comparison is killin' me slowly
juke | human au | based on "jealousy, jealousy" by olivia rodrigo
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"You do realise you're sabotaging yourself, right? By being jealous?"
"I'm not jealous," Julie spit.
Flynn remained unfazed, though she certainly didn't deserve the malice of Julie's tone. She'd apologise later for it, but in that moment, all she saw were perfect bodies and perfect teeth and the green green green of envy.
"Envious then," her friend said, plucking the word from her thoughts. "Which you shouldn't be. Just because you're not an Instagram model, which is a doubtful job to begin with, doesn't mean you're ugly."
"It's not just that," Julie groaned, falling backwards on her bed. The grip on her phone loosened. "It's... I don't know."
The bed dipped beside her. A comforting hand pressed into her leg. "You think Luke doesn't find you attractive?"
Damn. Right on the money. Her hands covered her eyes in response, partly to hide the embarrassment, but also the silly tears welling up and threatening to slip out. God, she was predictable. Another thought she shouldn't have, that she should correct — she wasn't predictable, she was a teenage girl with valid emotions and wants and needs and God, she had enough of herself — but she was preoccupied with the image of Luke's perfect smile.
Something she didn't have.
"I know I'm not ugly," she muttered, though she wasn't sure if Flynn would believe that now. If even she herself believed it. She repeated it, to make sure she did believe. "I know I'm not ugly, but... Flynn, isn't it silly? We just don't fit. You don't see the Latina date the cute, white boy. The white boy breaks up with the Latina, and then she's reduced to comedic relief or best friend or, or, or whatever."
With a frustrated huff, she wiped the tears from her cheeks and sat up straight, sending Flynn a stern look. "And you know I'm right."
"That's the movies though," she soothed. "And scrolling through Instagram isn't helping."
"Look, everyone's expecting him to date a pretty, white girl. Like that—" Picking up her phone, the page of a blonde model reappeared. "That's just how people think. They'd look at us weird if we were to date—"
"Fuck expectations!" Flynn yelled, the outburst so sudden Julie jerked back in surprise, jaw slamming shut.
More shame crept in her bones. She wished she was as resilient as Flynn. Her best friend, with an iron sense of confidence and the bravery to do whatever she pleased. Sure, it got her in trouble at times, but at least she didn't hold pity parties like Julie did.
"I can see you're overthinking again," she continued. "I don't know about what, but you are. You need to breathe, Julie."
She nodded. "I know." A deep breath. "I know."
"And if Luke doesn't think you're pretty, so fucking what?"
"I'm kind of in love with him, Flynn," she deadpanned.
It was hard not to be in love with Luke. Regardless of his looks, he was her bandmate and writing partner and best friend. They met in freshman year and had been inseperable since. He once said that even if they didn't play music, they'd still be a band — bits of their souls intertwined no matter what. It was part of one of the many impassioned speeches he adored giving, but that was all she had been able to latch onto.
Their souls intertwined. Always and forever. Maybe spurred on by teenage bravado instead of reality, but she took it. She preferred daydreams anyway.
Flynn hesitated before responding, knowing she had to be more tentative. "And if he's not, then you'll move on... because you're strong. You'll be fine."
Julie sighed. "Yeah. You're right."
"I always am," she smirked. "But thanks for the reminder."
She should've known that smirk held more than just confidence. A bit of mischief glimmered within the brown too, something that would come to fruition the next day at school, when it was too late for Julie to reel her friend back in.
"Hey, Patterson!" Flynn barked.
Luke and Julie were ripped from their conversation by her locker, his face visibly leaning away to tilt and catch sight of the approaching girl.
He smiled, amused. "Love how we're still on last name basis, Lewis."
A phone got shoved in his face, Julie's eyes widening with mortification as she realised what was happening, what was on the screen. The blonde model, totally oblivious to the experiment they were using her for.
It felt weirdly perverse, but there was no turning back now. Flynn's feet were firmly planted on the ground and Julie was already too busy assessing Luke's expression.
It remained blank, a hint of apprehension as his gaze flitted from the image to Flynn. "Yeah?"
"What do you think?"
"Of the girl?"
"Yes."
Julie swallowed back the nerves and took a casual stance, feigning complete indifference. She was cool. She was so cool. She was the coolest girl. Nothing bothered her. She was—
Luke shrugged. "She's pretty, I guess. Not my type though."
Oh.
A victorious grin crawled up Flynn's lips and then pocketed her phone with satisfaction. "Good to know."
Suspicion crossed his features. "Did I just do something?"
"Something good," Flynn said. "Right, Julie?"
"Yeah," she rushed. "Good."
He frowned, his stare not leaving her that she began to wonder if he knew. If he saw right through her. If a finger coiled around those intertwined souls, like a phone cord, and tugged hard enough to uncover all her emotions. It wouldn't surprise her.
A lopsided smile ticked up his lips, a wink that should be considered illegal sent her way. "Don't worry, Jules." He leaned in. "I have a thing for brunettes."
With that, he spun on his heels and marched away, leaving a stunned Julie nailed on the spot as Flynn shook her arm in excitement.
Holy shit. Holy shit.
"I told you!" she exclaimed. "No need to feel jealousy!"
A small, giddy smile bloomed. Flynn was right. It was silly to put so much value on Luke's opinion about appearances, but with the way he behaved just now? They might actually feel the same, think the same — just like he had suspected.
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