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The next morning, Ruthie arrived at school as if nothing happened.
Hair curled to perfection. Mascara sharp enough to cut glass. Uniform crisp. Back straight.
But the moment she stepped into the hallway, every phone in sight tilted subtly in her direction.
Screenshots. Tweets. Edits.
“Bully of the Year.”
“Queen B*tch Ruthie strikes again.”
“Monster in Mascara.”
She saw them all.
She liked some of them.
Retweeted two.
“Wow, thank you for the attention. Char.”
The comment section exploded.
“Gga talaga ‘tong si Ruthie!”*
“Psychopath in plaid.”
“Her parents must be so proud.”
She silenced her phone, shoved it into her blazer, and kept walking like a goddess in exile.
In Room 302
Marian Soler was crying.
The kind of crying that shook her shoulders silently, while two girls tried to comfort her.
“Wala ka namang ginagawang masama…” one of them whispered.
“Gusto ka lang niyang pagtripan, ‘no. Kasi ikaw na ang maganda ngayon.”
Marian shook her head. “Kahapon lang, she told me my audition video was cringey. Tapos sinend niya sa GC ng buong council. Tinawanan nila.”
“She’s sick,” her friend hissed. “Ruthie needs help.”
“No,” Marian said, wiping her eyes. “She needs to be stopped.”
Meanwhile, in the Student Council Office
“May visitor ka,” her secretary said. “Si Sir Genaro. Guidance.”
“Papasukin mo,” Ruthie replied, not looking up from her desk.
The door opened.
“Miss Villanueva,” Sir Genaro began carefully. “About the recent incident with Ms. Asuncion… and now, Ms. Soler—”
“She cried, sir?” Ruthie raised a brow. “That’s not a crime.”
“I’m not here to accuse. But you’ve made enemies. People are… concerned.”
Ruthie smiled, slow and sharp. “People love underdogs, sir. Especially when they bleed on cue.”
The guidance counselor sighed. “You’re brilliant, Ruthie. Don’t waste it proving something.”
She leaned forward. “I’m not proving. I’m protecting.”
He frowned. “Protecting who?”
But she didn’t answer.
Instead, she dismissed him with a look that said we’re done here.
By Lunch, #RuthieVillanuevaIsOverParty was trending.
Someone dug up an old video—Grade 9, a science fair. Ruthie calling out a group of boys for copying their experiment. Her voice was clear, angry, fearless.
But the caption read: “She’s always been toxic.”
Another clip—Grade 10, Ruthie in a debate, slamming the opposing team with ruthless precision. She looked too sharp. Too fierce. Too much.
Caption: “Who hurt her?”
People speculated.
“Probably had a bad childhood.”
“Napahiya sa lalake.”
“Baka jealous lang siya sa mga mas mabait sa kanya.”
They all had theories.
None of them were right.
That night
Ruthie sat in front of her vanity, wiping off her mascara.
Monster in Mascara. That’s what they called her now.
Her fingers paused.
She stared at her reflection. At the redness under her eyes. At the tiny scar near her lip—one no one noticed but her.
It wasn’t always like this.
Once upon a time, she was the kind girl. The one who brought extra snacks. The one who offered her umbrella. The one who covered for Marian during absences. The one who helped Joy during their group thesis kahit hindi niya dapat gawain.
Until…
She leaned closer to the mirror, her voice a whisper.
“They wanted me to stay kind even when they didn’t.”
Because the moment she stood up for herself…
She was branded cold.
The moment she pointed out truth…
She was called cruel.
The moment she refused to be quiet…
They made her the villain.
Flashback – One Year Ago
“Ruthie, wag mo na silang awayin,” Joy pleaded. “Hayaan mo na si Marian. Hindi niya sinasadya.”
“Sinadya niyang sirain ang buong booth natin para sa fair. Nakangiti pa siya habang pinupunit 'yung mga posters!”
“But she said sorry…”
“Sorry doesn’t fix sabotage,” Ruthie said, her voice shaking with fury.
And Joy?
Joy walked away.
Left Ruthie to pick up the pieces. Alone.
Present Day
Ruthie checked her messages. Dozens of them.
Some hate.
Some praise.
Some fake concern.
She scrolled past them all until she saw one name: Jay Armada.
Her finger hovered over the notification.
“Saw your post. You okay?”
A pause.
Then another message.
“You know they don’t know the whole story, right?”
For the first time that day, Ruthie exhaled.
Because Jay?
Jay was there when the world chose not to be.
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