didn't change her expression, but her grip around her phone tightened, and she ended up dying in-game, from a monster she could have easily dealt with, as well. At that point, Molly decided that this was no time for games, despite what Fleurette was doing. Still keeping her phone open as to prevent the recording stopping, Molly reluctantly turned her head to Fleurette, keeping an aloof face. Or atleast, trying to. It was working as well as her attempt in trying not to appear like she wanted to punch Fleurette.

If it was one thing that Molly could think as good, it was that Fleurette's words are coming off as vile all on its own. But that benefit was covered up completely by a surge of emotions. This time, Molly's tone as lower, slower, and some of her words were even cracked. That was genuine. That wasn't an act to appeal to those who would see the recording.

"Telling m-me to see a p-psychologist? Doesn't sound like I-I'm the only person victimising me. And besides, I don't need to. I-I'm not a cr-cry-crybaby who cuts herself, or some id-idiot drow-drowning themselves in self-pity. A-And, someone who plays the v-victim card, they don't need to see a s-shrink.....If anything, aren't you the abnormal one?"

I don't need to see a psychologist. She's lying! Only people who are sickos go to a psychologist. I'm perfectly healthy. She's lying, certainly.

Dang it. Her vision was blurring up, she'll have to go to a bathroom soon. Not yet.

[Lilith]

Oh, Molly made a tiny mistake. Fleurette, as the good girl that she was, knew that she had to correct it. Still looking at her phone, she heard the wavering in Molly's voice. Sounded like she was about to cry, and Fleurette didn't feel good about that.

It's not that she was feeling bad, it's that she felt it was wrong that she didn't feel bad. It was complicated. On one hand, she wanted to feel bad, but on the other, she couldn't bring herself to feel guilty of the hings she had said because in the end, Molly had it coming. She croaked a sentence, Fleurette just needed to let Molly know. Perhaps she could tone down her pedantic ways in the future, but right now, she didn't think about it too much.

"A shrink is a psychiatrist, just so you know."

Fleurette couldn't remember when she became pedant. Was she always like this? Did she always feel the need to correct people on petty things? Yeah, always. It was a personality trait. She just couldn't resist correcting others, whether it was in or out of her lane. She pointed her handbag on the ground with her left hand while her right hand was holding her phone up. Fleurette balanced what she said earlier with a possible act of kindness, but it could also be considered condescending if you wanted to.

"I got tissues in my bag, do you need them?"

[Irina Ivanov]

"I d-don't want them."

Molly replied, with an aggressive, but at the same time, cracking tone. Like viciously denying something she really needed. If this was anybody but Fleurette, Molly would have put on a upbeat tone, and taken it cheerfully. But Fleurette? No. Her pride hasn't gone down the drain yet. Not enough to accept being mocked.

The most noticeable thing was that once again, Molly turned her head away. This time, it was not out of a lack of bravery, but from pride. Her voice was cracking up, and that's all she wanted to show. Not the red face, not the snot that was beginning to run out her nose, not the hands shaking.

"Yeah, and I d-don't care about the d-difference right n-now. They treat s-sickos all the s-same."

One talked to the sicko (or weakling), and the other one drugged them up. Same thing anyways. Even adults get it wrong, so it was stupid to correct a girl. A girl that was better than that catty frog. And yet, the queen bee was still getting beaten. Because of course, a bee was still a bee, nothing important. A bee didn’t deserve to go to a psychologist. They just die.

Molly may not have wanted the tissues, but she definitely needed it. Grappling her phone like a lifeline (Well, for her, it kinda was at the moment. The phone was still recording.), and browsing through random photos since she no longer had the mind to play games, Molly looked just stared blankly, while looking at the many photos of herself. And then, her vision blurred more than ever. And then, it suddenly, it became very hard to breathe.

Boiling hot tears oozed out of her eyes, and she was unable to stop it. Molly thought that was so pathetic. Crying from a sentence and a dark line of thought alone. Her gasps sounded almost like laughing. Laughing at herself. That just made the tears flow out even more.

She had to go.

[Lilith]

Fleurette started to bend down and reach for her handbag. Molly obviously needed Fleurette's tissues even if she had denied them. She knew what she said hurt her, but why was she taking it so badly? It was strange, but at the same time, she expected nothing less from Molly. She unzipped her bag and pulled the little tissues packet. There was a sunflower and a couple of butterflies on the packaging, but that didn't change the fact it was basically paper toilet for nose.

It was a genuine act of kindness. Or at least, Fleurette thought it was. It might have been pity, but in her mind, the queen of cats was helping another queen to get her shit together. She didn't know Molly was a tiny ball of emotion ready to explode, but apparently she was and now big tears were running down her cheeks. She looked like a lost child in a mall looking for her mom, it was kinda pathetic but Fleurette couldn't resist the urge to help her even if she had caused the problem.

Fleurette considered giving her only one tissue, but she had more at homes. Molly didn't look like she had any on her and she didn't want someone to see her like this while walking away. Even if she didn't care about Molly's reputation and her pseudo-following, she still didn't want her humiliated. The catfight was over, and the bee had lose. Maybe, she could sting again, but bees could only sting once. Anyways, the queen presented a kitten to the bee, trying to make amend.

"Take it," she put the tissues under Molly's nose, "I'm being serious, you know better than this, you don't want someone to see you like this, right?."

[Irina Ivanov]

Everyone had a topic that was a sore spot for them, some, it was their life back home, some, it was their past, for Molly, it was pretty much anything that questioned her. She hated being compared to those....morons, who try and get the psychologist's on their side, while whining about trivial issues caused by themselves. But perhaps, she was one of those morons, and that hit her hard. She wasn't supposed to be weak, she had to be the queen bee, the one everyone looked up to! Or at least, never looked down at.

Molly hesitated for a while, not reacting to the wad of tissues under her nose. Was this a sign of kindness, or just...pity? Molly didn't mind being on the victim side sometimes, but she was NOT taking something from someone who just won. Maybe it was fair sportsmanship, but Molly wasn't a graceful loser. Her pride hadn't sunk that lo-

With those recent thoughts, Molly's tears seemed to worsen, her cheeks reddened, and it took a lot of sniffing to prevent snot from dripping out. Didn’t matter if she wanted it or not, Molly needed it. Taking (nearly snatching) the tissue and blowing her nose, Molly looked away from Fleurette. The queen bee was weak, taking a sign of pity from the winner, and she wasn’t happy with herself at all. But she needed the tissues.
“....T-thanks.”

Molly stayed like that for a while, in her weepy and shameful state, in semi-gratefulness towards Fleurette. Then, she stood up. The tissues helped, but it wasn’t like Molly was letting it all out, that would be embarrassing, to do that in front of Fleurette. Besides, she needed to wash her face. Her makeup was coming off, and if a teacher saw it, she would be in trouble. Molly picked up her bag, and her phone.

“A-again, thanks. I’m-I’m going. I think I m-might be late. G-goodbye.”

That was a lie. Molly knew she didn’t have training for a while. The encounter with Fleurette wasn’t too long, even if it felt long in the moment. She just wanted to get away. After all, she had to stop the recording away from Fleurette’s eyes, and she also had to clean herself up.

Like a sore loser, Molly walked away from Fleurette. The conversation was over.

[Lilith]

"..."

What else was there to (not) say? She went back to her phone and waited for the kid that needed help in French to come around.

((Fleurette is Online))

[Irina Ivanov]

That calm, unemotional strolling away turned into a more brisk walk, and once Molly closed the door behind her, it turned into a run. Molly didn't know why, but she wanted to get away from Fleurette, desperately. That catty...girl wasn't going to follow her, of course, but Molly knew it was more then wanting to just get away from someone who hurt her. It was also getting away from that experience, that memory, and how she behaved in there. So she was running away from herself as well.

Someone might have said sorry, have made up, maybe have moved the topic to another thing, maybe even have taken Fleurette's advice. Someone brave. Someone who was good. Who was likeable.

Molly wasn't that girl.

Molly had moved to the empty woman's bathroom. It was a rather disturbing place when there was no one but her. The toilets and ventilations made sounds, sure, but the only human sounds she could hear were her sobs and foorsteps. It felt like she was in another world, where no one could distract or walk in on her. That was a good thing.

Wait, just one more thing.

She had to do this. She had to, before anyone found out. The video wasn't long, she just needed to edit it slightly, or in other words, become a spin doctor. She didn't have too much time, but fifteen minutes was enough, surely. Molly cropped out some uh...parts that made her less sweet. After all, people couldn't know that Molly was a queen bee who was nothing but bitter. And done. Now time to go onto her account...

And posted. With a description as well.

There. It was done. That audio recording was sent.

Now Molly could cry in peace for the next ten minutes.

((Molly McKenzie: PREGAME END))
((Molly McKeznie continued in A Not So Beautiful Beach))