"I'll stay freakin' rich and you'll stay fuckin' poor," C.T

"Chez, what do you think of this diamond ring?" My best friend twisted her hand back and forth to allow me to see the hundredth ring she bought for herself in the last month. "You think it's pretty?" She turned the camera back to herself, revealing her long red hair and blue eyes, and I rolled my eyes, wondering why she decided to call me via Facetime. I still wasn't used to working this new phone with all of its new technology. "You know I think it's fucking sexy, Vivi," I shook my head with a smirk and she beamed happily, announcing that she was going to Balenciaga for another round of shopping.

Vivi, or as everyone knew her, Vivienne Baudelaire, was the twenty-four-year-old daughter and the only child of Cordelia and Phillippe Baudelaire. She was my best friend, the person I did everything with. We even had a set shopping time every Saturday, the place was up to us when the time came. Her favorite clothing item was her gold fleur heels by Guiseppe Zanotti, though she could've done a lot better, but I had to give her props. They were the really expensive ones. For someone whose net worth was over 10 billion, she worked as a first-grade teacher. I've never really understood why she did that of all things, but she was family to me so I ignored it. She was the only who I could really connect to.

"Aw, thank you, Chez! I appreciate you," She shuffled around on the phone and I huffed, looking at my smartwatch, checking the time. "What are you doing?" She asked me and I sighed. "I'm waiting for Pierre to get here. I need to get to the airfield and I greatly detest being stuck in the city traffic," We both groaned in disgust at the thought of being put through such atrocities. Stuck in a car among cars of the poor.

Pierre, my chauffeur, was taking his sweet time to get here, especially when I told him to be here at 4:00 on the dot and it was 4:03. I was going to have to talk to my dear mother about lessening his pay since he couldn't do what he was paid to do. 

"I wish I could join you, but my mother needs me to help plan daddy's gala," Vivi sighed as I walked around my spacious bedroom, the need to shop filling my veins. "You know how those things are," She whispered and I nodded, understanding how life went. "Tell Cordelia I said hello," I waved to her as she blew me a kiss goodbye, hanging up the call. I let out a sigh of frustration as I walked over to the balcony, trying to see if Pierre arrived yet. Nope, he didn't. I hoped he realized that he was on someone else's time, not his. He was trained early on to know these kinds of things.

As I looked among the green of our extensive land, seeing the many estates and buildings that my parents decided to build for whatever reason, I realized that this part of the state was on its own behavior. Palo Alto Hills, the quiet and greenest part of the city of San Jose, had a lot more wealth than I originally pegged it. That was given because the net worth of the city increased when my father decided to move us here so he could grow out his company. 

It was such a shame he moved us here though. I mean, we managed to move right in, living alongside other people of the same money and income, but it didn't say the same for the majority of the city. If I were to venture even thirty minutes out, I would shudder at the thought of seeing homeless people on the streets. 

It mattered none to me what happened outside of these four walls, so I didn't make it a concern of mine to go poking around in something like that. It was what it was. Luckily, the weather was nice today and my parents weren't home. I had the opportunity to go indulge in my hobby before they returned, provided that Pierre arrived within the millisecond.

I didn't want to be here when they returned, that was for sure. 

"Fuck!" I cursed, willing those unnecessary thoughts from my mind, trying to focus on the problem at hand. I needed to get to the airfield and I needed to get there now. I had no time to waste as I had things to do like come back and plan an outfit for the gala that Vivi was planning. I was always her date to these events because she said it gave her a reason to fend off the potential bachelors her mother imposes on her. 

I heard a knock on the door and I hissed, turning to walk back inside of my room. "You may enter," I called out in a bored tone and one of my mother's dear maids entered timidly. "M-master, Pierre has arrived for you," She stated and I could practically see her knees clicking together from where I was standing. "4:07. Wow, how nice," I bit back sarcastically, reaching over to grab my wallet and my phone. 

"Lead the way," I muttered to the maid as I shut my door, walking over to stand on the elevator with her. Being on the fourth floor had its perks, but it was an absolute nightmare to climb those stairs. "A-are you having a good day so far, master?" The maid asked with a hopeful tone in her voice and I looked at her, wondering if she was talking to me. She looked at me with her green eyes expectantly and I internally grimaced, deciding to throw her a bone. "Yes," That was all I said before the door to the elevator opened and I stepped off, my feet clacking against the marble floor. 

The butler opened the glass door for me as I descended down the limestone stairs, seeing my panicking chauffeur just a few feet away from me standing outside the limo. I snorted in annoyance as I looked at my watch, seeing the seconds just keep increasing.

"Master, I am so sorry to arrive late!" Pierre began to go off into a long tirade about the traffic and whatnot and I put a hand up, staring at up. "Sorry to interrupt your pity party, but do you mind hurrying it up? You were already late as it is," I slipped on my shades, clicking my teeth as he looked down at the ground guiltily. That would teach him. "Are you trying to make me even later?" He shook his head, turning red and I rolled my eyes, deciding to give him a break. "Don't let this happen again because I won't be as forgiving next time," I fixed him with a glare that I knew he could see through my shades. 

He nodded in understanding and I smirked, pleased with myself as he opened the door to the limo, allowing me to slide in with ease. "Alexa," I called out to the device as she lit up on the ceiling of the interior. "Play some classical music," The device started streaming out the calming music and I closed my eyes, allowing my mind to think. 

It seemed that Pierre wanted to get back into my good graces because we arrived at my personal airfield in under ten minutes. It appeared that he understood the severity of the situation, which was good because he didn't want to see what I could do if I was really angered. I told Alexa to stop playing music as my door was opened, a hand held out for me to grab on to it. I looked at it and stared before looking up to the owner, narrowing my eyes. Should I or should I not? 

Pierre was sweating bullets, that much was obvious, and I snorted, grabbing onto his hand. At least it looked cleaner than I thought it was. He helped me out, the wind of San Jose ruffling my dry-cleaned dress pants. "Right this way," Pierre motioned for me to follow after him as he led me to where my private jet was waiting. "What time should I be here to pick you up, master?" My pilot helped me climb the stairs to my brand new private jet and I paused, looking over my shoulder. "I'll be back around 6:30, so be here at 6:15," I muttered, not wanting to take any chances of him not being here when I got back. 

"Okay!" He bowed as much as his thirty-something-year-old back would let him and I chuckled, entering my jet. "Where to, sir?" My pilot asked from the cabin and I shrugged, even though he couldn't see me as I strapped myself up in my chair. "The usual, Harris," I said and the plane began to rise. One thing I liked about Harris was that he was quick when I needed him to be. That was why I was happy to pay him. 

I leaned my head against the window of the jet, admiring the beautiful scenery of my city. San Jose had its quirks, that was for sure. I couldn't deny that it didn't because my father moved us here for some reason. I didn't dwell too much on it because, at my age, my father was still trying to slide his way through and make choices as if he was me.

News flash, he fucking wasn't.

I gritted my teeth as I sighed, closing and opening my eyes. This was no time to get angry. For fuck's sake, I was about to land in the most beautiful city ever created and do what I wanted to my heart's content. I could worry about the repercussions later, but right now, it was all about me. "We'll be landing in five minutes, master," Harris called out to me and I was happy that he managed to cut time in half. He understood what hurry up meant. "Okay," I replied, deciding to be civil as I couldn't help the giddy feeling that filled up my chest as we landed on a private airfield in Europe. 

I sat there for a couple of minutes before the door opened and Harris motioned for me to get into the car provided. "Anders will take you to where you need to go as I already told him. I'll be here for you when you arrive back," I nodded, tapping him on the shoulder as I slid into the backseat of the Rolls Royce Cullinan. I marveled at the beauty of it, reminding myself to invest in one once I landed back in Palo Alto Hills. "We'll arrive there in two minutes. I shall wait for you outside," Anders grunted out in that thick accent and I nodded, taking in the beauty that was Italy.

Once I was let out in front of my destination, tourists and locals wandering about, I sauntered into Versace, stationed on Piazza di Spagna in Rome, removing my black Cartier shades from my eyes. I sniffed the air, the smell of luxury filling my nostrils as my a.Testoni leather brown dress shoes clacked against the floor. I sighed in relief, knowing that I was meant to be here. I had come on a whim, coercing my pilot to speed me over so I could get a new pair of shoes, maybe even some clothes. I wasn't sure yet but I didn't have a limit, so the thought didn't matter. I could get whatever I pulled off of the rack. I cracked my neck, watching as a shop attendant shuffled her way over to me, panting. "What can I do for you, sir?" She asked meekly and I looked her over, grimacing at her Forever 21 attire.

If she was working here, she should dress like it. I was unsure of what kind of establishment they were running around here.

"Hmph," I sneered at her, flicking my amber eyes away from her and eyeing the rack of the latest items that just arrived. "Start a tab for me." I walked away from her, not wanting to catch anything from her as she stared at me in wonder. I was an enigma, of course, she would be staring at me. I just hoped she removed her eyes away sooner rather than later. "What is the name for your tab?" The girl mumbled and I rolled my eyes. I wondered if she would shit herself once she recognized what family I belonged to. 

"Thorn," I smirked, listening to the sound of expensiveness sliding across the floor. I chuckled mockingly as the cashier's eyes widened comically, shaking my head. I saw that she recognized my last name. It wasn't a surprise as Thorn was broadcasted everywhere in the world, no place left unattended. No one could walk 50 feet without hearing my last name and trust me, I loved it. Sometimes it meant that they recognized me, other times, it meant they didn't. Either way, I still loved the rush of feeling that I got when I saw that the poor wished to be like me. 

"O-oh," The girl stumbled over her own feet trying to run back to the counter and I scowled. Such behavior was unpleasant. I ignored the longing stares of the beggarly as they rummaged through the clearance rack. That was nothing. All of the good things that Versace had, they couldn't afford it. For the life of me, I couldn't fathom why they would come into a store and torture themselves over items of splendor, knowing that they could never and would never be able to have it. Hm, sad for them but lucky for me. 

"Cheyenne Thorn."