*Mean's POV*

The first impression that I caught while putting brush and lipstick on the table are : beautiful. Almost the same as when I first saw her two years ago, when the school orientation began.

People can’t call Pie as school diva, but she is attracts. Her beauty covered by long pony, her hair was always cut flat without a model, and she is too bassic to be the center of attention.

I m be her friend for more than two years, but knew enough to say that the difficulties of life only make her stronger. As we all know, Pie's father who just graduated from elementary school opened a small drug store at home. Stepmother worked day and night to open a catering business.

She doesn’t like our other friend, which can celebrate a birthday at the hotel and famous cafe. Not like we, who have a lot of television and the latest gadgets at home, but still scrambling to use it. She only had a old car whose engine coughed smoke whenever in-stater, while we all have at least two luxury cars parked in the garage.

Pie need to help her parents at home after school, and incredibly, her grade is always highest in the class. One by one scholarships she gets without difficulty, without leaving room for students who desperately learn to achieve it.

Pie is not like me.

Sometimes, I'm amazed with her growing strength in everything that should tear her. She just never realized that she had it all.

Tonight, thanks to me and my artistic hands, Pie looks pretty in her tight skinny jeans with a dark colored accents Diamente around his waist, and white satin blouse. I lent her clothes were too strick in my body, but fit in Pie. I also lend a pair of flat shoes with satin ribbons violet. Not to forget also, brushed a little rouge and lipstick peach. Her red hair looked darker than it should be, and somehow, Kim is right. That color is perfect for Pie’s pale skin.

At first, I almost hit the ceiling when Pie plans to wear a knee-length denim dress who once wore to the wedding of our teachers. The dress is plain, rather worn, at first glance looks like a negligee. When she took it from her bag, I only can shook my head.

Pie grinned, knowing what I will going to say. "Don’t comment," she said.

"We want to sweet seventeen party at the café, Pie dear ... not to the market!" Luckily she was not wearing flip-flops.

Pie rolled his eyes. "Am I that bad, huh?"

I chose to not answer.

Finally, she agreed to borrow my clothes.

We were escorted by my driver to Jean’s party. The café already half full when we arrived. Jean standing in the middle of the crowd, wearing a dress by renowned designer light blue accent ruffles. I see Kim in the corner of the room, chatting with Mike and Nongh.

I pull Pie’s hand. She still looked uncomfortable in the open shirt, with discomfort, she pull her shirt down. "Don’’t pulls the shirt," I hissed. God, Pie really tacky.

Kim kissed me on the cheek when we came and whispered ‘hi, gorgeous’, as he often did. Today, I chose abstract print mini dress motif newfangled new tube I bought last week. Then, everyone's attention moved to Pie, who was Kim called as 'red - head'.

Nongh and Mike (especially Mike) looked shocked. Pie cheeks flushed. Then Mike try to speak. "What happend with your hair?"

His tone was cool and calm as usual, but we all catch vibrating emotions that rarely emerge from Mike. Kim and Nongh look at each other. I look at Pie who ducked, hoping she have a bit of courage to answer.

"WHAT HAPPEND WITH YOU HAIR?" Mike asked again, this time with louder voice.

"I ..." Pie hanging sentence. Mike never shout out, especially to Pie.

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