RICHKIDS

＂ Ｌｙｉｎｇ ａｎｄ Ｒｅｕｎｉｔｉｎｇ ＂Part 1

"How much did this cost?"

"Five dollars from that CD store in West Hollywood." Blake replied to Jac nonchalantly as he drove merrily through the glittering streets of Beverly Hills. They flew past Beyonce and her adorable daughter, Blue Ivy, being swarmed by paparazzi as if it was an everyday matter. 

Jac nearly dropped the CD in her hand. 'Five dollars?' This was literally the most cheapest thing she'd ever held in her entire life. To think she'd had a heart attack wearing jewelry under five grand.  However, she had expected the Losers' album - the most atrocious band she'd ever heard - to be worth as much as a nickel.

"Is that a problem?" Blake asked worriedly, looking at her for only a fraction of a moment before turning back to the road. "I mean, I thought it would be funny but if its too - I mean, I know you probably get way more expensive-"

"No, its fine," Jac smiled weakly. If she could overcome her phobia with Blake's rundown car, she could get over a five dollar CD, 'I hope.' "But swaying a rich girl with five dollar CDs?"

"Not the smoothest approach," And as they slowed into a parking space, he gave her a modest smile. "But I figured the best way to bond is over crappy music."

Jac stared into his brown eyes - and couldn't help but think of Damon's sea blue ones. She loved how they contrasted with his dark hair and fair skin. She liked how every Summer, that beautiful fair skin of his would tan thanks to endless hours in the scorching heat playing Lacrosse - 'Dammit, Jac, get in the moment. You're with Blake, not Damon.'

"How is Steve able to afford this place?" She asked, turning away from him to examine the dazzlingly condo apartments in front of them.

With its sleek, modern triangular-shaped buildings and a parking lot that boasted every expensive set of wheels, the condos were a bachelor's dream - and apparently a British gay butler's as well.

Jac tried to calm her nerves, 'Calm, cool, collected,' but it didn't work. She was going to see Steve again. Steve; her butler, her backstabbing butler.  The guy responsible for her family's immense shortage on money. The guy who was about to make her go from Beverly Hills' gorgeous rich girl to that had-been who lost all her money.

"Ready?" Blake asked softly.

Jac didn't answer him. Instead she got out of the car confidently and marched through the dazzingly parking lot, painfully aware of how much of a teenage girl she looked in her skinny jeans and flimsy t-shirt. Her ensemble wasn't really helping her confidence. What she needed was a quick coffee and five-inch Louis Vuittons.

Once at the glossy winding black steps of the apartments that led up to see-through glass doors, condo numbers engraved above them, Jac took a deep breath. She was going to talk to him, get down to the nitty-gritty and demand he cooperate.

Blake came to stand next to her, his worried look deepening. "You look like you're going to faint, Jac."

"I already did,"Jac shrugged nervously. "So do we just go up there or-" She was quickly silenced by a door swinging up from the very top of the stairs. There was series of grunts and squeals that obviously belonged to a gay man before Jac's nightmare appeared at the top of the winding staircase.

Steve was carrying four boxes of Gucci shoe boxes, groaning as he unsteadily made his way down the steps. The larges boxes obscured his view of Jac and Blake so Jac mustered up her confidence again, preparing herself for 'Bitch Mode'. 

'Think Erika,' What would Erika do if she was in this situation? The haughty brunette would probably throw out every remark in the book and manipulate to no end until Steve gave in.