Words 2
"Our deepest fear is not that we are inadequate.
Our deepest fear is that we are powerful beyond measure.
It is our light, not our darkness that most frightens us.
We ask ourselves, who am I to be brilliant, gorgeous, talented, fabulous?
Actually, who are you not to be?" Marianne Williamson
Rachel Berry spent the 1st of January in her bed staring at the ceiling. She didn't feel like exercising on her treadmill or practicing her singing like she usually did when she was in vacation. She didn't feel like posting a video of one of her performances on MySpace or planning her calendar of activities of the month. She didn't even felt like eating or moving. Somehow, it seemed now pointless to her. Girls like Santana would always be the one to win no matter how much girls like Rachel tried.
Santana could easily get away with terrorizing everybody because she detained all powers. In high school world she was a queen and an evil one as that. She was William McKinley High School's Queen of hearts. Wherever she would go heads would roll and everybody was too scared to contradict her reign except Quinn, but the beautiful Christian girl was no angel either. Actually, until not long ago, Rachel used to find the head cheerleader even worse than Santana but, due to recent events, she had changed opinion.
Rachel turned on her stomach and buried her nose in her pillow. Santana's voice came ringing back to her mind rising from the inmost depth of her subconscious.
"You think you're life is miserable? If you ever say something about what you saw, I'll make your life a fucking nightmare. Believe me; Holocaust will seem like a walk in the park compared to what I could do to you so you better shut the fuck up."
She felt like crying. She didn't want to go back to school and face her. It was not like the usual discomfort she had towards the idea of confronting her pairs. It was more than that. She was feeling sick of having to watch over her shoulder to see if someone was going to come and throw a slushy at her, of people continually talking down on her, and of constantly being subjected to awful pranks. The idea of now having Santana watching her from behind readying herself to attack at the slightest faux-pas was making her tremble with fear. She was pretty sure that the horrible paralyzing sensation of fear that had overtaken her body was similar to the one of a pray being thrown at a very hungry caged tiger.
What did girls like Quinn or Santana had more than her? How could they do all those awful things and still be admired by others like they did? Rachel did not understand. It reminded her in a way of the musical Chicago in which two murderess find a way to use their crime to increase their celebrity and become in that way famous singers. Was life the same? Did cruelty really engender popularity?
Rachel sat down and gave a circle look to her bedroom. She pitifully pushed herself out of her bed and walked towards her desk. She turned on her laptop and opened a Facebook page. She went on Finn's profile which was a daily habit she couldn't resist to accomplish. She laughed sombrely when she read the first message written on his wall. It came from Santana. It was filled with sexually charged comments. She sighed knowing that the message was displayed for her intention more than for her ex's. It was a not so subtle threat.
She couldn't help clicking her way to the Latina's page. Even though they weren't friends Rachel could see all of her profile pictures. In most of them the girl was exhibiting her body through the meaning of very short and tight-fitting clothes. In some, she was by the pool wearing a dark purple bikini in diverse very suggestive position. It was easy to tell that Brittany was the one that had taken this particular set because they were followed by few arm-length shots of both of them dressed in their swimwear. They were holding each other's waist while they winked, gave provocative stares, and sent kisses to the camera. All through that set of pictures, Santana appeared to be wearing a genuine smile on her face and in one of them, that had obviously been caught while she was off-guard, she could be seen looking at her best friend with large shiny loving eyes. It was strange to see her in that light. She seemed so far off from the Santana Rachel knew, so much less intimidating.
There was much older photo taken the previous winter that was particularly endearing. The two girls were dressed in their winter coats. The brunette had her nose buried in a large red scarf. Brittany was hugging her tightly with her eyes closed in contentment. She seemed as though she was pulling away from kissing her friend's cheek which had taken a wintery shade of red. Santana was grimacing funnily as if she was about to scowl and laugh at the same time. Her half closed eyes were secretly set on her friend's visage and Rachel could read such tenderness in them that it wouldn't have been touching if it had been coming from anyone else.
How could Rachel have missed that? How could she not have seen this obvious, but odd, love relationship right before her eyes? Surely others must have known. Their promiscuity made it hard to believe that they could have true love feelings, but when you took the time to look at them, which Rachel barely ever did, they seemed to be sharing a deep connection that exceeded the simple lines of friendship or meaningless sexual partnership.
At that moment, Rachel realized what made her different from girls like Santana. While she was trying to go through her day being, as much as she could, true to herself, Santana, her, would hide it all. With the exception of Brittany who really knew who the Latina was? Everything about her that wasn't socially acceptable was carefully guarded behind her dark manipulative eyes.
That was the key to popularity.
Being popular was not due to some natural talent. It was all part of a game with no moral boundaries. In it, people would lie with no shame, would cheat in ignominious ways, would betray their closest friends, and wouldn't mind crushing others under their steps on their path to the top.
It was an opprobrious game in which the rules were high school social norms and in which you could find people who were ready to do anything, literarily anything, to win. It was easy to remember, for example, how Quinn had dethroned Santana from her head cheerleader position at the beginning of the year by telling their coach about her summer surgery. Then again, there was that time, she now knew, where Santana had viciously taken Finn's virginity to get that same spot in their cheerleading squad. Although she did not know which one of the two was the most morally reprehensible, the second seemed to her far worst because it affected her.
Brittany was probably, in a way, the most intuitive player at that game. She had found her way to link herself to a stronger player whom she followed on her battle to take over the board game that was their high school without ever having to do the dirty work herself. It was, in Rachel's opinion, a pretty clever move for someone of her mental capacity when one thought of it. It showed that she was probably more intelligent than people would give her to be.
Rachel slid down her chair and closed her eyes. Her shoulders slumped forward under the weight of her discovery. Why hadn't she thought of it before? She was always so busy thinking about her future and how to plan it that she never seem to see the evidence. If she was obviously failing now to construct a solid social network how could she do it in the future? She bit her bottom lip and started thinking very fast. If even Brittany could play that game, why wouldn't she be able to do it? The way she over-analyzed everything could and her strong determination could easily become important skills to play the game. What did she have to lose anyways? Everything had been taken away from her even her, even the strength that motivated her to believe in her childhood dreams, and most of that was because of Santana Lopez. If Rachel was able to find a way to become popular, she would be to socially powerful for people to terrorize her and probably that Finn would regret leaving her. Even more than that, if she did indeed reach that goal, she would earn Santana's respect and maybe, if she worked a little more, she could gain her trust. After, she could use it against her and socially destroy her. Santana would then know how it was to be at the bottom, how it was to be the one to be stepped on by people like her. It was brilliant when she thought of it.
Rachel opened a word document. She wrote a title at the top of the page.
Rachel Berry's secret plan of socially destroying Santana Lopez
She took a hairpin from a hair accessories leather case on her desk and started biting it nervously. Her plan had to be perfect because playing Santana was like with fire: very dangerous. She squinted and scrunched her nose. She took one last peek at the winter picture that displayed so openly one of the weakest sides of her enemy and it gave her courage.
Part 1: Becoming popular
Step 1: Hide characteristics of my personality that people tend to dislike the most
She stopped a moment to think. What did people criticized about her? Firstly, there were her speeches. There were always people to roll their eyes when she made one. Secondly, there was her controlling issue. Rachel had particularly terrifying memory of Santana launching wildly off her chair in her direction once when she had tried to coordinate Glee club. Thirdly, there was her dressing. People always made harsh comments about her choice of clothes.
Step 2: Befriend "cool" people
If she was right about step 1, step 2 should come naturally. With her new attitude people should start wanting to be her friend.
Step 3: Become a Cheerio
She was a talented dancer and was pretty skilful when it came to acrobatics. After following the first two steps, it shouldn't be too hard to fulfil the third one.
Part 2: Gaining Santana's trust
Step 1: Use the fact that I now revolve in the same social circles as Santana to attend the same social gathering as her.
This one should be easy. It is the next one that was going to be much more complex.
Step 2: Tame the beast
It was hard to tell at that point in what way she would be able to accomplish it because she did not know the Latina well enough for that. In time, she would probably be capable to pinpoint how to approach this matter.
Part 3: Socially destroy her
Only step: Use what have been learn during part 2
Hasta la vista Santana Lopez!
Part 4: Enjoy the position swapping
Rachel smiled to herself. She saved her document and turned off her computer before running out of her room. She skipped happily down the stairs to eat a quick breakfast. She then stretched, opened the radio, and started training on her treadmill half-listening to the Pussycat doll song that was playing. Maybe she should have because it was ironically foreshadowing what would follow.
"...be careful what you wish 'cause you just might get it, 'cause you just might get it."
part3