(Sequel to Insignificant)

You can find the AO3 version of the fanfic here: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25612567 

When everyone looked at Heather Chandler, they saw a mythic bitch. Sometimes it was hard to believe she could even be human.

After all, she wore the color red, the color of blood.

Human concepts such as love and kindness were not to be recognized by her, but rather the only emotions she could feel were hatred and indifference.

Heather Chandler was aware of this, from a very young age. Ever since she could remember, her parents had been telling her the same thing. She could hear her mother now.

"You're a freak. An unwanted burden," her mother would hiss, one hand raised threateningly over Chandler's cheek, other hand yanking her strawberry-blonde locks backward to bare her neck.

Her father had nothing different to say either. In fact, he had nothing to say at all. He was rarely home, if at all. But the rare occasions he did come home, he treated Chandler the same way her mother did.

From a young age, Chandler learned to repress her emotions. To show her true feelings would be weakness, and if there was one thing she did not want to be, it was weak. She had been powerless all her life, and was determined to never be so helpless again.

When she stepped into Westerburg High for the first time, she saw her opportunity. She would never be weak again. If it meant she had to be ruthless, so be it.

Her signature color was red. The color of blood. It was fitting.

Heather Chandler worked alone. She would never again fall into the trap of trusting people. Until she met Heather Duke, the only person she ever truly cared about.

The girl herself was rather plain, nothing very special about her. She was average-looking, with no remarkable attributes to her body. Well, perhaps the implants strapped to her chest were worth considering. But that wasn't what attracted Chandler to Duke.

No, it was her personality. Heather Duke was the only one Chandler found she could relate to. She acted normal on the outside, all smiles and giggles and fun, but there was an emptiness in her vivid green eyes, an emptiness echoed by Chandler every time she looked in the mirror.

She supposed that was what made her notice Duke at first. By then, Chandler had already established her hierarchical power at the top of the social chain at Westerburg. Perhaps, she mused, it could be beneficial to have a follower at her right-hand side. After all, her position of power was already secured. Surely it wouldn't hurt to have someone work with her?

And soon, it wasn't merely Heather Chandler, the mythic bitch, but a new name added. Heather Chandler, the mythic bitch, and Heather Duke, the bulimic.

It wasn't hard to sway Duke over to her side. It started with Chandler giving Duke subtle compliments here and there, until she worked her way up to inviting Duke to hang out at her place.

Of course, the poor girl was rather confused at first. Why was Heather Chandler, the most powerful person in Westerburg High, paying Heather Duke, a practical nobody, any attention?

She would never understand the answer to this question.

It wasn't long before Heather Duke had secured her place at Heather Chandler's right hand, as second-in-line to the throne.

For a while it was just the two, Heather Chandler and Heather Duke, green and red, in complete control over the students of Westerburg. Until one day, Heather Duke brought up the possibility of adding a third member to their clique.

"I know this girl. Her name's McNamara. She'd be a really good addition to our group," Heather Duke commented one day. Initially, Chandler hadn't liked the idea. She wanted things to be just as they were, with only the two of them. But then she realized she was growing too attached to Duke. She had become what she had so feared, weak. She could not allow it.

"Fine, I'll check her out," Chandler conceded. From now on, she'd have to keep her distance from Duke.

In a way it worked, but Duke was obviously hurt and confused. Initially, the two of them had been the best of friends, but now it seemed as though Chandler wanted nothing to do with her. Whenever Duke tried to talk to Chandler, she only got answers of "shut up, Heather!" back, or Chandler just ignored her altogether.

It pained Chandler to stay away from the girl she liked so much (perhaps more than she'd like to admit, but she didn't want to go there). However, she knew that sacrifices were necessary. If anyone else sensed her weakness, she'd be knocked down the social caste faster than you could say "Bell Jar".

But one thing Chandler could not deny was that Duke had been right. Heather McNamara was a good addition to their clique. She was sweet and naïve, easy for Chandler to manipulate. She seemed to have no real personality, going along with everything Chandler said like a mindless doll. This was a good thing, for Chandler didn't find herself feeling any sort of affection or attachment to this girl.

Now, there was one new name to the Heathers group. Heather Chandler, the mythic bitch, Heather Duke, the bulimic, and Heather McNamara, the rich girl. Red, green, yellow.

Finally, Heather Chandler had everything she had worked so hard for. She was influential, revered by those around her, drunk on power. She would never be weak again. And if she felt a pang in her chest whenever she saw the lonely look on Duke's face every time she was shunned, what did it matter?

She was finally powerful.

My first Heathers request! So exciting! So sorry this took me so long to answer, I hope you enjoy it!

-Mari <3

Heather Duke Masterlist

Heathers Masterlist

Warnings: Fluff, Swearing, Mentions of mental health & homophobia

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- Heather is a pretty insecure person although she doesn’t let it show

- She was living in Heather Chandler’s shadow and being treated like shit before she died

- If you guys were together before Heather Chandler’s death, then you guys would often have dates at the local cafe or at the library (if you like to read).