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16 January 2011 @ 10:17 pm
The Story of the Queen Bee's Henchmen  
The Story of the Queen Bee’s Henchmen

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Summary: Everyone is familiar with the typical high school hallway scene with three dazzlingly beautiful girls in miniskirts and tight tops walking dramatically with imaginary wind blowing through their perfect hair. Well, that scene is very true, exaggerated, but very true. This is the story of one of those girls. This is a story about reality inside the prestigious inner circle of the most popular clique in high school. It's a story about how amid the fake smiles, backstabbing, and social climbing, true friendship is found.

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Everyone is familiar with the typical high school hallway scene with three dazzlingly beautiful girls in miniskirts and tight tops walking dramatically with imaginary wind blowing through their perfect hair. Well, that scene is very true, exaggerated, but very true.

Yes, there is this popular girl walking the hallway with beauty that allows her to stop time and catch everyone's attention and there are these two other henchmen that have the same power only the queen bee was given more generously than the two henchmen so I guess their place is walking a little behind her and supporting her every step of the way.

Now before I dwell on the henchmen, I would just like to state for records purposes that everybody knows that the queen bee is the meanest girl on campus. I know everyone agrees. She's beautiful, manipulative, and mean which makes her untouchable so that everybody that wants to be her or at least just her friend can't. Lucky these two henchmen, they're part of the queen's inner circle.

Yes, people might say that when you are part of this prestigious A-list, you will not find true friendship amid the fake smiles, backstabbing, and high school version of social climbing but I beg to differ because I am a henchman. I am the First Hench and this is my story.

Let me introduce you to henchman number two, or Second Hench. She is my best friend and we were introduced by none other than Queen, you know, the queen bee.

Queen and I have been together way longer than Second Hench. During first grade, I was the pretty blonde that everybody, even the teachers, adored and there was this girl with blonde hair in a boy's haircut being bullied by everyone. I met her as she was crying in the bathroom because some fifth grader stole her lunch of delicious lasagna and heavenly peppermint cookies. I gave her a piece of my gum, offered half my turkey sandwich, and we became instant friends with me dominating most of the relationship.

That was until fifth grade, where this girl with the ugly haircut suddenly underwent a transformation during a span of three months, also known as summer vacation. Her hair grew longer, she started wearing skirts, she was able to pull off high-heeled shoes by her age, and she started wearing makeup. Our places were switched and she became the queen.

That very same year, Second Hench was a brunette transferee from somewhere we don't really care about. We were eating at our usual table at the cafeteria and as she was passing by, the Tiffany charm bracelet around her wrist reflected light and as if by magic, caught our eyes. Queen and I exchanged looks and you know how it is with friends, it's like you have telepathic power that lets you converse with your eyes, we agreed that we must invite her to our table.

When we did, everything else ran smoothly because she fit in our former two-woman group, now three. Our sole similarity: our parents are members of the same country golf club. This only means that we're from the same social class and that was enough. Oh the joys of drowning in all that shallowness.

Second Hench and I have been best friends ever since, spending more time with each other than one of us with Queen. Maybe because we've long accepted that Queen will forever be the queen and that she can easily dispose of us.

Maybe we knew that she was never loyal to us and that we were never loyal to her and between the three of us, there is no true friendship and our bond is just our high school popularity. Maybe that's just the way it is, so might as well follow. Maybe because the world we live in, namely high school –specifically junior year, dictates us that since we were the most popular girls, we should be friends. Yes, it's not official but it's there, some clique god in this world is dictating us like an invisible force ordering us to be a clique. Or perhaps it's because we knew that since we were the most popular girls in school, we could join forces and together, we'd be invincible and we'd be more popular than ever. Maybe.

But hey, I'm telling you, Second Hench and I, we have a solid bond. Without Queen, we have occasional Friday nights with pizza and random flicks. We have scheduled phone calls right after school, sometimes a three-way when Queen suddenly feels like calling either one of us. We text each other a 'good morning' and a 'good evening' every day. We consult each other on what to wear, who to date, and who not to date. Sometimes, we consult the Queen and vice versa but not always. I guess she's not as loyal as henchmen are to each other. She probably chooses to hook up with someone new rather than to spend time with her friends.

There are also other things we don't share with Queen, for example crying on the shoulder, the occasional rubbing of the back when you're feeling sad, or when you need a hug, you're sure to get it from the other henchman. We show each other our own skeletons in the closet and keep it a secret because we have our own sealed henchmen bond where we know we could trust each other.

But of course we can't tell Queen about our secret bond. She has to be the center of attention, always. It's a strict rule and we have to follow because if not, she'll get angry and it's perilous to cross paths with Queen. How annoying it is to be caught up in this river where you have to go with the flow of the strong current.

"What time should I pick you up for Big-chested Cheerleader's party tonight?" Queen nonchalantly asked as she adored her perfectly painted red nails. We haven't even discussed about going to the party yet and we're already talking about the pick-up time. That's just her way of saying, You're accompanying me to Big-chested Cheerleader's party whether you like it or not.

Big-chested Cheerleader's this, yes, you've guessed it, cheerleader with the biggest boobs in the squad and she just loves throwing house parties, probably because her rich parents are divorced and she lives with her dad who's never home and who's always on a business trip which is just a cover for screwing some girl ten years younger than him.

She seems to have such a charmed life with all the glamour and money she can have with none of the parental presence but she chose the wrong vocation of extracurricular. If she didn't join the squad of squealing skanks, she might have had the chance of having mani-pedis with us every week but I guess she was desperate to score jocks, so she had to be part of the group that threw themselves to men so they could get laid. Sucks to be her, she's the butt of our jokes and gossips.

"Seven's good." I answered and then turned to Second Hench. "Queen could pick you up at my house, right?"

"Whatever." Second Hench agreed.

And off we went, that afternoon, as soon as the bell signaling dismissal rang, Queen ran and left us to buy her new outfit to impress Super Hottie while Second Hench and I walked to my house so we could get ready together before Queen arrived with her pink convertible Prius.

Oh, seems like I haven't mentioned, Super Hottie is Queen's new boy-toy target after breaking up with the most popular guy (unsurprisingly is a jock) in school just because she got bored with him. Queen has had her eye on Super Hottie ever since. I couldn't blame her, Super Hottie really is super hot with his dark blonde emo-styled longish hair, his ice-blue eyes, his pinkish lips, and his flawless nose, not to mention his perfectly chiseled body. He was also a self taught expert piano and guitar player, he has this rock band in school where he sings and plays the guitar. He's also a straight-A student and the type that doesn't really care about high school social hierarchy. He doesn't care about popularity. He does what he wants but he has this power of being untouchable that he can do anything dorky but get away with it and everyone still loves him. I love him but I can't do that because Queen called dibs on him first. If only I claimed possession before her, then there wouldn't be a problem.

I was leaning at the doorframe of the door that led to Big-chested Cheerleader's backyard. A cold breeze blew against my face. I needed air, it smelled too much of booze, cigarettes, and sweat inside, my three most hated smells in the world. In my hand is a beer cup filled with spike-free fruit punch. I didn't want to drink; never did I like the taste of alcohol. Blech.

"Hey." I heard a familiar voice said. I turned to look and there was Super Hottie, hotter than ever with his un-groomed hair that always cooperates with him, a sexy pull-over hoodie that fit him well, skinny jeans that upgraded his manliness, and to top it all off, Vans shoes that goes well with his outfit. "It's suffocating inside, isn't it?"

"It is, actually." I replied. There was a few seconds of silence until an overrated R&B song started playing where lyrics are often repeated due to lack of poetic talent. The song totally required substance. "Yuck." I unknowingly commented regarding the song. It's funny how Super Hottie emitted the same sound at the same time.

To my surprise, I looked at him and he did too. I can no longer contain my curiosity that I had to ask, "You hate that song too?"

"Not really that song, but the whole genre of non-substantial songs." He blurted out. I can't believe someone actually felt what I felt. I thought I was the only anti-R&B person amid a world of R&B lovers. Seeing that everywhere you look, AMA's, the Emmy Awards, and every kind of awards, you see R&B at the top of the musical ladder. I don't know what kind of spell those R&B artists use to fool people when clearly, their music have no quality.

Speaking of musical ladders, it just goes to show that in every aspect of life in this world, there is a social ladder, whether it's high school, the corporate world, or the housewife club in the suburbs, even in packs of wolves, there's a leader and a loser.

These social ladders and hierarchies where you viciously fight for your spot on top is just everywhere! It seems to me, you can't escape from it wherever you go and no matter how hard you try.

Now enough about the depressing state our world is in, let us go back to the party and what Super Hottie was saying about non-substantial music. "We're on the same page." I replied.

"Really? I've come to think that women are being fooled by some spell R&B artists use so their non-quality music will be adored."

"Excuse me, I am a full-pledged woman and I have been listening to music for sixteen years and so far, I am not being fooled by anyone because I believe that I have the ears to recognize good music." I said proudly.

"Okay, hit me." He challenged. We soon talked about bands, which ones are overrated and which ones are good. We agreed on the same favourite artist, this not-so-famous-yet-so-very-brilliant indie band. We talked about all sorts of stuff, even veering into this white R&B artist who got nominated for Black Entertainment Television Awards, truly entertaining how he dominated even the Black Entertainment Television with no talent at all. It's a wonder how he did that.

And yet moving farther from music related topics, we talked about our odd obsession with Vans and how we have more than ten pairs at home; he even proposed a date where I should show him my Vans collection since he was having a hard time believing I really had that kind of collection because I never wear them to school where I usually came to in heels. Although moving on with the non-music related topics, we mostly talked about the beautiful poetic content of the songs we liked and compared notes on how we interpreted it.

Soon afterwards, maybe because of our solid similarities when it comes to our intense love for music and because of how we enjoyed each other's company during the whole span of this conversation, we started making out. Hopefully, Queen won't see us. I do believe she won't because there's this 80% chance she's probably making out with this guy she was flirting with a while ago who was from the most expensive private school in the vicinity. She better be hitting it off with that guy because I'm betting my whole life on that 80% since I don't want to stop kissing this guy. He's the best kisser in the world, the best kiss I've shared with anyone.

"First Hench?!" A high-pitched voice screamed my name breaking the perfect kiss between Super Hottie and me. I turned around while trying to groom my hair and fixing my lipstick.

"Queen. Do you need anything?" I asked trying to be casual but failing. Now this is an awkward moment.

"What are you doing?" She barked. Her face was turning red and her fists curled ever so tightly.

"I'd like to think it's none of your business, Queen." I declared confidently. What else could I do? I couldn't make up an excuse. Nothing would suffice with this grave offense against Queen.

Her mouth dropped, surprised at the sudden outrage of her supposed loyal subject a.k.a. henchman. "Well, then I guess tomorrow night's get together at my house is none of your business."

Oh right, the sleepover where we'll be planning the dance for the Juniors since we're part of the dance committee with her as our head. I guess she kicked me out of the sleepover, which also means she kicked me out of the clique. Well, fine, if that's what she wants, at least I have Super Hottie. Speaking of Super Hottie, where did he go? Did he just ditch me? What a jerk.

Well, I guess there's nothing else to do than go home and figure this all out during an hour long bath with caramel scented candles and a whole bottle of jasmine bubble bath. I started to walk out and there she was, Queen, sitting at the couch in the living room (which she so successfully vacated by shouting rudely to a couple making out at the said couch), crying or rather pretending to cry her eyes out on Second Hench's shoulder.

And as I walked out of that house, past the living room, to the foyer, Second Hench and I locked eyes for a moment and during that brief moment, she mouthed to me, "You're dead."

Okay, that was intense, wait 'till you hear what happened in school the next day. By that time, I should've figured everything out but I haven't and I'm still pretty shaken up. No, that long bath last night didn't work, instead, it ended up in a long snooze inside the tub.

I walked past the tables at the cafeteria with my tray in hand and there they were, Queen and Second Hench, sitting side by side, talking, laughing, and flipping their hair. I tried to approach but guess what Queen did. Yes, she stopped the conversation and the giggles to give me a scrutinizing look followed by a, "Keep walking."

So I did what she said, what else could I have done? Luckily, I shared an intimate moment with Super Hottie last night so I could definitely eat with him, right? Well, I was wrong and I will tell you why I was wrong.

As soon as I got to Super Hottie's table, I saw him intensely smooching Lady Bassist, the girl version of Super Hottie and the bassist of Super Hottie's band. Oh great. I thought they were siblings.

"Pretty intense PDA, huh?" Someone disturbed my thoughts.

"Uh-huh." I managed to mumble. I was still too dumbfounded by what I'm seeing that it was the only thing I could say. A few more seconds passed until I could actually speak. "Since when…" I trailed off, not knowing how to put my question into words.

"Since the band started, around sophomore year. They couldn't keep their hands to themselves, mostly ruins band practices." The mystery thought interrupter whom I have recognized as the band's drummer as soon as I was able to avert my gaze from the smooching couple and laid eyes on him said.

"Wow." I gasped.

"That's kind of their makeup kiss. They fought last night because Big-chested Cheerleader had to call Lady Bassist to fetch the super drunk Super Hottie who can't remember a thing that happened last night."

Oh great. I knew there was something wrong with him last night that I tried to ignore. Such as the idiot grin on his face which I dismissed as a sign that he was captivated by me or the constant swaying which I thought was swaying to the music. Apparently I was wrong. He was drunk and that explains a lot.

"I thought they were siblings." The words just came out of my mouth; I just had to say it. I couldn't keep that disturbing thought inside me any longer.

"I did so too but guess not." He said.

Wow. Just wow. What a jerk. I guess he was just like all the other jocks in this high school world, a cheating and shallow-as-a-puddle douche bag that can't control their alcohol intake. I guess that kiss last night wasn't real, it was just false magic created by intoxication.

Losing my appetite, I threw away my lunch and headed straight to the bathroom. I guess now I have no one. That's what happens when you cross the queen bee, your whole high school social life crumbles. Well, guess again because my best friend, Second Hench chose that very moment when I wanted to break down and just cry to walk in the bathroom.

"You are so dead. Why did you do that?" She blurted.

I looked at her through the mirror and opened my mouth and then closed it again. Let's see, how do I say this such that I would get sympathy? "Um."

"You know what, never mind." She said. I guess she doesn't want to listen. "Same plan?"

I beamed. "Of course!"

There we go. I guess our solid pact of henchman-hood and best friendship pulled through.

"Just hang in there and don't do anything that would make her angrier." She ordered.

"Thanks." I said. She smiled back and blew me a kiss before she walked out of the bathroom.

I couldn't count how many times this has happened. One henchman gets kicked out temporarily because the queen bee just had to be that selfish and self-centered so the other henchman pretends to stay loyal to the queen bee to make sure that the spot of that henchman that got kicked out will still be vacant when she comes back, after all, they had to protect each other's throne at the powerful inner circle of high school, they had to protect each other because in the end, no matter how it looks like from the outside, even from the queen bee's perspective, the henchmen will always be loyal to each other. Yes, you can't even depend on that guy you shared a magical kiss with one night. You can only depend on your other henchman because she's your best friend.

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