𝒱 ⠀ .

“  ⠀Are we going to the Prom?  ⠀ Or to Hell?  ⠀…

𝐕eronica 𝑆awyer from Heathers ,    ⠀ written by katarina (she, they) ,    ⠀ 21+    ⠀ ;   ⠀ insp.   ⠀ HEATHERS OFF-BROADWAY (2025)   ⠀ &.   ⠀ HEATHERS (1989) DIR. MICHAEL LEHMANN AND WRITTEN BY DANIEL WATERS.   ⠀ this blog will contain triggering content,   ⠀ all triggers will be tagged “trigger /”

it is a truth universally acknowledged that people don’t really talk to veronica sawyer unless they’re getting something out of it.   ⠀ she knows this, of course. instead of trying to fight it, she’s decided to cling onto the hope that is college: a fresh start.   ⠀ stanford, maybe. brown, if she’s thinking east coast. really, anywhere but here will do.   ⠀ until then, however, she has to suffer through people volunteering themselves as her partner in english projects because they’re convinced that she’s their golden ticket to an a.   ⠀ people like chris lee, who veronica sawyer, frankly, has had just about enough of.

“ wow. good one. ”   ⠀ her brows draw together as she really considers her options.   ⠀ she could stay, doing all the work, and be miserable.   ⠀ (reallllll tempting.   ⠀ also, something that is very much so the Veronica Sawyer thing to do.   ⠀ jeez, she’s got footprints on all of her clothes from the amount of times she’s let people walk all over her.)   ⠀ OR   ⠀ …   ⠀ she could walk away, chest held high.   ⠀ feel bad for like. two seconds.   ⠀ and then get on with her life.

being around effy stonem feels like someone is pulling out every single aspect of yourself that you’ve spent years learning how to suppress.   ⠀ the vitriol and the mess and the view of the flame falling into the trash can and the vomit staining the carpet and   ⠀ —

It’s a high Veronica can’t admit she enjoys without guilt seeping out of her pores:   ⠀ sweat accumulating at parties while she stands hot, suffocating in in the corner while Effy smokes and dances and,   ⠀ at some point in the night,   ⠀ Veronica loses sight of her completely. Loses her.   ⠀ She gathers, after interviewing drunk partygoers and the people out back who got, presumably, a little too high, that she left Veronica high and dry   ⠀ —   ⠀ classic.   ⠀ [HONESTLY,   ⠀ IT WAS SORT OF NAIVE FOR VERONICA TO EXPECT ANYTHING DIFFERENT.]   ⠀ She caught a ride home from some guy,   ⠀ which was nice enough,   ⠀ but the remnants of stale beer and bile have lingered in her mouth all weekend. She can still taste it.

Now,   ⠀ before the bell rings,   ⠀ before first period starts and she feels the natural impulse to bash her head into the wall, she nurses her symptoms with a pre-class smoke break.   ⠀ The naive part of her,   ⠀ the one she can’t quite seem to escape,   ⠀ hoped that Effy wouldn’t show up.   ⠀ She’s not really in the mood for apologies.

as she steps back into the library,   ⠀ she sloughs off her bag, taking her book out. the feigned casualness lasts a moment   ⠀ —   ⠀ two, as veronica takes a pen out of her pencil case,   ⠀ lodging the end between her back teeth, gnawing on the plastic.   ⠀ ALL MOVEMENTS THAT READ:   ⠀ A girl lost in her studies. Or, at least, a girl who is attempting to be.

Her act is short lived, though, as the girl across from her makes a remark not unlike a director yelling:   ⠀ CUT!   ⠀ then proceeding to tell you just how unconvincing your performance really is.   ⠀ her hands begin to wipe the cashmere on her sweater,   ⠀ as if haphazardly rubbing it will make the smell go away instead of imbuing it deeper.   ⠀ “ right. ”   ⠀ The embarrassment she feels in this moment saturates her neck with a red hue.   ⠀ [Honestly, she’s not sure if she’s more upset with herself for not thinking about that or confused with the girl for bringing it up in the first place.   ⠀ Shouldn’t they both be busy?]

“ does it bother you? or are you trying to ask for one? ‘cause either way. you could just say. ”

if there’s one thing that veronica can identify with perfect precision every time:   ⠀ it’s the kind of girl who believes that she should be the highest trophic level of their respective social food chain.   ⠀ she’s learned not to entertain it, though, human nature always comes into play & someone always claws their way to the top.   ⠀ IT’S EASIER FOR SOME THAN FOR OTHERS.   ⠀ veronica sawyer, for example, is not a natural predator. in fact, she isn’t one at all. she’s learned, over time, how to disguise herself, to mask what marks her as prey.   ⠀ and, despite her best efforts, she hasn’t been able to shake off the sense of importance that comes with having been a somebody   ⠀ —   ⠀ with still being a somebody.   ⠀ it’s weird. she’s not a heather anymore,   ⠀ but that doesn’t stop people from seeking out her validation. god, shes sick of it.

fluorescent overhead lighting is eclipsed by the shadow of the girl standing in front of her,   ⠀ taking veronica out of the book sitting in her lap.   ⠀ she considers shutting it, getting up and walking away: but she knows better.   ⠀ SHE’S JUST NOT SURE WHAT ABOUT HER NOW,   ⠀ [New Sheriff, and all that],   ⠀ CONTINUES TO IMPLY THAT SHE WANTS TO MAINTAIN THE SOCIAL HIERARCHY.   ⠀ sometimes she’s afraid there’s something deep within her,   ⠀ something other girls can sense that she cannot. that’s what plagues her nightmares, now.

in the realm of post-grad gigs, she really could have it worse.   ⠀ and, she reasons, at least she’s getting paid[?]   ⠀ corporate life, not unlike college, is an indefinite monotony. the kind of soul-sucking time vortex you accidentally step into without knowing,   ⠀ and you wake up to find 5 years of your life have passed and all you’ve done is answer the phone:   ⠀ [‘i promise. i will deliver your message.’]   ⠀ and stare placidly at your drink during the bi-weekly mandatory company culture happy hour.

but honestly —   ⠀ veronica almost wishes she were experiencing the consistent lows of corporate america instead of whatever fresh hell she’s in right now.   ⠀ FOR STARTERS. HER BOSS? A HUGE DICK.   ⠀ and now, she’s really 2 for 2 in terms of investing in the wrong choice in leadership.

THIS ISN’T THE FIRST TIME THEY’VE ARGUED THIS WEEK, EITHER.   ⠀ the scene tends to play out like this:   ⠀ she voices her opinion on something,   ⠀ he disagrees.   ⠀ she tries to explain,   ⠀ he accuses her of:   ⠀ a) being dramatic,   ⠀ b) raising her voice,   ⠀ c) being a “bad sport”   ⠀ or d) some screwed up combination of the above.   ⠀ and veronica, who is already not particularly great at suppressing her emotions when anger festers,   ⠀ has let her own internal crucible heat to the point of overflow.   ⠀ “ then stop interrupting me. ”

if she had to guess what circle of hell they stood in, she’d figure they were somewhere between gluttony and greed. and, if she could imagine the underworld that orpheus trudged through, it was probably reminiscent of a remington university frat house.

stale beer & the remnants of haphazardly wiped up vomit cling to the ground, molting into a tar-like substance on the concrete floor.   ⠀ poorly-mixed audio of the top 100 hits blares through the speakers and every conversation veronica has had begins with: ‘ so … what’s your major? ’ and ends with ‘ … wanna make out? ’

really, if someone intended to create an eternal punishment for her, they would’ve knocked it out of the park with this.

veronica leans against the wall, bass reverberating through her skull, nursing a warm … something … and Heather Chandler — playing the role of both God and Lucifer in Veronica’s personal Hellscape — stands beside her.   ⠀ SIDE BY SIDE,   ⠀ VERONICA LOOKS LIKE A SULLEN FACSIMILE OF HER FRIEND:   ⠀ clad in heathers clothes, more red than she’d ever voluntarily wear,   ⠀ the dress more form-fitting than anything she’d choose for herself.   ⠀ they fit in with the college girls & veronica fits in with The Heathers,   ⠀ and the idea of all of that is severely fucked.   ⠀ whatever placid,   ⠀ false smile veronica adorned at the beginning of the night has faded into her signature expression of solemnity.