There was no justice in this world for flat chests. 

 It was a lesson Therese had come to learn the hard way. “Are you seriously not going to serve me?” The brunette clicked her tongue impatiently, her elegant ponytail bouncing with every movement of her head.

“Sorry, try again in an hour.” The guy behind the counter didn’t even look back at her. He just went on wiping down the soda dispenser,admiring its luster. How hard would it have been for him to just give her the bubble tea and be done with it? 

 Therese stomped her foot and turned on her heels. Back at their table, Jeanette was at her third burger and second pack of fries now, a thin film of sweat glimmering off her forehead. “This new special is so damn good.”

 Though the two were “friends”, they couldn't have been more different. Therese was slender, short, and flat-chested - a model student whose only mark of extravagance were her gleaming black nails. Jeanette was blonde, tall, and supremely endowed with a pair of huge breasts that needed to rest on the table as she ate - a large-chested bully that performed so poorly she got left behind twice already in school. She wasn’t even wearing her uniform; instead she wore a white tracksuit that swished infuriatingly.

 And here they were, Jeanette stuffing herself like a pig and Therese thinking twice about the few fries she stole from the blonde’s lunch. As if things weren’t unfair enough, the cow wasn’t even fat. Despite eating like a trashcan there were abs on her tummy, which Therese herself lacked despite committing to a hundred crunches every night for over a year now. Where is the justice?

 Jeanette stuffed in the last third of her burger shamelessly. The sight of it made her slender friend shudder. The assemblage of the burger fell apart, pickles and salad raining down on the tray and table. Jeanette casually picked up all the veggies and tossed them back inside her mouth. Then she wiped the bead of sweat trickling down the side of her face and leaned against the seat with a tired sigh. “Wow, that was good.” 

 The blonde’s arms went up as she stretched sleepily, thrusting her chest outwards as her back arched, the nylon of her top stretched so thin that the outline of her bra showed through. Therese noticed that guys from nearby tables all looked over, mesmerized by the sight of her extraordinary chest. Jeanette pretended not to notice or care; but of course she did. The golden turd knew exactly what she was doing. 

“What happened to your bubble tea?”

 Therese scowled. “He won’t serve me. He says it’s closed.” 

“But he’s right there.”

“Exactly. Cleaning, or so he says.” 

“Let me give it a shot.” 

 The blonde got up and went over. At first it appeared that the guy wouldn’t serve her either. But the moment he turned and his eyes connected with her chest his entire face froze and his demeanor immediately changed to one of happy smiles and respectful nods.  

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 To Therese, how guys worked was utterly disgusting. They were all slaves to boobs, completely helpless before the power exerted over them. No matter the guy and his stated likes, the moment a busty girl appeared he would be gaga about her like some stupid baby looking to get breastfed. The bigger the boobs, the stronger the pull, till they finally blew a fuse and lost their minds. And yet, amazingly, that stopped at a certain point when the breasts turned too big and provoked only revulsion. More maddening still, that extreme point appeared to be completely arbitrary and different with each and every guy, so no poor girl could guess what they wanted. 

 But they want them bigger than non-existent, that’s for sure, a vicious self-critical part of her said. Therese became self-conscious about her flat chest again and covered it up with her crossed arms, sneaking glances at the nearby tables. In truth, none of the guys were looking over at their table anymore now that Jeanette left it.  

 Much to her dismay, that dumb idiot served the tea. The blonde took it without so much as having to pay and came back. “What do we say?” 

 Therese smirked unhappily. “Thank you.” 

 Jeanette grinned victoriously. “Don’t thank me, thank my milkers.” She proudly lifted up her breasts, so massive that they barely fit her palms. “I’m not sure what I’d do without them.” 

 How are they so goddamned big? Therese wondered darkly. She slurped down the tea, blushing, just imagining how powerful her friend must have felt with those bazongas at her disposal. They were worth their weight in gold. And Therese was struck by abject poverty. 

 It didn’t matter to guys that she was the best student in their school, not if she was a chestlet. No matter what she accomplished in life, she would always be inferior, even before this brainlet that failed to pass her eighth year twice in a row. 

 Guys used to bestow on Therese countless cards and presents every Valentines while crazy weirdos like Jeanette got nothing. Was this punishment for that time? Karma? How could the tables turn so drastically overnight? 

 Smiling mischievously, Jeanette leaned forwards, dragging her heavy chest along the surface of the table. Her predatory hazel eyes held Therese as she drank the bubble tea. “I feel really sorry for you. Nothing sucks more than being a girl without boobs.” 

 The psycho liked to do this. The feigned concern as she insulted and invalidated Therese and made her feel worthless. “If I could give you some of my boobage, I could.” Jeanette grinned. “God knows, I have enough to divide between a whole classroom.” 

 This was how she established complete dominance in their friendship. Therese chewed the straw anxiously as the staggering breaths leapt past her trembling lips. Her eyes could not leave the blonde’s chest. They were big enough to smother her to death. How could they be so big? How? 

“Don’t worry, though, I’ll always help you out,” Jeanette went on. “I’ll share my boobs with you whenever you need them. Hell, if you ever get a boyfriend I’ll let him play with my milkers so he doesn’t have to suffer for loving a flattie.” 

 A muscle in her arm jerked and almost caused her to drop the tea. “Thanks,” stammered Therese unevenly. 

 Jeanette knew she struck a critical hit and leaned back, supremely satisfied with her performance. “Go on, enjoy your tea, flattie.”