Had anyone bothered to ask for her most humble, genuine opinion - Althea would've suggested gutting the Girls' Bathroom on the second floor and remodeling it from top to bottom. Not that she minded the wailing and Myrtle's drama, but it was honestly an ugly place - no wonder Myrtle was always crying. Althea liked to be brief whenever she stopped in, though she was taking her time today. Lack of sleep made her extremely sluggish as of late, and she took a long, hard look at herself in the mirror before pulling out some creme for her face.

She did not cry, she was not a crier; these are things you did in the comfort of your own bed at home - or, in a closet of sorts where no one could hear you. Althea had never been one to openly shed tears, and yet there she was, in the bathroom, doing everything in her power to get rid of her shame. Embarrassingly enough, her cheeks were still flushed - albeit lightly, but still! - so she splashed some cold water over her face before drying it off gently. There. She had to admit, there was something agonizingly beautiful about experiencing heartbreak, and if she were in a better mood, she'd admit to herself that despite how vulnerable she was, the crying had clearly made her glow and she could appreciate that.

"Get it together," she told herself sternly, still looking at her reflection.