The Pretty Villains Perspective.

Author: MissMwaka

People like me are never meant to be loved. Not in stories, anyway. We're admired. Desired. Envied. Hated. But never chosen. I learned that when I was fourteen and watched every movie ever made. The pretty girls always had perfect hair and cruel smiles. They rolled their eyes at the heroine. They laughed too loudly. They existed only to lose. The heroine was always different. She sat alone by windows. She read books with folded corners. She had messy hair that somehow looked beautiful and eyes that held entire universes. And somehow, despite all logic, the world bent itself around her. Boys crossed oceans for girls who barely looked up from their novels. Meanwhile girls like me stood in the background, polished and predictable, waiting for our inevitable downfall. I knew the rules. I was pretty. Popular. The girl mothers warned their daughters about despite never having met me. So when Eleanor Hart transferred to our school, carrying a stack of books against her chest like a shield, I knew exactly who she was. The protagonist. Everyone else saw a quiet girl. I saw destiny. I watched her gather friends without trying. I watched teachers smile at her differently. I watched the world soften around her edges. And then he arrived. Noah Reyes. The kind of boy stories reserve for girls like Eleanor. Kind eyes. Crooked grin. The sort of face that belonged on the final page of a romance novel. The moment I saw him looking at me, I almost laughed. Because he had the wrong target. I knew how this ended. He would notice Eleanor eventually. He would discover she was unlike other girls. There would be a dance or a rainstorm or some beautifully timed confession. And I would become a footnote. A mistake. A villain. The girl he dated before finding the love of his life. I knew the script by heart. The problem was that Noah didn't seem to know it. And for the first time in my life, the story refused to go where it was supposed to.