Other side of paradise (Jason Dean x reader)

𝐓𝐞𝐧

Veronica handed the mug to JD, or Jason Dean as she still knew him, and opened the door as quietly as possible.  Sleeping on a bed in the middle of the room was Heather Chandler, looking as good as ever, even as she was a mess under the covers with no make up or hair products.  It was a strange sight to see, a Heather not being pulled together.  But Heather still looked like a princess.

"Morning Heather," Veronica called softly.

Surprisingly, that was enough to wake her up.  Heather slowly moved up in her bed, awakening very princess-ily.  

"Veronica, Jesse James, what a surprise," Heather greeted.  "Did you hear about (y/n)'s affection for regurgitation?"

"Heather, I think last night you both said and did things you didn't mean," Veronica said.

"Did we?  And how the hell did you get in here?"

Maybe Heather was smarter than the genius.  She was the first person that day to question the creepy actions.

"Um, Veronica showed me the backdoor.  (y/n) thought you'd have a hangover, so I whipped this up for ya.  It's a family recipe," JD explained.

"What did you do," Heather asked.  "Put a phlegm globber in there or something?  I'm not gonna drink that piss."

"I knew this stuff'd be too intense for her," JD said, looking at Veronica.

"Intense?  Grow up.  I'm not gonna drink it just 'cause you called me chicken."

JD just smirked and gave a small shrug.  Veronica began to walk out, JD following.  Heather sat up to begin getting ready for her day, only for a sharp pain to slice through her brain, with a headache beginning to form.  It wasn't the worst hangover she'd ever had, but this was definitely in the top ten.  It was surprising that someone 16-17 was going to enough parties and drinking so much that she had a ranked list of hangovers.

"Just give me the cup, jerk," Heather demanded.

The two intruders smiled at each other, they had done it.  JD turned around and held the mug out to Heather, who got out of the bed, waltzed over slowly to not have her brain hurt even more, and grabbed the mug.  She ripped off the top and practically chugged the contents, exciting Veronica.  She didn't see the lumpy beans or abnormal color.

Then she coughed.  Then she coughed hard.  Then she began to cough so hard that her whole body was twitching and jerking.  She began to convulse, choking on nothing.  Her body wasn't getting any oxygen, yet she was still forcing it out.  Her esophagus burned, her stomach tingled, and it felt like her brain and arteries were exploding.  Her throat and mouth were coated a familiar electric blue.

She staggered around, before falling on Veronica.

"Corn.... nuts," she managed to say.

Her body went limp, and her eyes rolled back, eyelids lidded.  Her hands slowly unclentched from around Veronica's dark blue blazer, and she collapsed.  But on the way to the floor, her corpse fell right into a glass coffee table.  She hit the floor, glass shards surrounding her like a halo.  JD looked amused, and Veronica gazed at the impact site in horror.

"I just killed my best friend," Veronica muttered, stunned.

"And your sibling's worst enemy.  And someone who was an ass to you," JD pointed out.

Veronica began to feel dizzy, in shock.  Her brain couldn't fully comprehend that she had just committed a murder.  She moved to the large chair that was supposed to go to the now destroyed coffee table.

"What're we gonna tell the cops," JD questioned with a smile.

Veronica glared at the boy, and then back at the body on the floor.

"Fuck it if she can't take a joke, Sarg?"

"The cops... oh god, I can't believe this is my life... I'm gonna have to send my SAT scores to San Quinten instead of Stanford..."

"Hey, at least we got what we wanted," JD stated.

"Got what we wanted?!  It is one thing to want someone out of your life, it is another thing to serve them a wake up call full of drain cleaner!"

"Alright, we did a murder, that's a bad thing.  What of this was... like... a suicide thing," JD suggested.

"A suicide thing?"

"Yeah.  I mean, you can do Heather's handwriting as well as your own, right?  Right?!"

Veronica nodded, and ran over to Heather's desk.  She began to root around in the drawers, and found a notebook.  She ripped out a sheet of paper and pulled a pen out of a pocket, and ran over to the dresser next to JD.

"'You may think what I've done was shocking...'" Veronica spoke.

"'To me, though, suicide is the logical answer to the myriad of problems life has given me,'" JD joined in.

"That's good, but Heather would never use the word 'myriad.'"

"This is the last thing she'll ever write, she'd want to get in as many fifty cent words as possible!"

"Yeah, but she missed the word 'myriad' on the vocab test last week," Veronica informed him.

"It only proves my point more," JD exclaimed.  "The word is a badge for her failures at school!"

"Oh, okay... you're probably right..." Veronica trailed off.  "'People think that just because you're beautiful and popular, life is easy and fun.  No one understood.  I had feelings too.'"

"'I die knowing no one knew the real me,'" JD finished.

"That's good," Veronica sighed.  "Have you done this before?"

JD just chuckled, and Veronica smiled at her own joke.  She stood up and placed the note in the hand of the deceased, and the two hurried out of the house.  Mr. and Mrs. Chandler would get home soon, and they didn't want to be there when it happened.  As they ran around to the front of the house trying to seem as unsuspicious as possible, Veronica began to regret wearing the blue blazer that contrasted the homes and greenery around them.  She was terrified of getting caught.

JD on the other hand, he felt like a hero.  She had made you upset, and it was easy to tell that this wasn't the first time.  And now she could never hurt you again.  He didn't just feel like a hero, he was a hero!  His coat even blew around behind him like a cape.