Hey guys! So tonight's episode left me not happy, because I adore Imogen and not Eli/Clare (not anymore). Eli just made me really mad, so I was thinking that Fiona and Imogen would be SO hot together, and I was planning on making this more... happy, but it turned out pretty, dark. Dark for me, at least. I'm trying to decide if this is the greatest thing I've written for fanfiction, or the worst... I kind of like it. It kind of captures Imogen having histrionic personality disorder to a degree, with some of the symptoms, but I feel like this is a step further than that. Please let me know what you think!

Imogen Moreno wasn't heartbroken, no, she couldn't be. It may have been joyful to lust off of Elijah Goldsworthy, but he was still in love with Clare. That wasn't a stab in the chest to Imogen, was it? Oh no, of course not. She was fine. She couldn't be sad. To let anyone see her upset would be social suicide for her. Imogen had to keep it up; she had to play the part, for Imogen still had to play Clara. Clara attracted new love interests in minutes, it seemed, and Imogen wasn't going to quit there.

To say she took her role serious was an understatement. She had to live the role, despite her feelings. She had to be the manipulative and forceful girl that she had studied to be. Giving up would mean failure. Giving up would mean no attention, and that was the one thing she needed. Attention was what she desired more than anything.

Stepping out of the drama classroom, she stood tall in the hallway, hearing the pitter-patter of footsteps surrounding her. She waited, and a bell rung, yet she still stood. Imogen was waiting, for a certain someone. That someone would be Clara's next victim.

A click of heels echoed down the hallway, shuffling quickly on the floor. "Imogen," the physique noted, "What are you doing out here so late? Class started like, five minutes ago," she was almost out of breath, Imogen noticed, as she looked up at her. "Oh, Fiona Coyne, it's so great that you're directing this play, you know," Imogen said, stepping forward, closer to Fiona.

Fiona wrinkled her nose, "Uhm, thanks, but I kind of need to get to class," she told the girl in front of her, who had jumped in front of her, trapping her against a row of lockers. "What are you doing?" Fiona's breath went from tired out to nervous pants, and she reached a manicured hand to push Imogen's arm away.

"I don't think so, Miss. Coyne," Imogen said, feeling Clara take over her. She reached her hand around Fiona's neck, carefully brushing her fingers over her hair. "I always get what I want," she informed the taller girl. Fiona's body shook with nerves, "Imogen, what do you want?" she begged, her voice cracking.

Imogen smirked, "I'm not Imogen, Fiona. I'm Clara, didn't you know that?" her other arm reached around Fiona's slender waist, pulling her close. "I know what you want," she whispered in Fiona's ear. "Just let me help you," Imogen's hand ran from Fiona's hair to under her chin, pulling her face to hers.

"Imogen, stop," Fiona mumbled, eyes closed, as Imogen brought there lips together. The kiss was short, but prompted Fiona to relax, to give in to the power of Clara. Imogen slid her glasses off her face, and let them hit the ground. She then brought the heel of her dark combat boot up and crushed them slowly; grinning in the satisfaction that she was destroying them.

She looked at Fiona, and a look of confusion and horror was on her face, "Imogen was getting in the way," she explained, leaning up to kiss the blue-eyed girl roughly. She pulled her even closer, taking Fiona's lip between her teeth. Fiona soon had given in, letting their tongues collide, and fight for dominance.

A soft moan was heard from Fiona, and Imogen pushed her against the lockers, connecting their mouths together and reached a hand down to Fiona's leg, brushing her fingertips over her soft skin. Fiona's body shivered, as she pulled the smaller girl closer to her, and held a hand on her back, keeping her close.

Imogen was getting Fiona Coyne right where she wanted her to be. Falling for every little trap. Imogen pulled away, looking at the girl's swollen lips. She leaned down, kissing the girl's neck softly, earning another soft moan from Fiona, before she pulled away, and took a step back. Their eyes met, and Fiona's were full of lust. Both girls were breathing heavily, and Fiona reached out to Imogen. "Stop it Fiona," she demanded, She kicked the broken glasses down the hall, and turned to leave, "This meant nothing," she looked over her shoulder, and glared at Fiona, "Nothing," she spat, repeating herself, and walking away.

And just like that, a monster was created. Imogen Moreno was no longer Imogen Moreno. Imogen Moreno was now Clara Edwin.