Chapter 1: Livia

I was never too good with motherly figures.

Take my mom for instance. She's sweet and kind and the best as long as you have enough money to buy her mountains of Prada handbags.

She also likes to be extremely independent and show her off-springs the right path. Not a bad thing I know, unless the right path she preaches is: cook, suck up to rich men, and always say what people want you to. Now that that's cleared up, let's assess the issue here.

Some big shot decided to host a party today and we're invited. Which means I have to attend, along with dad, mom and Isa. I don't live with them anymore, after I realized I wasn't exactly wired to survive the kind of crazy that ran in that house. Okay. To be fair, meeting my parents wouldn't be such a disaster. But when you have to watch your mom bat her lashes at any guy wearing a Brioni suit, who isn't my dad mind you, I'd rather not go, thank you very much.

Did I mention I was dragged to the party nevertheless? She played me. Guilt trip. Never fails.

'Do you have any idea how much pain I bore just so you could see the world?'

The party isn't bad though. If I've learnt anything at all in my 21 years of surviving, it's to always expect the fucking worst. That way, you're never disappointed.

"Liv?" I jump in my seat comically. Only one guy I know calls me that because I haven't bothered to tell him not to. I turn around with the doughnut I'm devouring to look at him.

Chris aka Christopher Abe, everybody. The only heir of the big shot who happens to be hosting this party.

Don't get me wrong. I like this guy. He's nice. I'm convinced the only reason he tries to talk to me is so his dad can be happy. This Mr. Abe is one scary motherfucker. I don't even know his first name. He's got a bald head, but I don't think he's actually bald. He probably shaved it clean just to look intimidating, which just proves my point: scary motherfucker. Also, he wants his son to marry someone who sits at home and waits for him to come back from work.

Ergo, he decided I was perfect. <input massive eye-roll>

His son is attractive. Brown eyes and black hair. He's also got this lean body which makes him a 100% my type. But the fact that I'm being forced into this thing with him is just such a turn-off.

"Um...how have you been?"

"You know, casual sex and some coke, now and then."

He doesn't believe a word I say. I'm laughing in my head because at least one of those is true.

"Oh. Do you want to, you know, hang out sometime?"

"Of course! Monday lunch?"

He frowns, shakes his head. "Office hours."

Like I didn't know that. <input evil maniac laugh>

"What about the weekend?", he pushes.

"Packed." I say, feigning disappointment, "Some other time then?"

"Sure."

He walks away to stand next to his dad. The perfect heir. I snort.

So that's that. I stuff the rest of my doughnut into my mouth and decide it's time to get the fuck out of here.

I spot my mom, and for once she's sitting with dad. My dad, her husband. I'm surprised because, hello?

I look around for Isa next. She's talking to that Charles guy. I scowl. Why? Because I know a douchebag when I see one. I push through to casually poke her rib. She yelps and gives me a withering look. I'm busy glaring at Charles till he gets the hint and backs off.

"What?"

"I'm leaving."

She's still scowling at me but nods, because she knows this isn't my scene. It isn't hers, either. But she pretends to fit in, for God knows what.

"Come by 11," I say.

'Come by 11' is code for 'we're going clubbing'. She grins and asks me to choose an outfit. I agree happily. My beloved sister doesn't have a single drop of fashion sense in her blood.

She shoos me away, looking for Charles again. I'll have to tell her about him one of these days before she gets too attached. Holding that thought for later, I'm off, slinking away towards the exit.