Jac woke up in the familiar fluffy pink bed sheets of her bedroom. She looked at her room in a new light, more appreciative of the luxury she lived in. She adored the dark blue painted walls expressing a silhouette of the Eiffel Tower. She was thankful for the large flat screen TV and the macbook at her high end desk set - because Windows was for basic girls. Spending a whole four hours in a dusty, just-for-peasants jail cell was not exactly her preferred living accommodations.  

Of course, she was still seething with anger. Being in a stolen car had her on potential charges for underage drinking but luckily her mother was there to save the day with her checkbook. Not that that saved her from the fury of the ruthless, Eve Lexington.

As Jac tried to sit up in her bed, she felt the dizzy, nauseating feeling that she knew all too well; a hangover. 'Why did I have to drink?'

She forced herself out of bed anyway, slipping into her Versace robe. Looking to her bedside now, she wasn't surprised to find her whole iPhone collection missing from their Vera Wang cases. It was the same punishment she got with everything she did. Her father, Jeffrey, was too nice and gentle to ever be as brutal as her mother.

Jac was almost grateful her connection to the world was shut down. It gave her an excuse to ignore Damon - the one who got her into this mess.

She was tying her hair into a messy bun when the butler, Steve; styled messy blonde hair and a british accent that gave away his orientation came into the room with a familiar flustered expression. "Eve wants you downstairs."

Jac groaned. "I have to take a shower."

"She wants you down now," and when Jac still stood planted where she was, he sighed. "You're gonna get me fired."

"Right, sorry." She followed Steve down the long descending stairs of the Lexington estate and down another flight of stairs. Every wall in the house resembled some kind of attraction from the city of Paris. Jeffery Lexington constantly told people he was a descendant of a monarch from the French Revolution - everyone considered the man a wealthy liar.

Eve was, as usual, lounging in the hot tub out on the backyard patio. Jac had almost gotten all of her looks from her mother; the same long jet black hair, the devious seductively squinted eyes and big, full lips that Jac promised to get plastic surgery on someday. The only features she maintained from her father was summer tan skin and dark emerald green eyes.

Eve did not hear her come in, still basking in the heavy sun.

Steve cleared his throat. "Uh, she's here."

"Thanks, Steve, be a doll and go fetch me some margaritas, okay?"

Steve nodded, gave Jac one last sympathetic glance, and retreated to the kitchen. Jac stayed by the sliding transparent patio door, waiting for Eve to lay on the punishment.

"So me and your father have discussed what we're going to do with you."

Jac rolled her eyes at the mention of her father. They rarely ever made decisions together. Sometimes, although Jac hated to think that way, wondered if maybe her parents were getting a divorce. They were so different, complete opposites. Jac didn't believe in the whole 'opposites attract 'bullshit. She and Damon seemed different. He was the Alabaster's Golden Party Boy she was Alabaster's future valedictorian. Yet they had alot in common. Her parents didn't.

"We're cutting you off for three months."

"What?" Jac's heart stopped like an American Express being denied. She had just heard the four words that would change her life forever. Getting cut off was like losing a life of a loved one. Jac couldn't imagine what she'd do without her money, without the one thing that could make her happy.

Like a servant to her master, she quickly fell down to her knees, grabbing her mother's manicured hands. "Mom, please, don't do this to me! Its all I have!" Jac wasn't one to beg but desperate times - like getting cut off - called for desperate measures.

"I told you," Eve said, snatching her hand away. "If you're going to get drunk, don't get caught. You're the school's number one choice for valedictorian. Do you know how much damage control I had to do?"

"I know, I know, I know," Jac pleaded. "But it was Damon's fault I got caught. How was I supposed to know the car was stolen?" Suddenly Jac had the urge to get her phone back and tell Damon exactly how she felt. He'd just gotten her cut off and for what? To take a spin in his neat car? It was absolutely ludicrous to Jac.

Eve ran her fingers through her hair, lips pursed. "Well, when you put it that way..."

Jac's heart began to flutter with hope.

"Fine, you're cut off from Damon."

"What?" That wasn't exactly what she wanted.

Just then Steve came back out holding two margaritas. He set the  drinks on the silver edge of the hot tub and then stood awkwardly to the side.

"Goodbye, Steve." Eve barked with the a dismissive hand.

He quickly edged out of the room.

"You're not serious are you?" Jac asked although Eve was never one to kid. She couldn't stop seeing Damon. They'd been together since preschool and things had just started working out for them - well at least she'd thought so until Paisely and Erika started giving her weird hints.

"Jac, your education, well being, and money come first," She said and then added, "Well not in that particular order." Jac didn't have to be told what came first.

"But-"

"Butts are for kissing," Eve interrupted sharply. "Now go shopping or something. I'm trying to relax."

Jac let out the most angry, pissed scream she could - something she did when she really wanted to just cuss her mother out - and went inside, slamming the patio door so hard that it rattled. Steve was leaning on the mahogany kitchen counters, whispering into a phone.

Jac opened the fridge, took out a carton of milk and then slammed the door. When she reached up to grab  a box of Lucky Charms cereal from the ivory cabinets, she slammed those too. Once her cereal was made, she joined Steve by the counter again who had just finished his call.

"How bad was it?" He asked.

"She's ruining my social life." If she couldn't be with Damon, who knew what other girl would take a shot at him. Jac grimaced at all the bragging about their relationship she'd done, all the pictures on her Instagram, Facebook statuses about him on her page. She was going to look like a complete idiot. 'Maybe the world is ending'.

To get her mind off the catastrophe at hand, she nodded over at Steve's phone. "Was that your boyfriend?"

Steve went bright red and she knew she had to be right. "Uh, yeah."

"Were you guys having phone sex?" Jac asked slyly.

Steve turned as bright as a red Louis Vuitton pump. "No, no, we don't do that kind of stuff."

Jac laughed, silently thanking her diamonds that her parents had decided to hire a butler two years ago. When she was being tormented by her mother or pestered by her father, Steve was always the safe haven in the house. He was only about five years older than her and had become one of her best friends.

"Any plans for today?" He asked and Jac decided to spare him the embarrassment of explaining his romance.

"I have a slight hangover." She took another spoonful of charms.

"I know what can fix that," Steve said proudly. "A shopping spree. I'll be your chauffeur. Now go call your bitches."

Jac laughed again, setting her spoon down. Steve always knew how to cheer her up. She dug in her robe pockets until she found her Tiffany key chain and slid it across the table to him. "Choose a car."

Steve's face brightened and he hurried to the garage.

Just as Jac was about to go back upstairs to get ready, she heard the low ringtone of Steve's phone. He'd left it at the counter in his frenzied excitement over the cars.

'Well, I guess I could just see for myself.'

She was curious as to what Steve's mysterious boyfriend sounded like - or if he even existed. So she picked up the phone and answered. "Steve Patterson's phone. Who is calling?" It took all her strength not to burst into laughter.

"Jac?"

"Dad?"

Before she could even say anything else, the line went dead.

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The first night in the jail cell was Damon's first taste of struggle - and he hated it.

The cops had no sympathy for the poor rich boy, subjecting him to sleeping on a metal table with nothing but a thin cotton sheet in the cell. They didn't even bother turning off the fluorescent lights that burned hard into his eyelids. They didn't even let him make a call although Damon was drunkenly rambling about lawyers and such. It also didn't help that they had separated him from Jac, who had been shooting glares at his back the whole ride there.

Once the police station had seemed to thin out, Damon found himself in a cold, lifeless, grey cell with no one to get him out. His father had let him stay there overnight. He didn't sleep.

His sleepless night showed the next morning; drooping eyes and the constant yawns that followed almost after every sentence. It was the most miserable feeling he'd ever had and he secretly vowed that if his father didn't get him out of here, he;d find a way to get back to his luxurious mansion his way.

The hillbilly cop who had arrested him earlier came back in when the day started. He shook his head in a chuckle and smirked in Damon's direction before sitting down at his desk. He was your movie's typical cop, a man who sits at a desk and eats donuts all day.

Damon couldn't believe these people could just come in and out of this way, knowing he was rotting away in here. "You're all trailer park trash and are just jealous of the life I have," He shouted, grabbing the cell bars. "But let me tell you something, when I leave this place, I'll be going home in a beautiful house where I own cars that cost enough to feed your family and a house that costs more than what you make in a year."

The man's eyes were wide as he listened and Damon moved back to his "bed", satisfied with his reaction.

The cop quickly regained himself then, laughing. "Oh, I'll remember that for your parole officer."

"Parole officer?"

"You're a criminal now, buddy, you're in the system as a car thief." The cop didn't say anymore and went on with his paperwork, taking slow, sloppy bites of his glazed donuts.

Damon spent another agonizing hour seething in the small, cramped cell, occasionally flipping the cop off every time his back was turned.

It wasn't until the morning had finally passed that the door swung open and his savior came in; Matthew Felix. He was more alike with his sister, Erika, in appearance. He wore a look of elegance and a king - like presence; cropped dark brown hair, the same hazel eyes and tan skin he gave to Erika, and a permanent scowl on his face.

The scowl seemed to deepen when he saw his son, slumped against the wall in the cell.

The hillbilly cop sprang up and Damon half-expected him to bow with the nervous jitters he presented himself with. Matthew could intimidate anyone without even moving a finger.

"Get my son out of that wretched dumpster, this place is filthy!" Matthew spat, scraping off an invisible speck of dirt off his designer shoes. He always wore suits and today he flaunted a light caramel Ermenegildo Zegna  suit.

The cop, without a taunting word, grabbed the keys and unlocked the cell, pulling the bar gate open. Damon literally ran out of that prison, cowering behind his father. At that moment, he didn't even care that he looked like a punk.

"Um, heres the paperwork and the court date-" The cop had tried to hand a manila folder to Matthew only to have it knocked out of his hand, causing papers to spiral to the floor.

"I don't need court dates or paperwork," Matthew dug in his suit pocket, pulling out a pack of one hundred dollar bills. He held it up now. "We can settle something right now."

The man's eyes grew wide again at the sight of what looked to be at least five grand. "Yeah, yes, of course."

Matthew was always trying to show Damon how the business world worked so he watched closely as his father used money to get him out of one hell of a situation. Matthew laid the money on the desk. "You're going to rip everything you have on Damon Felix. He was never here, he was never arrested."

The cop was in disbelief, not even able to answer.

Matthew reached to take the money back.

"Wait!" The cop cried now. "Okay, he was never here. What can I help you with?"

Matthew's scowl turned slightly into a smirk. "Lets go son." With that they left the five thousand dollars richer, dumb founded cop staring after them.

Matthew didn't say anything to Damon as they made their way to Matthew's bugatti in the parking lot, the only expensive car in the lot. This, however, only made him nervous. Usually Matthew would lay it on him as soon as they were out of sight but he didn't say a word which probably meant he was brewing with a bigger plan.

Damon got in the passenger seat as his dad got in on the other side. "Turn the radio on, will you?" He asked calmly, fumbling with his wallet now.

Damon leaned forward, barely touching the radio dial when he was blown to the side of the car with a familiar force that he knew all too well - Matthew's rage - filled punches.  His whole face was on fire and in the passenger mirror, he could see the red blotches on his face.

Matthew Felix didn't say anymore. Instead he started the engine and they pulled out of the police station. Damon wasn't in complete shock. No, he was fuming. Fuming with anger and frustration. He had school and he was going to show up looking like the loser of a fight. Yet that was all apart of his father's plan; to embarrass him like how he ridiculed him.

Damon leaned against the car window edge, watching streets and people pass them by at an immense speed. He pulled out his phone then, and texted the one person he could think of.

'Hey, I'm sorry'

Jac was usually always on her phone and after long, agonizing minutes, he knew she wasn't going to respond. He'd screwed up, he actually screwed up more than just the car, he'd ruined their 'no secret' rule.

He didn't blame her for not wanting to talk.

The Felix estate was protected by large, lion embellished gates and even after getting access through them, there were guards hired to do questioning and ask for permission to let someone in. Matthew had gotten this security after his beach house in Miami was robbed.

Erika was sitting in the first livingroom, switching through channels on their cinema screen. She turned to them when they came in, her eyes seeming brighter when she spotted Damon's face. "What happened to Damon , daddy?"

Damon rolled her eyes at her sweet, child-like tone; something she used every time their father was around. It was even more irritating that it actually worked.

Damon watched his father retreat to the elevator that led to the more complex floors of their house. He didn't give even a glance towards his father. "Damon happened." The elevator door closed as he said this.

Erika turned her stare on to her brother, no longer sweet and innocent.

Damon shrugged. "Don't look at me."

"Its always you." Erika snapped.

"What are you talking about?"

"Dad looks up to you and when you do bad, he gets cranky with me," She said sternly. "And do you know whats going to happen if he gets cranky with me?"

"I don't care." And he really didn't. Erika was a spoiled brat and he'd predicted it when he'd found out their mother was pregnant again. He had been sorely disappointed. He had wanted a golden retriever, not a demon sister.

"Well then you don't care that I'm the one who called the police." Erika smirked.

Damon did care about that and before he could stop himself, he let his changed expression betray him.

"You know what?" Erika cocked her head to the side, her straightened brown hair falling behind her shoulder. "You do whatever you want. Let it be you because when you fuck up again, I'll be right there to let father know."

She stood up then, grabbing her Gucci purse that had been sitting on the silver coffee table and walking past Damon.

At this point, Damon was ready to slap her upside the head but he stayed pressed against the wall, fists shaking.

Erika looked over at him, shaking her head. "Do you really think you're going to be the next Matthew Felix with that behavior?" Then with a toss of her hair, she closed the door.

With all his might, Damon unclenched his fists.

                                                                            ⓇⒾⒸⒽⓀⒾⒹⓈ

The Lexington pure white range rover was waiting in the Felix parking lot when Erika stepped out. She wasn't surprised to see Jac's butler, Steve, in the front seat. The two were singing along to Beyonce's Flawless.  Paisely sat in the back, sipping from a Starbucks cup. She was surprised Paisely had even agreed to hangout knowing she was coming.                  

She was more than relieved to get away from her screwed up brother. Damon was always ruining things for her, in fact his birth had doomed her life before she could even be born.  Matthew was all about men being dominant in their family so it was only natural that Damon would be the one to inherit their father's million dollar real estate business. It also helped that he was born first.

Erika knew her father didn't see the potential she had. He seen a little rich girl who used his credit cards to go on extravagant shopping sprees. So Erika was almost exactly that but he had no idea that she had an edge about her - an edge she wanted to show him but she always ended up as a shadow of her brother.

So, of course, she had jumped on the opportunity to get Damon in trouble. Maybe Matthew would realize his golden boy son wasn't invincible. Maybe he'd finally notice her.

'Like thats going to happen.'

Dismissing her pathetic, insecure thoughts, Erika got inside of the range rover, forcing Paisely to move over, dropping her mocha in the process. The caramel colored drink left a big, brown stain on the satin white comforters and everyone screamed.

"Paisely!" Jac screeched.

"Oh my god, Eve is going to murder me!" Steve exclaimed.

"I'm sorry, guys, I'm sorry!" Paisely whimpered.

Erika just tried to cough out a laugh. Paisely's little incident lifted her mood and she settled into her seat with ease.

"I'm so fucked!" Jac exclaimed, rubbing her temples now as if she were trying to think.

Erika rolled her eyes. "Its not a big deal just get a new one and get a better color." She couldn't help but eye the white hood of the car with disgust. White was far too tacky for a car - well at least in Erika's rule book. Her father always said, 'There will never be a new black'.

"My mom hates when stuff gets fucked up!" Jac cried.

"I didn't mean to." Paisely whispered, leaning on Jac's seat, her blue doe eyes getting wider with the innocent look she was trying to pull.

Paisely Mont Vernon was considered Alabaster Prep's sweet, beautiful party girl who couldn't hurt a fly. Erika always suspected that was bullshit. The girl wasn't half as pretty as she was and she couldn't even hold her liquor.Not to mention she'd smacked Erika in the face. Erika had much more suitable adjectives for Paisely and those were along the lines of; skank, slut, whore bag and the list goes on and on.

"You did this on purpose!" Paisely shot an accusing look at Erika now.

"Maybe I did," Erika snapped although it really was an accident. "Whatcha gonna do about it? Slap me again?"

"Can we all address the fact that Eve is going to kill me?" Steve cried.

"You know, I was going to forgive you and pretend like last night never happened but you're being a real bitch, Erika." Paisely said with as much fierceness as she could but Erika could still detect the slight stutter in her words. Although she hadn't been scared of slapping the money out of her at the party, she was sober now and that meant Erika had the upper hand.

"Oh, please, I don't even know why you're mad. Chris doesn't even like you."

"No, he doesn't like you. He thinks you're stuck up and a spoiled brat." She spat.

"Guys, can we just drop it and go?" Jac asked, leaning over to look at the two arguing girls now.

Erika realized she had a motto to go by, 'Stay Classy' so with a dismissive hand directly in Paisely's face, she relaxed again. Pulling out her MAC compact mirror, she observed herself, making sure every strand of brown hair was in place.

"Dammit, I'm still screwed." Steve sighed, finally backing out of the Felix driveway.

"Don't worry, I'll take the blame." Jac said.

The whole car ride to the mall was awkward silence occasionally filled by Jac and Steve's easing conversation. Erika's eyes stayed glued to her phone but she always made sure to keep some kind of vision on Paisely. There was no way she was going to get slapped again and if the girl even thought of touching her she was pressing charges.

However, Paisely stayed just as silent as Erika, scrolling through her Instagram feed - and that annoyed her.

There was one thing that really got under Erika's skin and that was seeing people she hated happy. "So hows your house looking Paisely? Got any red lately?"

Paisely's eyes grew wide and she looked up, not even saying a word.

Jac gasped. "No you didn't."

Erika smirked, twirling a strand of hair in her hand, anticipating Paisely's response. So she'd technically told on herself but her statement probably wouldn't be enough to get her into trouble.

"Why do you have to be so mean?" Paisely said in a small, puny voice.

The girl sounded so fragile that Erika felt bad for her - but only a little. "I just asked a question." She shrugged, turning back to her phone with a smug smile.

"It took my maid four hours to clean that lipstick off." She pouted.

"Gosh, I hope you gave her a raise." Steve said as he eased the car into a space in the parking lot of the large, skyscraper building towering above them; the Beverly Hills Mall. It was Erika's second home and she went there at least three times a week.

The group followed the routine, all getting out the car and huddling into a group out on the lot as if they were discussing a football game.

Erika was the coach, leading her team into a shopping warzone. Jac was the quarterback, Steve was a team player , and Paisely was the dead weight that everyone booed for botching a pass. Erika placed her hands on her hips and shot her team a stern, firm look. "Okay, I'm heading into Barney's for at least five outfits. Jac?"

"Victoria's Secret and then a quick stop to Gucci."

"Steve?"

"Victoria's Secret and Dior then maybe the food court - but I'll only order diet coke of course." He said coolly.

Everyone paused, turning to look at the butler with a questioning look.

Jac arched an eyebrow. "Why on earth would you need to go into Victoria's Secret?"

"To get some sexy wear so I can send nudes to my hubby." Steve said as if it were obvious and a completely logical explanation for a man shopping at a women's lingerie store.

Erika noticed a look on Jac's face, one she recognized well; a quick spark of anger. However, it was quickly masked by her giggle. She made a mental note to get her to dish when they were alone. With disdain, she turned to Paisely. "What about you?"

"Barneys." She said sheepishly.

Erika didn't hide her frown. She was going to be shopping with Paisely and she wasn't really in the mood to tolerate her. "Whatever, lets start the mission."

Steve and Jac went off to Victoria's Secret, leaving Erika and Paisely in the large posh clothing store of Barneys. It was truly fashion heaven for girls like Erika and Paisely. The store was ridiculously expensive and only the wealthy could afford it. Erika silently thanked the heavens for price tags that could scare off the peasants.

Going by the store's policy, the store's cashier, a cheerful woman in a white maxi dress offered fashion advice. However, Erika simply waved the woman off. She was more than capable of choosing her own clothes. Paisely waved the woman back and began to ask about rompers.

Erika moved away from the girl, digging through racks until she finally found a pearl white sweater with the words: KENZO. Erika already owned a black sweater but it didn't hurt to have two colors. Slinging the sweater on her arm, she moved to the pants.

"Erika."

She nearly screamed, frightened by Paisely who had seemed to appear out of nowhere. She was carrying an armful of leggings because she had somehow got the idea in her head that she was that one white girl with an ass.

"Gosh, don't scare me like that, Paisely," Erika muttered. "I thought you were slenderman."

"I just don't understand why you kissed him, I  told you I liked him."

Erika rolled her eyes involuntarily. "Please, you get a new crush like every five minutes. Just last Friday, you said he was peasant ugly." She always wanted to point out that crushes were so ninth grade but didn't have the patience to say anything else.

"But what happened to the rule that if someone likes a guy, he's off limits, even if the crush lasts a day?" Paisely asked.

Erika scoffed, disgusted that she'd even remembered that stupid rule. "Paisely, we made that up in seventh grade." That had been back when the three girls were as tight as the invincible stitches of a Tommy Hilfiger dress.

"Okay, well does that rule still apply to today?"

"No."

Paisely did her usual pout, looking down at her pairs of leggings now.

"Fine, I'll drop this whole thing if you apologize." Erika decided, figuring the girl had suffered enough to the point where she was satisfied.

Paisely frowned. "Why do I have to apologize?"

"Because you were getting on my nerves which drove me to kiss Chris." Erika replied triumphantly.

Paisely did what was supposed to be an eye roll but only looked like her eyes were stuck and then she sighed. "I'm-"

"Nope, you have to bow and scream it to the top of your lungs." Erika stifled her laughter, wondering whether Paisely would stoop that low.

"Erika!"

Erika simply put her hands on her hips, waiting for her royal servant to embarrass herself.

Reluctantly, Paisely slowly bowed - "ERIKA FELIX, I AM SORRY FROM THE BOTTOM OF MY HEART!"

Everyone in the store turned towards the girls, startled looks on their faces. Erika couldn't hold her laughter and she burst into hysterics, laughing so hard her stomach hurt. Paisely only frowned, crossing her arms.

"Happy?"

"Yes, very." Erika managed.

Paisely smiled brightly now, arms outstretched for a hug. Erika almost jumped back and then she realized what she wanted. She hated hugs, they were too unsanitary. In fact, she hadn't had a hug in years.

Paisely grinned. "Come on, don't be so cold hearted."

'Oh, suck it up, its a hug, not a rag from the slums.' With this in mind, Erika forced herself to embrace the girl and almost recoiled. However, Paisely was patting her softly on the back and it felt - well, it felt nice. Erika seen Matthew hug Damon in that manly way of theirs whenever he was proud. She'd never gotten a hug from her Dad.

So she had to admit to herself that Paisely wasn't all that bad. Yet she didn't let that hug last long, quickly pulling away. "Let me just go, um, pay for this."

She hurried to the cashier, suddenly not sure what to make of that moment. As soon as her clothes were in a Barneys shopping bag, she headed for the exit, keeping a reasonable distance from Paisely. There was something so odd about that closeness. 'How could a hug feel more intimate than a kiss?'

But more importantly, how could being close to Paisely feel more intimate than being near a guy, like Chris or all the other guys she'd been with?

Erika was startled out of her thoughts by an ear deafening beeping sound just as she walked out of the store. Paisely squealed, cowering behind the doors. The cashier was speed walking towards them in her Prada flip flops - which were not considered appropriate for work.

Erika looked down at her Barneys bag, looking through it to see if one of the clothes still had an electronic tag on them - but they were perfectly fine.

"Come back in." The woman said sternly.

Erika gasped. "Why? I didn't take anything."

"Give me your bag." She ordered more firm than before, all friendliness gone. The spectacle had attracted nearly the whole store and among the crowd was Addie Anderson's mother. 'Great, everyone is going to think I'm a shoplifter.'

The woman tapped her foot, hand out. "I'm waiting."

For the first time ever, Erika felt completely helpless. She looked to Paisely who looked just as frightened as she did. Her eyes drifted down to her hot pink Gucci purse. Sure, the woman looked like them but was she really? Erika didn't like the idea of having peasant hands on her most beloved purse.

"Give it to her." Paisely whispered hurriedly.

Erika mustered up as much sass as she could, shoving the purse into the woman's hands. Then she put one hand on her hip, giving off as much diva vibes as she could. No way was she about to look like a scared shitless punk.

The cashier dug through the bag, setting items like Erika's makeup, phones, and paperwork delicately on the refreshments counter next to the automatic doors.

"If something is broken, I'm suing this-" Erika  stopped dead in her sentence.

The woman pulled out five pairs of leggings with a smirk. "We better get you a chair. You're gonna be here for a while."

Erika looked over to Paisely, the girl was beaming, practically grinning from ear to ear.

She had been set up.