Chapter 1
Life, it’s a beautiful lie we all live in. A lie we happily accept without any dejection, without any uncertainty and of course without any repentance.
Life has various phases. Birth, education, relationship, whining about your relationship, breakups, one night stands, death. These are the only phases that we all go through now a days.
Let’s start from school. School was basically made from a business model of hell. Jocks and popular queen bees ran the school like Hades and the burning souls of introverted bookworms screamed for help endlessly, in the pits of burning despair- all of them awaiting the simple, cruel picking from the gods above.
The more I thought about it, the more I traced similarities. First of all no one wanted to be there. Then, the fact that everyone was forced to stay for long periods of time, which seemingly lasted forever, made the argument even stronger. It all just added up.
That probably would’ve been the way I described school when I was little.
Perhaps another, less clichéd, analogy for school is being stuck in the middle of an empty desert where predators hang like vultures in the air, snapping and snarling with their beaks as they waited to pick on anything that was exposed.
These vultures existed in many forms. The most famous example were grueling bitches, with their sharp, pointy and dangerous claws for nails.
It was best to never get caught in a vulture’s wing stream.
Maybe that was a bit of a stretch.
So, it was not completely like that. Not really at all, I suppose. I was far from burning soul in hell, nor was I filed by everyone as a complete loser. However, a hierarchy- filled with assholes and egoistic snobs- existed in most places.
The self proclaimed kids were everywhere, for better and for worse.
Usually for worse.
They always found something to pick on or laugh at passively in their crowd. Like when I was fourteen, I was always the first one to arrive at school, about five minutes earlier than the rest. That, according to them, made me a loner.
But there was a reason, not that it mattered.
My father always dropped me off early so that he could get to work on time, whilst my mother was up in the air, somewhere on a plane.
Anyway, for me, things were great. I got to visit my cousins- because of my mother’s job. She was a pilot. The best amongst her crew. Yet, I still never left America, and even with the pretty views, books and earphones never left contact with my body.
I was close to my parents once. But like any other teenager, I began to ignore them and spend time away from their presence. Yes, most teens would go to parties to avoid their parents- I just did the same thing, but from the comfort of my own bedroom.
I could go to the library, but I always saw people reading stupid repetitive stories and wondered why. It annoyed me. They lived for these mushy teen tales of bestfriends falling in love or the bad boy (suddenly turns good) falls in love with the nerd, the billionaire falls in love with their secretary, or two people are forced to marry each other and they fall in love. The most basic part is when the girl gets kidnapped, the guy cheats with another woman, the guy divorces his wife because he finds some pictures of her sleeping with another man. Then magically she becomes pregnant with his kids which by the way always are a girl and a boy. She is then proved to be innocent, he begs for forgiveness, she denies and then she accepts him. It is all repulsive. Luckily, I had never been through that stage in my life and, after my unintended experience with another all too tragic love story, the idea didn’t seem any more attractive.
I should’ve known better but I was carried away.
Soul- mates and true love were simply tales made up for young children. They never happened. For starters, people weren’t made by their parents simply chuckling whilst they reproduced, talking about how they weren’t ever going to let go.
A few giggles and touching didn’t get anyone anywhere. It was all a merely puppy-like a kind that never lasts; the kinds that ends in tears nd broken hearts.
These types of relationships never worked and they quickly became the catalyst that set off the explosion of emotions.
The whole concept of happily ever after was false. Fairy tales were called tales for a reason. Change the T to a S and it became Sales, not tales. Truth be told, it was written for money, nothing else.
A real relationship would take time and hard work, which was something I didn’t have the space for at this moment in my life.
My parents used to leave me alone at home and they were willing to do that for they trusted me. It wasn’t like I was some wild girl, having flings in the hope that maybe one day the bad boy, destined to be billionaire, thought my sex was the best and asked me to marry him. But my parents worried for me. They were worried about the exact opposite result to most parents- not throwing huge parties and trashing the house- but the fact that I would sit in my room twenty four hours a day and do nothing.
I adored reading, chilling and sleeping. Above all, I liked being alone. I talked to people, it just wasn’t on my list of things to go out of my way do. However the thought of other judgemental students never bothered me. Reputation meant nothing after school.
In college nobody cared about anyone else’s business. Everybody had their priorities set straight, surprisingly even the bad boy and the mean girls. College was the only place I ever enjoyed being. Firstly, because nobody bothered me and secondly because I no longer had the thought of a person magically falling in love with me. Relationships were seemingly less, as the once sappy high school relationships were either over or the girl was pregnant and had to leave college.
The only two souls who deeply cared about me were my parents. I recollected the times we went for picnics in some gardens away from all the paparazzi. The time when my father had slipped, and hurt his back in an ice skating ring, me and my mother held both of his arms and helped him up. The time when I had my toe crack open and I was screaming in an hospital where my dad held me, and that feeling of someone caring for you soothed me down. The times when my parents argued in gratification on a trivial thing like who proposed whom. It turns out that my mom did break all the stereotypes. There are countless memories, unconditional love. But all of it was taken away from me.
I remembered countless times were I had arguments all leading to the same topic. Why didn't I want to socialize more. My parents wanted me to have a boyfriend like other teenagers. I wasn't going to find love under peer pressure.
In the recent months I had closed myself a little. I needed that time, isolated. I couldn’t get the thought out of my head that IF my parents would’ve been alive now, what kind of atmosphere would it be in this three storied mansion. The forsaken atmosphere eats my soul each day. I feel empty.
Three years ago the mishap caused a hole in my heart. The day dad’s secretary informed me about the plane crash, where my mother, father along with other 350 people were killed. I did not take the news well. I was in pieces. It was aching time for me. It wasn't easy for me to wake up every morning and for a split second forgetting that the part of your heart or soul isn't there anymore, and then remembering. One day I felt angry for not being in that plane with them and the next day I was depressed.Remember the repentance I talked about, here I was aquainted with it. I couldn't bid any goodbye to either of my parents, I couldn’t tell them how much they meant to me, how much I loved them.
I was the sole heir to a substantial inheritance. I was dragged out of college and put into work. I learned to administer dad’s hotel chains right from Asia to Europe to America. It took a lot of toil and late nights and caffeine for me to outshine just like my dad. I majored in business and earned a degree and then another and then another. But what was the use of all of it? Remember the part where I talked about dejection? Yet again, I faced it.
I spun the spherical paper weight whilst I was in deep thoughts, my childhood, high school, college and then my parents death. How did time sprint so fast. I looked around my office which was on the 65th floor of Hawthorne & Co. The walls were painted white, towering and displaying the amount of wealth Hawthorne's earned. The ceiling was blue and so were the tiles beneath. There was a huge glass wall behind my desk, from where I could see the simultaneous hotels that my dad owned. The furniture was black symbolizing the power.
I heard a soft knock on my door. I pinched my forehead, which was aching due to all of the stress and strain. I tried several medications and caffeine but it didn't seem to budge. Taking a couple days out of work was impossible.
I quickly composed myself, dusting my black pants and pulling my blazer closer to me. I fixed my glasses and hair before saying 'come in' to the person.
"Miss. Rihanna, there's a client who is willing to invest in our next project. Should I schedule a meeting with him?" Jade, my personal secretary peeked through the slight gap, holding some documents in a beige manila envelope.
"Yes." I typed some emails as I replied to her. In the recent year, my company had progressed a lot. I was proud of my work and how I wish, my father could've seen it. But with the increase in progress, came a load of more work. The working hours increased from 5:00 pm to 7:00 pm. I hired more people and there were two department heads on each floor.
"And there's one more thing, Mr. Justin has requested for an appointment with you. Again, for the fifth time this month."
I slightly banged my palms on my desk. He was the last person I would want to meet. I had already denied and cancelled several meetings with him, I cant push this trivial thing anymore. I had to face it, I had to face my past. I sighed, I had no other choice. He would keep bothering me until I agree for an appointment.
"Send his company an email, agreeing for this appointment. But do mention that if any irregularities delay the rendezvous then they shan't be given another day for it", I tried to remain composed but inside I was breaking. My past was haunting me and I was slowing breaking from the inside. She nodded and closed the door behind her.
I took a quick glance at my watch, the tine stated 7:30 pm. I took my purse and keys to my Ferrari and drove off to a bar. I was in desperate need of an drink.
