Krystal Jung is one of the most popular girls in the school. And not like the clichéd high school Mean Girls type of popular. She is in the class of people who always have hundreds of likes on every picture they post on any social media platform, perfect Instagram feeds, invitations to all the hottest parties literally around the world, casual side modeling contracts, semi-celebrity friends, private islands, you name it. She’s intelligent, charming, and beautiful to boot. Absolutely nothing like you.

And for that reason, you don’t know what to say. Normally, you’re decent at comforting others. You’re good with words and you know that most people want listeners instead of constant advice givers when they’re sad. Maybe that’s what Krystal needs at this time. So you sit silently and wait.

Krystal stares at you for a moment. You guess she’s surprised that you’d sit by her instead of secretly Snapchatting her and leaving, evidence that she’s not perfect. After a moment, she looks down at her arms and frowns. At least she’s stopped sniffling.

“What are you doing?” she asks faintly, her voice quite steady even though tears track their way down her face.

You consider this question for a moment, not wanting to screw up possibly your only interaction with a modern day princess.

“Trying to think of what to do,” you truthfully reply.

She utters a short laugh and hiccups.