summary: AU. SasuSaku. There are those people, in every privileged boarding school, who are incredibly beautiful, deviously manipulative and have unlimited access to everything; everyone wants to be those people. I was their queen. Until now. "Welcome to Loser Club, gorgeous."

the note: prepare for the bullshit, please. this is my newest creation and I hope this time it will roll and rock and other shit. also, it has an unexpected twist – so don't you think right now "gosh, another stupid generic story about high-school". well, you can think that after you will read the chapter. when your true opinions can be formed. now, go on – read.

disclaimer: do not own.

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crazy planet
—ONE: "ouch!" is an appropriate thing to say when you hit rock-bottom

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I tapped the commercial back in September, before anything had happened, and promptly forgot about it – if I remembered every little commercial or photoshoot I had my head would have cracked a long time ago as I was booked years ahead – but now it feels like my last modeling job. A week ago, it started running and, suddenly, I was everywhere. Again. Just like old times.

As if.

Now here, in my new dorm, I sat on the edge of my single-bed, long fingers entwined so tight my knuckles turned white, trying to force myself press the off-button on the TV, the volume of which was turned down to mute. I stared at myself on the screen, the image while wasn't wobbly painted the commercial green, frantically trying to find any difference between on-the-screen-me and currect-loser-me.

Unfortunately there was none. I am still a model – tall, thin, and beautiful. Like all members of my family the on-the-screen-me is super-poised and maintaining her cool – the sort of cool that can't acquire by being part of in-crowd or wearing the latest Marc Jacobs designs, you have to be born with my sort of every-guy-wants-and-every-girl-wants-to-be cool – as she strolls down the curved street in her sky-high heels and supertight black dress promoting the new sweet flower-based perfume and nearly breaking necks.

In moments, I knew, the on-screen me would smile deliciously, cover her mouth flirtatiously and barely whisper, as if it is a secret, the name of the perfume she is selling; but I didn't wait for that. Instead, I scrambled the pieces of my nostalgia and clinched onto my drifting pride, so I picked up the remote and turned the on-screen-me off, and headed out of the door.

***

"I am okay. I am okay. I am okay. I am okay…" It's a mantra I keep repeating and it is imprinted forever in my mind, so I scarcely now notice when I say it. There is no denying it. Things are a completely shit and reluctantly I wonder if my life would have been easier right now, and my friends would have stayed by me, if I wasn't a total controlling bitch to everyone before.

Before.

God, I hate that word now. It's making my top ten hated words of all time; number three, perhaps, right under "hip" and "neat", and above "princess".

The hot water is running, in long continuous strides, down my pale bare back; there is a queer intimacy of all this – the thick steam that whirs under the bright lights of bulbs, the droplets of water that slid down the chilled mirror and the complete whiteness of the bathroom.

The only thing I am missing to become a porno star is French-tips and a guy that is packing big.

But really what makes me uncomfortable is that the bathroom is so bare. There are no windows or big bathtubs. Only a shower, a toilet and a sink. It felt like I am in prison but I might as well be. The only reason why I wasn't swept by broom of harsh justice like the rest of my family was because our family lawyer was able to convince the judge that neither me nor my mother nor my sister were involved in my father's schemes.

And I, being a sixteen-year-old minor, should not face any consequences while my mother suffered by being stripped of all of her assets and forced to work – and mind me she is not as dewy as she was twenty years ago when she was a famous swimsuit model. My sister, I think, suffered the most. She got kicked out of her dream university and now she plans apply to state, as it is not too late to do that, and work part-time as a waitress.

Frankly the Dean was merciful due to my incredible unblemished record, and the fact that I am a legacy after all didn't hurt, and put my on full scholarship so I would be able to stay in school as mother had no resources to pay for it.

I'm a scholarship student.

Ugh.

I elongated my neck, tilting the heavy head backwards, and let the warmth of water consume me. Until three months ago I was living the perfect life. I was born into old-money privileged family in which good-looks were as natural to have as having skin over your flesh. My father supplied the family thoroughly and we got all of our heart's desires.

Potentially unlimited access to money, unsupervised wild parties from dusk to dawn, the latest fashion trends my closet weeks before the official release, neglecting parenting that allowed bulbby before noon, a laid out path to the best universities.

Life could not be better.

I was a high-fashion model who kept the entire school in her iron fist by being from the one of the oldest families and in the best dorm in the Academy – Sunagakure. I liked to think of myself as the Queen Victoria-esquire being the Queen myself and all.

Guess karma does exist and it bites you in the ass. Hard.

The whole shebang had started roughly three months ago. Around that time police started visiting my father frequently and ever more than them our family lawyer did. It wasn't till nearly the end of it some light was shed on the mystery for me.

Father, apparently, had stolen a great deal of money from very angry men who might as well have torches and screamed: 'Burn the witch!' After the cat crawled its way out of the bag all the secrecy got blown up into our superbly bone-structured faces. My mother was not called to be on the many comities she usually participated, my father flashed all over the papers in hand-cuffs and my sister went into deep depression.

I got put down like a dog.

The moment my social armor cracked the power-hungry vixens I kept around as my posse rebelled against me and managed to overthrow me. I found no comfort in either my boyfriend or my roommate, and after the whole scholarship news I knew what was coming.

It still hurt when it did.

The new Queen Bee – a total unclassy skank that had her eyes set on my place for years – told me to pack up and leave my current dorm. It felt like I was leaving home – Sunagakure was one of the few places that I loved, and the power that being one of the Sunagakure girls was intoxicating and I got so addicted over the years that it had set in my bones.

I had no idea how to survive outside of the privileged, glossy and intimidating world. Holly mother of fuck was I in big shit.

Once outside of the bathroom – my long hair still dump and pulled into a high ponytail and figure clad in the Gant patterned cashmere dress – I bit my lip and pushed my phone into the space between my black riding-boots and the flesh of my shin, as there was enough space in between those, just in case; you never know when you are going to need that Sidekick.

Careful enough not to wake my new roommate, a weird girl who is obsessed with chemistry, I am not kidding here, I sneaked out stealthy. It was an insanely early hour but I have to get out. There is some unfinished business that I have.

***

It's rather odd to be not part of something. I suppose I'm still on the horse-riding team and still a student of one of the most prestigious schools in the whole county, but what I am not is a part of the most respected dorm in the Academy; I am not part of the cool-kids table now.

I suppose it matters little to a person who is less self-absorbed than me but that would be a tiny percentage of this school – here, our status is more important than anything.

Mine is crawling on the dirty floor and being stepped on shamelessly.

In the early moments before dawn I creep about the campus shaking from the late-autumn chill even though my coat if wool and knee-length. I am coming back from my 'Mission Impossible'. A few moments earlier I left my Konohagakure dorm and sneaked into my previous one. I slid into the common reading room and took an extremely precious book that rightfully belongs to me.

Alright, I stole. Whatever. The only thing it says about my character is that I am like my father.

The new Queen Bee has no idea about it, in fact, only two people know about it – me and my used-to-be best friend. The book itself matters not, but it has a hollow compartment in which a small USB lies that holds all the dirt on anyone who matters in this school – and that is a lot of people.

Who said revenge is meaningless?

"What are you doing here?" A voice asks and I turn on my heels, eyes wide like a deer caught in traffic.

Before me in all his six-feet-five tall glory a guy stands; I feel rather intimidated and with my five-feet-eleven divine tallness it's hard to scare me shitless – he managed somehow. "Oh God. You scared me. I thought you were somebody important."

I caught my tongue immediately. Shit. Years of being a bitch does thing to people – I started to believe I was indivisible. But wasn't. Neither physically nor socially and this guy clearly can hurt me both ways. A frown quickly crossed his features but then his face returned to its impassive state.

He is not cute, neither is he average. Calling him beautiful is a far stretch but there is certain eerie handsomeness about him; perhaps it's the strong angles, or the long scar on his right cheek, or his uneasy black eyes but he is oddly appealing in the sense he is not beautiful. Not perfect. I suppose he is simply not me; and that is good.

"Haruno Sakura, right?" His voice isn't smooth and boyish, it's deep and crispy and totally him; I find him creepier by the second. "I do believe you have what I need the most."

Oh. My. God. He's not about to—

"I am making you a proposition you cannot refuse."

He did. How lame.

***

the ending note: there is certain vanity and shallowness in my crazy planet!Sakura. And I think I like it.

And this is not going to be too complicated. A rather normal-length fic with some mystery on the side, perhaps. I appologise for grammar mistakes – I will fix this later.

Please comment via review. :)