"There is nothing like the fresh breath of the air once you realize you're free," -C.T

"Ugh..."

I rolled over in what seemed to be a bed, confused at why I felt linen instead of my usual silk sheets. My head was pounding like someone was beating it with a hammer and I felt nauseous. I opened my eyes blearily, not seeing my familiar canopy curtains. 

"The hell?" I sat up slowly, feeling cotton rubbing against my torso. I looked around the room, not seeing my usual spacious bedroom, but one that was fair-sized with a closet, a bathroom, and a dresser with a t.v on top. It was silent and I looked down at the blue comforter, seeing that I was wearing some oversized grey top that smelled like mint.

I felt horrible. "Where am I?" I tried to rack my brain for clues, but it hurt to do so. I just stood and dragged myself towards the door like a slug, hoping that whoever was on the other side would have some answers. Before I could even put my hand on the knob, the door swung open. "I—oh," 

All of my thoughts were washed away when I landed my eyes on one shirtless Joaquin van Zante in sweatpants with a glass of water and pills in both of his hands. "Hey," He greeted me with a warm smile and a sheepish nod. I couldn't stop myself from admiring his very-well built and tanned torso. He probably did a lot of construction work or something like that because his body was better built than mine.

Hmph.

"You're up, I see." He walked in and shut the door, handing me the pills along with the water. "Take this so you'll feel better later," He demanded and I had no clue why I cowered from his strong gaze as he loomed over me like a large shadow. 

"You make my shirt look good," He hummed in both appreciation and amusement, enticing a small blush from me. His shirt came to my knees and I was sure I looked more than stupid. "It's not made of the fancy materials that you probably would've liked, but it's what I had for you." Joaquin tilted his head and I rolled my eyes with a shrug. 

I had no idea how to navigate this situation. Bits and pieces were slowly coming back to me, and I wasn't sure how to deal with the fact that he saw me cry. I didn't want him to look down on me nor treat me any differently. "So rich boy," I looked up from the floor, catching his wink as he headed towards the door, his back muscles flexing with each move he made. "How do you take your eggs?" He raised a brow, daring me to defy him. I felt shy, I didn't know why. "Scrambled with cheese," I muttered and he grinned, and I found that the action lit up sparks inside of my stomach.

"You can take a shower in there," He pointed to the bathroom across from us. "I left you a shirt and the smallest pair of sweats that I could find," He sounded apologetic and it took me a moment to realize that I was in his space, a place so much different than mine. "That's okay," I whispered, downing the pills with a chug of water. This was new territory: letting someone else see me cry, letting someone else hug me as fiercely as he did (Tara didn't count because she still didn't know the backstory), and now, staying in someone else's space.

And the sad part about it was I felt no shame or guilt. There were no voices of Sterling telling me that I was doing wrong. For the first time as I took that step towards the bathroom, I could breathe and fuck, was it a nice breath of fresh air. 

"Just come down when you're done," Joaquin waved me off and I stepped inside of the bathroom, seeing that it was small in size, but it screamed Joaquin. I walked over to the sink, picking up a fresh toothbrush that had a note attached.

For you, your majesty.

-J

I snorted in amusement, rolling my eyes as I began to brush my teeth. Once I was done, I shed my clothes and turned around to turn on the shower. Out of the corner of my eye, a pill bottle that sat on a ledge near the toilet caught my eye. I tilted my head and walked over to pick it up, narrowing my eyes once I figured out what type of prescription it was from its name.

"Interesting," I gazed at nothing in particular, frowning as I made my way to the shower. With a pull of the glass door, the water began to flood away all of my worries. I wasn't thinking about Sterling, or Christine, or Davina. I wasn't even thinking about Vivi or Joaquin.

I was thinking about me.

 And it was beautiful. 

"Not my body wash, but I guess it'll do," I said to myself as I picked up the bar of Irish Spring, the mint smell invading my nostrils. I used the fresh washrag, trying not to cringe at the feel of it as I moved it along my skin, the scent becoming much more pronounced. 

This was what Joaquin smelled like.

Somewhere along the way, I started to feel comfortable and sane. 

Once I was dried up and dressed in a white cotton shirt with grey sweatpants that were a little baggy on me, I made my way down the steps of the small townhome that Joaquin occupied. He had pictures of a woman, who I assumed was Alyssa. He had pictures of a little girl, who I thought was his daughter and he looked much happier than he did now. I frowned at the thought of how much pain he went through.

"In here, Cheyenne!" Outside of Tara, Sterling, Cordelia and Phillipe, and my mother, he was the first person to ever call me by my name and it sounded damn good. 

I reached the landing, seeing a small living room leading into a kitchen that looked nothing like the one that my family had at home. The smell of cheese filled the air as the sound of crisping permeated my ears. Joaquin looked domestic as ever with the green apron on his torso, flipping the bacon with ease. 

"Take a seat. It'll be done in just a second," I admired the way his muscles moved under that apron as I took a seat on one of the stone chairs. He didn't have a bad setup, but it would take time to get used to it. "Here you go!" He handed me a regular plate filled with scrambled eggs, three slices of bacon, and two cinnamons rolls with some store-bought orange juice.

Hm.

He slipped off his apron, watching me nervously as I slowly scooped up food on the fork, wondering if this was a bad decision. Once the food hit my mouth, I had a moment to think as flavors attacked my buds.

It wasn't what my chef prepared but it was okay because someone actually wanted to make me this food. He wasn't paid to do so, but he did it because he wanted to, and that thought alone made this food better. 

Besides, it wasn't as bad as I thought it would be. "You like it?" He questioned and I hesitantly nodded with a blush to my cheeks. That was all he was gonna get from me, and he chuckled with a plop to the seat across from me. 

"Someone kept calling your phone, so I answered it," I raised a brow, wondering what balls this sheepish man had as I ate more food. "It was your chauffeur. Turns out, he wanted to come and get you when you were finished," I nodded, knowing that Pierre was probably shitting himself with worry and was probably flying through the streets to get here. 

"You know, I didn't realize you had a tattoo," Joaquin leaned on his elbows, his gaze penetrating my face. "Huh?" I realized that he probably saw it when he changed my clothes for me last night. "Oh yeah? It says, 'it's better to sin than not to,'" I pointed to the right side of my chest where the black marking sat.

"Any particular reason you wanted that?" I shook my head. "It's just a reminder of what a life I could've lived if I chose to leave my mother and Sterling," I explained, feeling small under his intense stare. "Interesting. I like it," He reached down and plopped a Walmart bag in the seat next to him. "I didn't wash your clothes," I let out a breath of relief. I had certain methods and care for my clothes.

"So I just bagged them for you," Joaquin watched me eat every last thing on this plate, even taking it away from me when I went to go throw it away. "Nah, in this house, we wash our own plates," I fought a scowl, hearing the doorbell ring. "That's probably Pierre," I threw out and he nodded, but none of us made the move to go the door.

Even I knew that I didn't want this to end. I wanted to know why he was the one person I told everything to. I wanted answers.

"Come on," The poor boy held out a hand for me to grasp as he helped me up, ruffling my hair with his big hand. "It's time for us to go back to our own worlds," He said, but I could hear the animosity in his tone as he led me to the door. "Hi, Master Cheyenne!" Pierre waved and I had to admit, a small part of me was happy to see him.

Joaquin handed me my bag of clothes as I stepped out into the radiant sunlight, turning to look to him. He was watching at me with a look I couldn't identify and I looked at his not-so-plain face, feeling a trace of agony at the thought of having to leave. 

"Thank you," It was probably the first time I had ever thanked someone, but I meant it wholeheartedly. "No need," He waved me off, that same grin morphing his lips as his raspy voice motioned through my ears. We both stared at each for a hot minute, sharing the same air and the same breath. We both knew things about each other, things that we probably told no one else, but it was because of that reason that I could see differently.

With a turn of my heel and one last thump of my heart, I bid farewell. "I'll see you later, poor boy." I threw a chuckle over my shoulder as I sauntered over to where Pierre was waiting, feeling on top of the world.

"I'll be waiting, rich boy."

As Pierre shut the door, I stared at Joaquin's retreating figure through the tint of the glass. "Is he a friend of yours?" Pierre questioned as he began to drive. "Hm, who knows?" I leaned against the seat, an unconscious smile on my face.

But all good things had to come to an end.

Within 30 minutes, we were rounding the fountain of the Thorn estate, the gardener greeting me upon site. I tossed a wave his way as Pierre gathered my things, taking it up to my room for me. I sighed as I drudged through the house, closing the door. The atmosphere just made me mad without even trying and as I went to walk towards the stairs, something stopped me.

"Hm, I thought I was hearing things when one of my contacts told me he saw you interacting with the poor," I stopped in my tracks, hearing a dark voice coming from the living room. "But seeing you wear those cheap and disgusting rags proves that I only heard correctly," I gulped, slowly treading over to see Sterling standing up, his hands behind his back as he shook his head. 

Davina sat on the couch, her eyes averted as I entered. "The hell are you talking about?" I knew what he was talking about. Vivi and I discussed it and it was only a matter of time before he figured it out. "You think I'm a fool, don't you? You think I don't know about your hanging out with that gutter rat you call Joaquin!?" His voice rose in timbre as the veins on the side of his head became more pronounced.

"You have any idea how much of an embarrassment that is towards me, to hear that my son is out congregating with the fucking poor?!" His voice was loud, raging and booming off of the walls as he snarled venomously at me. I stood my ground with a stare of my own, wondering who gave him the right to talk about Joaquin like that. 

"I don't know what your issue is, but I'm not going to stand here and let you talk about my friend as if you know him!" I interrupted, watching his eyes contort into fury. "Friend, you say?" He stepped closer, a dangerous aura emitting from him. "Maybe if I do something about this friend, you won't dare have the gall to say that in my presence ever again," The threat in his tone was loud and clear, and irritation bubbled inside of my blood, a clench of my hands reminding me that this was the very man that I loathed.

The smirk of his lips let me know that he thought he had power over me. The memory of me crying in Joaquin's arms burned its rite in my mind and I just let it go. "Go ahead," I shrugged and he raised his brows, not expecting me to say that. "If it'll make you feel so powerful. Like the piece of shit that you are, you have to make everyone else's lives miserable because you're a bitter old man." He scowled with a point of his finger in my face, his jaw tightening up as he inched closer and closer to me.

"How dare you talk to your father like that? Your manners have gone down the drain since you've been in the presence of that mongrel," He snickered in disgust, the emanation of a predator seeping into his skin. His words triggered something inside of me and I snapped. 

"YOU'RE NOT MY FATHER, STERLING!" With all that I had, all of my might, I yelled the one that I've been thinking for the last eight years. I was getting sick and tired of him trying to use that against me because it had no meaning.

"My father died the night he tried to kill me."

He went silent with no guilt in his mind, standing up straight with a crack to his neck. He let out a deep sigh, though it sounded like he was taunting me. "Well, if you feel that way," His voice was terse and rigid as he pushed his glasses up on his face, ignoring Davina's pokes and prods, her way of getting him to stop and think about what he was doing. It was unneeded, considering he was an irrational man. "Get your things and remove yourself from my house."

A chord sounded throughout the mansion as he stared coldly at me, Davina's gasp merging in with my frozen figure. "Sterling, don't you dare!" My mother went to yell, but my father put his hand up in a warning stance, not removing his eyes from me. 

"Let's see how you live without any money or any family." 

A myriad of emotions billowed through me. I didn't know if I was scared, angry, unsure. All I knew was that as soon as he said that, happiness burst through my core and I ran three flights of stairs one by one, unable to stop my smiling. I couldn't believe it; this moment was finally here. I ignored Davina's loud screeches of commotion as I ran into my bedroom, pulling out my suitcases. 

I didn't even care, I just threw all of my clothes in the bag. I had no care in the world, I had nothing. I had waited for this day to come and now that it was finally here, I was ecstatic. No longer would I be bound by my father and his endless threats. No longer would I be bound by my fear of the past. No longer would I have to hold back the real me. 

"Whatever," I smiled brightly, the pressure and the weight leaving my shoulders. "I'll have Pierre send me the rest," I walked back into my bedroom, throwing everything that mattered into my bags. There was no greater joy than this: the man who helped create me was kicking me out. He probably thought that I was going to beg for him to let me stay, that I would give in to his desires, but that was not me.

"Don't go, Master Cheyenne," I heard a voice and I looked up to see Tara standing in the doorway as I zipped up my last suitcase. She whimpered and her cries tugged at my heartstrings. "Please don't," The look on her face was as if she was begging me not to leave. Not because she didn't want me to, but because she was scared. 

I frowned as she walked over to me, her face encased in fear as I remembered what she told me about my father. Now that I was going to be gone, she would no doubt be in danger. No one knew what Sterling was up to, but judging by the number of burly and poor men that he met in the backyard when he thought no one was looking, he was up to no good.

With the numerous exchanges of stacks of cash that I witnessed him giving people on the street, the number of walks that I caught him taking through the red-light district in the urban parts of San Jose, a part of me knew what he was doing.

Sex trafficking.

I finally could feel pain and fear for others, and it came through strong once Tara stepped even closer to me. "Please don't go..." She whispered and I sighed, walking over to the desk where my notepad sat. I scribbled a couple of things down, hoping that it didn't come back to bite me in the ass. "Here," I snatched the paper off, handing it to her quietly.

I inched closer to her, watching her put the note in her zipped up pocket. "What I just gave you is an out," I whispered lowly, not knowing if Sterling had ears or eyes. "The first one will take you to a location in San Jose, just outside of Palo Alto. If I'm not there, the second address will take you to a friend of mine who's located in the heart of San Jose. He'll know what to do if you don't reach me by then. My number is the first one and Joaquin's is the second," Her eyes lit up in recognition, relief etched in them.

"Whatever you decide to do, do it quickly and make sure no one sees you." 

If Sterling had his eyes on her, she was going to be targeted at all times, so she had to be smart about it if she didn't want to end up under his control. She nodded fervently, biting her lip. "Let not a single soul know about this," My voice came out quieter and she leaned in to hug me, making her decision within her head. "If I were you, I'd leave anytime after 11:30 pm." 

That was all I said before I willingly patted her shoulders, hearing the sounds of footsteps outside my door, ones that I recognized as Sterling's. "Hmph, your service was lackluster," I shot her a glare, telling her to play along with it if she didn't want him to catch onto it. Hm, what did I care for?

"I-I'm sorry, Master Cheyenne," She nodded, understanding what I meant and I fought a smirk before grabbing my bags. "Make yourself useful and carry my things to my Escalade," I grunted out in a forceful stern tone and she grabbed the last remaining extra-large suitcases, following me out of my room. The bastard was standing there, his arms folded as he sneered at me.

"You aren't going to do well on your own, Cheyenne," Sterling spat coldly, not sparing me a glance as he eyed Tara hungrily. I snorted in disgust, heading to the elevator. "Oh yeah?" I smirked sardonically, knowing that he had no clue how prepared I was for this. "You'd be surprised," He narrowed his eyes as the doors came shut, the car moving between floors within an instant.

I was getting ready to leave behind everything and everyone I thought I knew and go survive on my own. I shot Tara a look of gratitude as the doors opened and we walked out into the main foyer. Tara wheeled my bags to the main door as I grabbed some of my keys, hearing heels on the floor. "Stay safe, Cheyenne," I turned to see Davina perched by the stairs, her blue eyes contorted into some emotion of panic and fear. I furrowed my brow as she let a tear fall from her eyes. "Please," Her voice was hollow and low and this was the first time I had ever seen her cry in front of me. 

I frowned, not knowing what to say at this display. I had no clue how Sterling treated her when I wasn't around because they put on this facade as if they were the world's greatest lovers. Even if I knew nothing, I glided over to her, a bit saddened to leave her, but part of me knew that it wouldn't be long before she overcame her fear. 

"You're a lot stronger than you think," I took the words that someone told me and uttered them to her, watching her eyes widen. With one last look, I descended from the Thorn estate for the last time.

I wouldn't admit it aloud, but when I closed that door behind me, I felt immensely free.