"Broke people always like to pretend that they're rich," -C.T

I hadn't had a nightmare in such a long time.

Well, that would be a lie. 

I had them a lot when I was younger, but then they stopped. For some reason, they came back and it was getting harder to get under control. Sure, I wasn't afraid of my father as much as he liked to think I was, but the subconscious part of me still clung to those memories.

I didn't know why. There was no need to when the damage was already done.

"so..." Vivi poked me as I looked up at her from my painting. "What?" I scowled in annoyance and she smirked as if she was getting ready to tease me. "Someone on your mind?" She questioned and I stared at her as if she was stupid. "What? I'm not thinking about anyone," I rolled my eyes, knowing it was the truth. My mind was as blank as it could be, as it always was when I painted. I liked to be in a neutral state of me so that my works could be as beautiful as me.

"I don't think that's true," Vivi said, pointing to my painting. "You're painting the silhouette of Joaquin again," She tilted her head and I stared as if she grew snakes on her head, really coming to the conclusion that I should just off myself so I didn't have to deal with this—whatever this was. 

"Time to throw this one away then," I kept my face as neutral as possible, not wanting to show how much it bothered me and antagonized my soul. Why the hell was this individual on my mind? I thought nothing of him. Well, at least the painting was as plain as he was, so he should be grateful that someone took the time to paint him and how irrelevant he was. "No, I want to keep it," Vivi piped up in all seriousness. "This one is better than the first," She took the portrait from me. "You actually painted a night sky and outlined his figure in white. You actually put more effort into this," She pouted up at me and I grunted, not wanting to hear the words that were coming out of my mind.

"Well, I guess it beats me having to waste my energy to go put it in the dumpster," I drawled. I was sure that dumpster had millions of germs in it, considering poor people raided it almost every single day. 

"What do you think of Joaquin?" She asked me as I sat down on the couch with a ruffled mind, trying to figure out what to draw next. "Who?" I replied incredulously. I really had no clue as to who she was talking about. "Joaquin, you know Tomas's friend, the one who spilled that juice all over you?" She raised a brow as she gave me more hints and I frowned, having minor PTSD of the occurrence.

"Oh him."

"Yeah, him."

"What about him?" 

Vivi rolled her eyes, probably finding a sense of irritation with me. "Do you like him?" I fixed her with a stern stare, hoping that it would convey all that I had to say. 

"What an interesting question, Vivienne," I rolled my eyes as I thought of something else to paint. "I have no reason to like or dislike him. Wait, that was a lie," I snorted, thinking of all the times he made moves for me to detest him. I had nothing to think about what's-his-name because he didn't matter to me, so I didn't know why she was asking me.

"You know," Vivi sat on the stool in front of me, fixing me with such a look that made me think that she had something on her mind. "We've been friends for twenty years and yet," She bit her lip. "I have never seen you cry. I have never seen you upset to the point where you were violent. I have never seen you talk about your feelings," She let her head drop and I could hear the gut-wrenching sorrow in her voice, see the gears turning in her head as she wondered when it all went wrong. "You used to smile a lot, even speak in that broken accent that you used to have," I said nothing but let her continue on. 

"What happened? I can only think of a few things. Is it because of Sterling or Davina or both?  Was it because of your—"

"Don't."

I put my hand up to stop her from continuing because there was no point in dwelling on what used to be. There was no need in drudging up old feelings and making me relive anything, especially when my mind reminded me every single when I laid in my bed. I was doing so well not thinking about my life and why it was just a shitty memoir of what could've been. "J-just don't," I glared at her, sensing that my hands were shaking. 

Shit, I clutched my pants in aid to stop my hands from trembling like I was afraid because I wasn't afraid. 

"I guess," My voice came out stone-cold as if I was forcing myself to say those words. "It's just the way that I am," I took a deep breath, cracking my neck as I reminded myself of who I was. I was Cheyenne Thorn, nothing more, nothing less.

"Now," I stood up, brushing down my Versace sweatpants. "I have somewhere I need to be," Vivi frowned as she followed suit, staring at me. She was probably extremely confused and she probably felt alienated from me since I never shared anything. When I was growing up, I probably did, not that I remembered because I didn't. When I was a teenager morphing into a man, Sterling made it evidently clear that feelings were useless.

So as directed, I threw them away.

I guessed that I couldn't throw away memories though. 

It was a silent ride home, but nothing could stop the gears turning in my head as I fought to forget needless memories. "God damn it, this isn't me," I whispered to myself as I gritted my teeth, the gates of the Thorn estate opening upon sight.

With a grumbled groan and realizations that Vivi was probably utterly confused and sad, I pulled into my garage of cars, parking my Bugatti in its specific spot. For some reason, I just felt tired and I needed a nap to get myself together. Once I secured my car from the threat of thieves, I made my way inside the house. 

I took dire lengths to take a longer path just to avoid seeing the poor people that my mother felt the need to hire. I wasn't trying to have any interactions nor lay my eyes upon anyone because I wasn't in the right mood for idiotic small talk. I dragged up the stairs, flight after flight, until I reached my room, seeing that the door was cracked.

I narrowed my eyes, clutching the knife I had on my keychain, slowly making my way into the room. I was startled a bit when sobbing noises greeted me and I instantly knew who it was as I stepped inside of my bedroom. 

"Is this gonna become a regular thing," I tilted my head, closing the door behind me. "You know, where I find you in some random part of the house, just crying to yourself?" I folded my arms, staring drolly as the sound of tears invaded my ears. It just had to be my room and it had to be the day where I wasn't feeling up to any pleasantries. "Just because I somewhat tolerate you doesn't mean I like you," I stepped closer as I sighed, locking the door as I walked towards Tara. She was sitting on the floor, back pressed against my bed as her head was in between her legs: a pitiful sight.

I thought about kicking her out of my room just so I didn't have to hear her, but a tiny part of me didn't want her to be caught by Davina and exposed to her ridicule. 

So I sat down next to her. I really shouldn't have done that.

"The hell are you crying for?" I questioned as more sniffles were let out into the room. I didn't think she was going to answer me, considering that I was apart of the family that she was forced to work for, but she turned to me with pleading eyes. "M-master, you can't tell anyone!" She said in a hushed whisper and I raised a brow, staring dead at her.

"Just who exactly would I tell?"

If I didn't trust anyone with the utmost important things about myself, I damn sure wouldn't trust anyone with information as crucial as this. "Contrary to all belief, your word is safe," I grimaced, finding myself to be disgusted with those words. Just who did I think was, being nice and all?

Tara nodded before going to look back at the floor, wiping her tears as her body shook. I figured that she wasn't going to tell me, so I opted to move just a bit. "Master Sterling scares me." 

Her voice was quiet but her words carried so much meaning. I sat back against my bed, mouth set in a grim line as I looked at her. "...why do you say that?" It was no secret that Sterling Thorn could be extremely terrifying when he wanted to, but he had no reason to interact with any of the help. He had never done so because he never regarded their presence, so it was going to be interesting to see what she had to say.

"He just keeps telling the head maid that when he's home, I'm only allowed to tend to him. He makes me lock the door when I go into his study with him and he makes me promise not to tell anyone, should anything happen between us," I fought the urge to gag once I realized what that meant. 

She didn't say anything else and she didn't need to because one could already infer the severity of the situation. Nothing happened yet, but knowing my father and his lack of patience, he was making moves but I wasn't sure why. Tara just sat there, twiddling her fingers and chewing on her lip, her anxiety permeating the air with its stench.

I sighed, looking forward. Here I was, trying to play the role of someone like Tomas. 

"That nightmare that I had," She nodded in remembrance as I spoke. "That was because of Sterling. All of my nightmares are about him and they came because of him," I confessed, unsure of why I was telling her and not someone that actually mattered to me. "He wasn't always a bad person, but he crossed the line and he'll never be someone who I consider my father again." I stated with hate in my tone. I despised that man so much, it was absurd. 

"So if he scares you," I looked at Tara, my eyes warning her with such ferocious intent. "You need to do everything you can to stay out of his way and his sight. If he's giving you that much attention," I gazed at her objectively, seeing that she was somewhat pretty if you looked hard enough. "Then you need to be worried. If there's anything that I know about this man, it's that he's dangerous and unpredictable," My mind thought back to his words that I overheard when he invited me down to his firm. 

"Tell Craig that I've got a personal one of mine to add to the merchandise."

He only ever went to the country club, to his firm, to our mansion, maybe to his hotels, and out to public gatherings. Even then, he never would jeopardize his reputation in areas like those, so he would have to operate in secret and use people that were easy access for whatever he was doing.

I had no clue what he was doing behind the scenes, but I knew it wasn't anything good. He was the shadiest of shady, and it would be extremely bothersome if Tara got herself caught in his spider web. 

I didn't even know why I was telling her this. It provided me no benefit if she was safe or if she wasn't. Davina could just hire a new personal maid for me and that would be the end but somehow, it didn't sit right with me to let this fly past my head. "You know," Tara spoke up after she stopped crying, pinning me with a curious stare as her frown morphed into a grin. "What?" I deadpanned and all of a sudden, I felt arms wrap around my neck.

"The fuck?" I cursed in shock as she clung herself to me. "You're secretly a softie, aren't you?" I blinked in absolute confusion, unsure of what to do. Did I need to push her off of me? What to do? "I'm really not. It's just better that you know so you can protect yourself," My body was beginning to rid itself of tension as I frowned, wondering why she was still holding onto me. I didn't want her germs seeping into my skin longer than needed. 

"Hey. You're getting too comfortable with this affectionate shit."