"No. 1 Groupie" Rodrick Heffley x F! Reader

₊‧♡‧₊ Chapter. 1 ₊‧♡‧₊

"My name is Y/N L/N, and I am the most popular girl in Crossland High School." I say, staring in front of a mirror. My mother, hanging over me, digging her long, cherry red polished nails into my stinging shoulder.

"Again, like you mean it this time." She snapped. My throat was starting to hurt, my mouth dry from repeating the same phrase for the last fifteen minutes.

"My name is Y/N L/N, and I am the most popular girl in Crossland High School!" I smiled more, my cheeks pinching, hurting from me forcing it so much.

"One more time, I want you to believe it."

"My name is Y/N L/N, and I am the most popular girl in Crossland High School!" I basically yelled the "most popular bit." Anything to make her leave me alone.

"Good. Now, get ready for school."

"Yes, Ma'am."

My name is Y/N L/N, and I am my mother's pride, but not her joy.

My mother, M/N L/N, was the most beautiful girl in her high school years. Until she was seventeen, where she got knocked up by some rock nerd (my father), at some drunken party. Causing her to have me.

I ruined my mother's life. She was well-liked, she was studious, she was beautiful, and she was a social butterfly - and then a condom broke, and her life was quickly over.

Now I, her one and only daughter, have to make up for her forsaken legacy. I must reclaim the title she once had, and prove them all wrong - for my mother.

I do not want this, this popularity. The being ogled, the photos taken of me that I didn't consent to, being groped and molested in public simply because I'm "desirable." I feel so gross all the time, and I hate it.

There is no escaping it.

I can't breathe.

I make my way to my ensuite in my bedroom, and quickly swallow my Xanax pills with a bottle of water. My mom found out very quickly that my mental health was slipping, and got me diagnosed for anxiety pretty much immediately. I've been medicated for four years. I'm now seventeen.

"If anyone ever finds out about your anxiety, you're in deep shit." I shudder at the memory of after attending the doctors office, in which I first got my diagnosis for anxiety.

I shake it off, and continue my morning routine as usual. Perfecting my makeup look that I've been wearing everyday for the past three years. I need to focus on getting ready for school.

💌

I woke up, my mom pushing open my bedroom curtains, opening the window. Cold morning air filled the room, disrupting my sleep.

"Wake up, Rodrick. Time for school." She said, cheerily. Who can be happy at this time in the morning? Freaks, that's who.

"Arghh..." I let out a groan, I was too tired to form any other response. She smiled and rolled her eyes at my groan.

"Remember, you're driving Greg to school." I let out another groan, only this time from annoyance, rather than exhaustion.

The first thing I did after my mom left was to just sit there in my bed, staring at the floor. "Fuck, I'm tired", was all I could think.

After ten minutes, I finally got up and headed to the bathroom. I took a wizz, slapped some water on my face in an effort to wake me up, and brushed my teeth.

I sniff my pits, "I smell like actual dog shit", I thought to myself, while grabbing some axe cologne.

I bomb out the bathroom with my cologne. I'll get yelled at for that later, but fuck it.