At Glacierwood High there is an annual festival among the students, the Insult Festival, it is a silly festival where the students write opinions about everyone in the school, and put them in a big machine like a room, and when the students come, they hear cruel things from the machine, and at the end there is a competition for the winners in terms of who was insulted the most.
Usually, popular girls don't participate in this, but this year, among the nominations, everyone nominated the names of famous school figures, such as August, Autumn, and others.
Despite the ridiculous idea of the festival that was rejected from the beginning, all the students convinced Autumn, who is a member of the student council, to help them. Autumn, who was an exemplary student and a source of pride, and who is a descendant of the founders of the school, the others could not argue with her opinion, even though she is now in a difficult situation in the game that she agreed to, the game that makes everyone laugh, but makes most of them cry until they sleep.
#1(August)
August entered with a smile, ready to play, unaware of the danger of this talking device.
Oh, August, you're the perfect embodiment of the phrase, "Unshaken as a mountain," except the wind here is ambition, and you're the mountain that refuses to budge. Always sitting there, waiting for luck to knock on your door, but the gag is, luck doesn't even know your address.
And what's with this "I'm different, and nobody understands me" act? Sweetheart, you're not mysterious; you're like an open book no one bothers to read because the plot is boring. Every chapter of your life screams complaints and drama like, "Why isn't the world fair?" Well, August, what have you done to make it fair? Or do you think crying over spilled milk is a career move?
Even your style? Let me tell you, we could walk into a thrift shop with $5, pick out random pieces, and still come out with a better look. You're the kind who dresses like you're saying, "I'm casual, but make it depressing."
August's eyes were wide in shock, she kept listening to the words in shock, while shaking her head, her tears wouldn't stop, she tried to get out, but the door wouldn't open until the end. Which meant she would listen until the end in regret.
And your way of talking? Oh, dear Lord, a sentence that any normal person would finish in two seconds, you turn it into a five-act play. "Well, I… I don't know… it's just… why is life… so cruel?" Focus, August. Life isn't cruel; you're just living in black-and-white while the world is bursting with color.
As for Autumn? Honey, she sees you as nothing more than a footnote, while you still think you're in some tragic drama that will magically turn into a comedy. You're not the protagonist, August. You're the extra whose name doesn't even show up in the credits.
If there were a festival for being overlooked, you wouldn't just win it; the judges would forget to announce your name out of habit.
Even in these bizarre competitions you try to enter, like "Who Complains the Most in a Day," you'd sweep first place effortlessly, but no one would congratulate you because they'd know you'd complain about the award itself.
You're the type to walk into a room and make it heavier—not with charisma, heaven forbid—but with this "Hey, everyone, I'm here, and I hate everything!" energy you radiate. If you had a superpower, it'd be the ability to make everyone around you sigh the moment you open your mouth.
And this "I'm not recognized" narrative? Girl, who asked you to be the school icon in the first place? Your accomplishments are so non-existent that if someone were to write your school history, they'd leave the page blank and slap a note on top: "Sorry for any inconvenience."
If there were a machine to measure enthusiasm for life, it would malfunction as soon as it touched you and say, "Error: Cannot detect any measurable level."
August, seriously, the world isn't against you. You're against yourself. Instead of constantly living in this eternal victim mode, try—just once—to see the world with less gloom, because even misery itself is tired of you.
August smiled miserably. Then she walked out, without looking the others in the eye, and even bumped into Autumn. "I'm sure she'll win," Marceline said. "I bet you'll win," Juliette replied with a laugh.
but at least for August, she knows a perfect place that the machine didn't know about: bathrooms floors.
#2(Autumn)
Autumn, you school star, distributing confidence like you have a global surplus of it, the truth is you're nothing more than a chapter in a book about arrogance and denial. You know? You're the living embodiment of the phrase, "Conceited but doesn't understand why no one gets her greatness."
Look, you say you dream of a perfect life, but the only dream you have is for people to keep looking at you in awe, as if you're a character from a grand drama. But the bad news, Autumn: your life isn't a great drama, it's closer to a commercial for a failed product that no one wants to buy.
Of course, you're the "sweet" girl everyone loves, but let me tell you something: your fake sweetness is so obvious. That smile on your face doesn't represent kindness; it's just a mask to protect you from the fact that no one at this school actually likes you—they're just enjoying watching Autumn fall, like a false hero.
And yeah, let me tell you something about your role in the "insult Festival." The fact that you agreed to be a part of it isn't because you love the school or the students… no, it's because you love being in the spotlight. You knew the machine would talk about you, and instead of being afraid of the truth, you said, "It's fine, another lead role."
Autumn, you're the type who claims to not care about appearances, but the thing you fear the most is being "just ordinary." You spend your life trying to elevate your story, but your story, honestly? Weak plot, boring characters, and the most exciting moment is when you decided to join the "insult Festival" and realized you weren't the hero of that film—you were just a pointless extra in a side scene.
And when your name comes up at school, everyone says, "Autumn? Oh, she's the girl who breaks herself if anyone tells her she's not perfect." Literally, if there was a prize for "Most Deluded," you wouldn't just win, the judges would vote unanimously… but not for them, for you.
You know the last thing? If your life were a movie, the ending wouldn't be exciting or moving, it would be just slow credits, and people leaving the theater before it finishes.
Autumn, you're truly the queen of contradictions. You act like you're strong and independent, yet you're sitting around waiting for applause from an audience in your mind. You try to be a leader, but the truth is, you're only leading yourself in a never-ending cycle of drama.
You're the type that if you take on a small responsibility, you'd celebrate it as an "achievement," and when things go wrong, you start looking for someone to blame. Honestly, if life were a series, you wouldn't be the protagonist or even the villain—you'd be the character everyone forgets between episodes.
And of course, the whole "descendant of the school's founders" thing doesn't pass an opportunity without you mentioning it. Yeah, we all know, but no one cares except you. Sweetheart, titles don't create greatness, and if the founders of the school knew their granddaughter would turn out like this, they would've sold the school and built a playground instead.
And of course, when life hits you hard, the first thing you do is turn into a dramatic version of yourself. Sitting in your room writing journals no one will read, crying in front of the mirror like you're the star of a black-and-white movie. Hey Autumn, when are you going to realize the mirror doesn't give out Oscars?
And when it comes to love? Yeah, Autumn, let's talk about Theo. You don't love him, you love the idea that he loves you. You love being the center of the universe, and that poor guy is just a small planet in your orbit. But you know what? Those small planets sometimes fall out of orbit, and then you'll be all alone in your empty space.
Let me tell you the truth you don't want to hear: "Autumn, you're not perfect." The fact that you're afraid of that word is what keeps you living in this big lie. Perfection doesn't come from clothes, or smiles, or even titles, true perfection comes when you admit you're just an ordinary person, with your mistakes and flaws, but you know that won't happen anytime soon because you don't want to face your reality.
And finally, Autumn, if the "insult Festival" was meant to expose your truth to everyone, let me tell you: the machine didn't disappoint anyone today. You've spent years painting a shiny image of yourself, but in one moment, everyone saw the picture behind it: just an empty frame.
Autumn heard all the words with a smile, she didn't know if she should cry or smile, but she felt that she understood herself and also distanced herself from her, maybe August didn't realize that from the shock, but every word here, is said because of the words of others about her. And about how they see her.
When Autumn came out, she looked at Marceline and Juliette, "I think I'll win instead of her."
In the end, the final winners, both of them, competed for first place, not incited, to see how much others enjoyed their ridiculous position, as expected, from the coolest girls in school, to be the laughingstock at the moment of revealing their dead souls, in the end, 17-year-old girls can't be what others expect of them.
Even though everyone was humiliated, since the greatest girls in the school were humiliated the most, no one would care about the pain. The fall of the queen is more exciting than the death of the people.