"Money means nothing when you have lost everything," -J.v.Z

Should I have felt sad?

I wasn't sure. I mean, the man who had shown me nothing but love and affection for the first 16 years of my life kicked me out on my own, sparing me nothing but a hateful glance. I should've felt pain, a crack in my heart even, but I felt absolutely nothing.

I didn't have to deal with the constant reminder of the past with Christine coming and going as she pleased. I didn't have to deal with Sterling and his bullshit whilst trying to keep the real me hidden from him in fear. The only things that I would've been tempted to bring with me were Tara because she showed me more affection and care than anyone did in the house, and for some strange reason, my mother.

But I was glad to be gone.

"Knock, knock."

I jolted amidst my packing, seeing the door to my studio open. One tall and burly man appeared wearing the same old white shirt, denim jeans, and those Timberlands. I was starting to think that it was one of the only things he owned. "Oh, hey, Joaquin," I waved him in and he snorted at all of the boxes and suitcases laying around.

"For someone who was just kicked out, you seem to have everything ready." He pointed to putting all of my clothes and stuff from my studio into a suitcase. "Yeah, I'm not living here," This place was too small and if anything went as planned, I was going to need a lot more room.

He nodded in understanding, walking closer to me. It felt like I had known him forever and whether or not I liked it, I was immensely comfortable around him. He and Tara brought me the same feeling of home, and I treasured it. He came to stand a few feet away from me, eyeing me. "So why exactly did Sterling kick his one and only heir out?" He mocked and I shook my head, grinning.

"It was a combination of things and it was bound to happen," I shrugged, not understanding why he was getting angry for me from the looks of things. "One of the main reasons he felt so appalled the other day was because," I put a finger on my lip, watching his eyes follow the action.

"He didn't like the fact that I was hanging with you," I stated as if it meant nothing and he frowned, taking offense to that. "He even threatened to try to harm you in some way and I wasn't going there with him," I felt a bit guilty about that because I wasn't sure if Sterling was going to keep his word on that. "I'll just have Pierre keep an eye out for you," I said with a smile and Joaquin shook his head.

"No need. I'm not scared of some pompous bastard who can't even threaten me to my face," He folded his arm, his raspy voice turning into a snarl and I smirked, facing him. Hearing him say that just brought on the chills to my arms and the butterflies to my stomach.

Joaquin stepped closer, fixating his gaze on me. "But you really," He cleared his throat. "Are you really going to keep hanging," He put his fingers in quotations as if he was imitating my father. "With me even though Sterling clearly despises me?" If I didn't know it then, I was going to. He was gauging my answer to see if I was truly Sterling's son. "You're here, aren't you?" I raised a brow and I watched as his eyes widened in shock and disbelief, a soft smile soon merging his lips after.

"...hm, well thanks," He whispered, rubbing the back of his neck in that usual sheepish manner of his. It was evident that he was a bit better than the people from my world. Maybe he wasn't as refined or as polished from head to toe as I would've liked, but being in his presence wasn't as bad as I liked to think it was.

And that scared me.

I maneuvered around my cluttered studio, making sure to pack as much as I could. My father did take me off of the family credit card and left me to my own devices, but what he didn't know was that my paintings did a lot for me than I let on.

I watched as my guest leaned sat in my chair, nothing but his eyes on me. He seemed to be deep in thought so I looked at him through my peripheral, waiting for him to speak.

"I know you saw those pills in my bathroom," Joaquin spoke up, sounding scared all of a sudden. I could hear the guilt and shame muddled into one raspy voice as he peered up at me, trying his hardest to stay calm. I put down the trinkets that I was carefully wrapping up, turning to look at him. "Oh yeah, I did," I wasn't going to lie to make him feel better. He was clenching his fists as if he was ashamed of himself and I narrowed my eyes, scoffing. "Yeah, you take antidepressants? What of it?"

He frowned as my words resonated within his brain. I never understood how poor people always felt as if they were wrong for looking out for themselves. "It's just that I've been severely depressed since you know..." He didn't have to say it but I could between the lines. "And you have every right to be." I put a hand on my hip, making sure he knew that I was dead serious.

Joaquin went speechless, his mouth opening and closing like a fish. I found the action to be a funny as I leaned over, picking up a container. "Here," I tossed him a Michael Kors box and he caught it, confusion written all over his face. "A gift for you," He opened it, taking out a limited edition gold watch, anger morphing his features.

"Cheyenne, what is this? Why are you spending money on me? You need it," His voice was hard as he frowned, pinning me with a stare. I shrugged away, waving a hand at him. "Relax. I had it for a while," I knew I was lying but he didn't. "I just realized that you needed a watch because what grown man walks around without a watch?" I explained casually and the pout left his lips. "So take it. Consider it a peace offering and a thank you," I snorted, holding up a finger when he went to speak.

"And no—I won't take it back and I will kill you if you pawn it," I cut my eyes at him, wanting him to understand I was indeed serious. He looked as if he wanted to keep pressing the issue and I knew if I let him, he'd win. "By the next time I see you, because I will," We both blushed at my statement and that familiar fluttering returned to my stomach. "You better be wearing that or you will have hell to pay, Joaquin van Zante," I jutted my finger in his direction and he let out a deep hum, unraveling the watch to slip it on his thick wrist.

"...thanks."

I was oddly pleased with the sound of the luxury watch clicking closed around his arm, concluding that he wasn't totally ugly with the watch on. In fact, I couldn't take my eyes off of him and it was starting to freak me out. What the hell was wrong with me and why was my body suddenly warm all over?

In the middle of my panic session, Joaquin stood up, wiping down his pants as he looked at all of my paintings wrapped up. "I really need to go to work, but call me whenever you need me." I didn't even know why he came if he had to work. This studio and his job were in opposite directions. "I'll answer," His words washed over me like a calm sea, soothing each and every worry that I had, bringing a dull throb to my chest.

I stared openly at him, not knowing what to say in response to that. I held out my fist for him to bump and he chuckled, obliging with my request. "You are one strange rich boy," He commented with no animosity, a glint in his eyes as he gave me a look that I only saw Phillippe give Cordelia. "Hm, not any stranger than you, poor boy," I replied with a smile of my own, realizing that I was smiling without even trying.

I watched him leave, thinking about what that man been through. He was fairly strong, both physically and mentally. He had a lot on his plate, that much I knew when I had Pierre run a background check on him. I couldn't find much except the fact that he had a pile of debt from his wife's cancer treatments as well as her funeral. He was struggling to make ends meet as it was, and yet he took the time to cater to my feelings and take care of me for a night.

From the coldest part of my heart, I wished that I could do something to alleviate his burden. No one else, probably not Tomas and definitely not Vivi, but no one else could see the pain that he was covering up. He was hurting, a lot. He was really trying to better himself, but I could tell that he thought of himself to be a total failure and that wasn't helping.

Hm, just maybe.

After a lot of pondering, I came to a conclusion. "Pierre," I said once the man picked up the other side of the call. "I need you to do me a favor or two."

Within ten minutes, Pierre was at my door, a file in hand and a confirmation letter in the other. He was breathing heavily and I rolled my eyes, wondering why I kept him on my own dime. Maybe because he was actually useful. "What did you find?" I asked as I shut the door behind him, watching him open the file.

"The eight-year-old girl's birth name is Holly Alayne van Zante, but she currently goes by Holly Richards," Pierre read out to me and I motioned for him to continue. "She's currently in the foster care system and she hasn't been adopted yet. It also says here that she is a first-grader at the public school Bellevue Elementary in class 13," I smirked to myself, putting a plan ahead. "Pierre," I clapped my hands together as I turned to his skeptic figure, feeling elated for once. "We're going on a mission."

In the 25 minutes that it took me to drive to Bellevue in the city of San Jose, Pierre managed to get a few things out of me. "So that man whose house you were at, this is for him?" He questioned, closing my door as he led me inside the debilitated public school. "Who knows?" I didn't say anything that would've given me away, but Pierre knew it. I elbowed him in annoyance, using my handkerchief to wipe my hand as soon as the creaky old door closed behind us.

This school was nothing like the private schools back in Tamarama, or even the elite academy that Vivi and I went to. It looked as if there was no care provided to this building and as we walked towards the principal's office, I questioned why Vivi wanted to work here.

"Class 13 is just down the hall," I heard the receptionist say to Pierre as he came back out, motioning for me to follow him. I walked past, seeing all of the drawings from the kids on the wall. I couldn't remember a time where my father put a painting of mine on the wall in the kitchen like regular parents do. Was that something only poor people did, and I was just missing out?

It appeared that I came in the nick of time because my best friend came barreling out, confusion buried in her brows as she took in the sight of me.

"Chez, what are you doing here?" Vivi furrowed her brow as I stepped to her. "I haven't heard from you all week," I tilted my head, wondering if Cordelia or Phillippe broke the news to her. Probably not. "Sorry, I was just house hunting since Sterling kicked me out," I shrugged casually, wincing at the loud screech that came out of her mouth.

"He did what now?!" Her face turned red from fury as she pulled out her phone, going to angrily tap away. "I'll give that man a few words!" I shook my head at her, diffusing her stress. "No need," I said, realizing that she or her family never knew. "I'll explain to you everything so please," I let my hand fall to my side as she tilted her head. "Do not worry," She hesitantly put her phone back in her pocket before reality hit her.

"Wait, why are you here? You would never step foot into a place like this," She pursed her lips together and I sighed with a nod. "Yeah, you're right. I'm getting hives just from standing here," I deadpanned with a chuckle. "But you have someone of interest, someone very important." I began and she waited for me to continue. "She's in your class, Holly, perhaps?" I offered and she studied me with uncertainty before nodding, obliging with my wishes. She walked back to the doorway and I had absolutely no clue what I was going to.

"Holly dear, can you come here for a second?" Vivi called out into her classroom and it made me realize that she genuinely loved doing what she did. Despite crossing over her world into this one, she did it with joy and that inspired me.

All of a sudden, a short little girl with curly brown hair that came to her shoulders came out to stand in front of Vivi, looking scared and shy all in one. "This man wanted to meet you. He's my best friend so you're safe," She explained and Holly came up to me slowly, looking me up and down. "Is he the one with the Michael Kors purse?" Her voice was small and sweet and Vivi giggled, shaking her head. "No, that was me," So she was the girl who had no experience with luxury. I held out my hand, a small smile on my face as she came closer.

"I'm Holly," She muttered meekly, taking my hand with dubiousness, squeezing it tightly. Hm, just like her father. Her green eyes stared at me in hope as I took in her ratted figure, her clothes unkempt and unruly. Hm, that wouldn't do at all. I crouched down to her level, feeling a sense of due diligence and duty.

"And I'm Cheyenne Thorn."