"The rich only value the rich. Nothing else,"-C.T

"What is it that you needed from me, Sterling?"

I folded my arms, looking said man into his brown eyes, finding some contentment with the way his jaw clenched upon the sound of his name. "Cheyenne, I am your father and I am getting sick and tired of you not addressing me as so," I had the urge to scoff at the way he sounded: so pathetic.

His personal assistant scattered from the room like a roach, making me realize that he was the same everywhere he went. The same cold and ruthless bastard. "Just tell me why I'm here," I grumbled, knowing I had plans later on. I was supposed to be meeting Vivi and the cavalry at the movie theater later on, and I didn't want to risk being late (not that I would care if I was) or my father finding out about my plans.

Sterling pinned me to the floor with his stare, promising eternal suffering if I didn't cooperate with him. "As you can see, Cheyenne," He turned around to walk along the Dalbergia wood, one of the rarest forms of hardwood flooring in the entire world. "I want to make sure that you understand just how important you are to this industry," His tone was careful and it was tight, letting me know what kind of conversation this was leading into.

One that I dreaded.

"I need to make sure that you understand everything there is to know about my hotels because," He turned to me with narrowed eyes, daring me to defy him and I clenched my teeth, trying to keep myself in check. "This soon will be yours." Sterling motioned to the massive office that he owned, to the stack of papers that discussed deals between his hotels and others, and out of the heady glass window that showcased the entire city of Palo Alto.

I blinked at him, wondering if now was the time to laugh. "I don't know what you plan on doing or what you have been doing, son," The evil glint in his eyes told me that he knew a lot more than he let on. "But one thing is for certain," He turned to face me, steadily stalking over to me as if I was prey that needed to be cornered.

Sterling finally stood tall and strong over me, a menacing aura exuding from his figure as he leaned into whisper into my ear. "You're going to do this for me when and how I want, Cheyenne," I swallowed, gritting my teeth in vexation. "Because if you don't," His tone gradually darkened and I felt as if I had a chokehold around my throat. I hated feeling like this, feeling so inferior. I hated that I still flinched no matter how times I told myself that I wouldn't.

"Well, you don't want to know what I'll do."

He chuckled before taking a step back as someone knocked on his office door, smoothing down my collar. I closed my eyes and opened them back up, trying not to seethe in rage. This piece of shit trying to call himself a father. "Wow," I plastered a fake smile on my lips, slapping his hand away, much to his dismay. "You call me son, yet you're standing here like you're some pompous ass king of the world, threatening me?" I tilted my head with a harsh laugh, a bittersweet flavor setting in on my tongue as the knocks kept coming.

We stared at each other, amber into brown and I just could not deal with it. "I'll never be good enough for you," I gritted my teeth, clenching my hands and counting to ten. There was no need, absolutely no need to expose such feeling to such a despicable man like him. Compartmentalize, Cheyenne. Swallow and ignore. "Will I?"

Sterling raised a brow with a smirk as if he found everything funny. I shook my head, knowing this man was going to rot in the deepest part of Hell when he died. I didn't know how one man could be like this.

"I'll see you tonight at dinner, son," He tried to evoke such tranquility in his voice as if he was such a saint when the door opened. "Oh, Bryan," Sterling waved the man in with such welcome and I frowned, looking at his attire, wondering why he and the poor boy wore such similar clothes. I didn't even know how my father knew him by name. "Just the man I wanted to see," His smile morphed into one of evilness as he turned to me. I started walking towards the door, shooting him a look of vibrant hate as I slammed the door.

I started to walk away but then I halted, putting to reason that someone as powerful and as wealthy as Sterling Thorn never associated with anyone who didn't have the same income as him. With that thought, I held my breath, putting my ear up to the door.

"We got the girls ready for tonight's shipment," I frowned, wondering what that dude was talking about. "Good," Sterling replied with a casual clap of his hands. "Tell Craig that I've got a personal one of mine to add to the merchandise," He said and it fell silent for a moment before they both started chuckling deviously.

What the hell was he talking about?

Well, it was whatever.

After I had left in a frenzied hurry, I went to go meet my best friend for her date. I refused to call it a group date because I didn't consider myself to be a part of that group. This was only out of support and nothing else. "Hey!" Vivi waved to me as I slowly crept down the streets of San Jose, wondering where I was at. I was a good thirty minutes away from Palo Alto Hills and I had no clue where I was or why people were looking at me.

I had never felt so out of place and so uncomfortable in my life. "Hi," I grumbled, seeing Tomas and the other one walking up from behind her. "Can you believe I had to park in a parking deck?" I pointed to the deck across the street from Cinemark, shuddering at the thought. She shook her head with a smile, leaning into my arm as her boyfriend greeted us. "Hey babe, hey Cheyenne!" He waved happily and I stared back at him, offering a grim smile in return. I couldn't even call it a smile, if I was being honest. I barely paid the taller man any attention, but I could feel his curious gaze.

"Where is your vehicle?" I questioned, not hearing the jingling of keys that I heard last time when I first met him. "Oh!" Tomas chimed in as I looked around for his vehicle. "Mine is at home and Joaquin needs to fix some things on his, so we Uber'd." I blinked in confusion and in mild disgust, coming to terms with the fact that he actually put his hands to work in those contraptions. Didn't we have people of a certain class who did that?

"Vivi, what's an Uber?" I turned to look at her and she shrugged, having no idea on how to answer the question. Tomas scoffed, shaking his head. "I guess I have a lot to teach you guys," He teased and I gave him a stare, questioning why I even talked to him in the first place.

"Never say that again," I deadpanned as they led us to into the civilian movie theater. I looked around, hearing the sounds of people laughing and giggling among themselves, and I scowled in annoyance, feeling as if something was crawling all over me.

"Wow," I said but it wasn't meant in surprise. My personal movie theater had a lot more amenities than this one seemed to offer. I just kept my comments to myself and followed them. They seemed to know best on how this worked.

"Quino," Tomas turned to his best friend. "What took you so long to call me back this morning?" He grumbled and the poor boy picked up on it. "I had to pay the rent this morning," Joaquin replied with ease, running a hand through his hair. I frowned and made a face. What was rent? "Oh, you rent?" I asked with mock surprise in my tone and he didn't catch it as he nodded in reply, but Vivi pinched me in the side. "Never would've guessed."

I knew it from the start.

He looked like the type of person to rent. "Yeah, something wrong with that?" The tall man raised a brow, daring a response and I went to retort, but I decided not to. Vivi warned me, so instead, I just opted to talk about something else.

"Oh, we have to wait in the line?"

I was absolutely bewildered by this revelation. "Yes. Contrary to what rich people seem to think, there's a waiting line in pretty much all places," The poor boy folded his arms and I took the time to look at his attire. Contrast to my Versace and a.Testoni, he wore black jeans and a grey shirt with Nike shoes. At least the shoes made the outfit.

Tomas offered to pay for all of us, but Vivi countered and told us that she had already bought the tickets in advance. She had us out here wasting our time, standing in line with a bunch of weird people. "What are we going to see?" I questioned, already having insights to flee the scene. My disguise was impeccable, but I couldn't be too sure.

"Oh," Vivi waved with a chuckle of unease. "Just a movie that should be good," I narrowed my eyes, wondering what plan she had up her sleeve. 

An hour and 47 minutes later, I had planned out seven ways for Vivienne Baudelaire to die painfully and slowly. "I hate you so much," I hissed, shaking and scratching myself. "You know how much I hate horror movies," I hated myself even more for being out here with them as if they were my friends. News flash, they were nowhere near that. "I'm sorry!" Vivi apologized but I couldn't hear her over the sound of lies.

"I have hives," I huffed, fixing my Dolce & Gabanna sunglasses as I checked my watch, trying to remember where I parked my Bugatti Veyron. I was perturbed by the fact that I had to use the parking deck like the mass of the civilians did, and I was going to be extremely angry if they even dared to touch my vehicle. "What, the theater seats weren't clean enough for you? Weren't made of the material of your liking?" The sheepish bear piped up as if someone asked for him to, which I was sure no one did.

"If you must know," I sighed, wondering why he felt the need to talk to me. I was doing my best, minding my business, keeping quiet, and allowing Vivi and Tomas to do their thing. The more I did that, the faster time seem to go by and we could leave the slums. "Yes, the seats weren't clean enough," He rolled his eyes as if he was expecting that answer. "And I'm allergic to cowhide leather, the cheap stuff they use to fund crap like this," I motioned to the movie theater, fighting the urge to scratch my arms.

"Oh!" Vivi's eyes widened in surprise and in sadness, realizing the mistake. "Don't worry about it," I waved a hand. "Oh? Rich boy has a weakness?" The poor boy just couldn't help himself and I gave him a glare, knowing full well that I started this. "Yeah, one that I can fix with money. Can you say the same about yourself?" I cocked a brow and his nostrils flared, his eyes darting away from me.

He may have been tall and he may have been scary looking, but Cheyenne Thorn was no one to cross.

"I just want to know do you have any idea just who you're talking to?" I tilted my head up at him, wondering if he truly understood. "Listen clearly, poor boy. I am Cheyenne Thorn. Need I say more?" I was getting sick and tired of him not respecting me and my name. He was slandering who I was by even looking at me and breathing in my presence, so the least he could do was understand the simple concept.

I wasn't a violent person, but this individual was clearly testing me. He didn't know me and he shouldn't be acting as if he did.

"Hey," Vivi muttered quietly, directing my attention away from him to her, telling me to mind it. Tomas was visibly agitated, so I just sighed and kept walking. If he had something to say to me, then he could say it. "Come on," I said to the mass and all of a sudden, several flashes and clicks captivated our attention and my eyes widened as I began to run. 

The fucking paparazzi.

"This way!" I kept my head low as we all ran into one of the stores on the street, shaking off the grubby hands of the media. I made sure that they couldn't tail us, running and turning corners with ease, making use of the track skills I got in high school. "Are we, are we safe?" Vivi panted, clutching her knees as Tomas held her up. 

"I think so," I rolled my eyes, mad at myself for even telling them to run. What did I care about them getting run over by the crazy journalists and reporters?

It had to do with the fact that Vivi was the only person I called myself caring about, and I didn't want her parents to find out that she was fraternizing with people that we all hated. I definitely didn't want my parents to recognize me on the television because that would be just a disaster. Not that I minded. 

I wanted to say some part of me didn't want any repercussions to fall back on the poor boy or Tomas because they didn't deserve it, but I was going to keep that thought to myself. As far as I was concerned, I didn't have to explain myself to anyone whose name wasn't Cheyenne Alexander Thorn.

We finally broke free from the stupor once we realized that the media was gone. "Wow, you really don't want to be seen with us," Joaquin narrowed his eyes, his voice filled with some sort of emotion that I didn't recognize. He almost sounded resentful and offended as he looked at me, frowning intensely. Tomas sighed, looking at Vivi for answers and I rolled my eyes with a shrug to my shoulders. There was no need in explaining when they couldn't understand.

"Yea, I really don't."