Chapter Three:

My arms lifted above my head attempting to greet my gray ceiling. This room hasn’t been changed since I was in the seventh grade, my utterly embarrassing emo phase. Mom wouldn’t let me paint the walls or ceiling black, so I was stuck with gray, close enough, but my band posters and instruments were allowed as far as I was concerned. Back then those things weren’t even up for debate. Brendon Urie’s 18x26 inch poster still hung crooked on the corner wall right behind my drum set, guitar and amp. God’s I was a simp for him and the rest of Pan!c At The Disco when they were together. Chemical Romance, not so much. I still had my share of their posters stuffed away in my closet though. They didn’t really fit on the wall I had dedicated for my collection of posters so there wasn’t much I could really do about them. Four walls, and I only wanted one reserved for my posters everything else were serial murder clippings from random magazines my father still had from way back when when during his younger years. I won’t lie, for a kid in an emo phase my sense of design, just like always was on point, no complaints from me. Besides, I wouldn’t want to ruin the younger me's hard work anyways. In memory their hard work will forever stay on these walls even long after I die, however long it might be till then. As my hands trailed over silk sheets on a hunt for my phone

I listened to muffled voices in my parents outlandish hallway just beyond my bedroom door. They were more than likely one of my father’s business buddies, so I didn’t pay what they were saying any mind. With a sigh of relief my hand hit my phone, and with a tight grip I pulled it from beneath my tangled covers and placed a smug smile on my face, almost like I had just started and ended a war in one sentence. Being the overconfident me that I am I stood up with prowess and fell right back on my ass like a total moron. “Ow'' I whispered, rubbing my butt and attempting to stand back up on weary feet and numb legs. Getting up didn’t lead to the same result this time, and boy was I glad about that. “Looks like you slept well,” grunted the sharply dressed old grump that was Ryan Quinn, an intern for my father and one of the men that they were hoping would be my soulmate when we were younger. His prowess was always an attractive factor and due to the way he was raised he was always very studious and overall one of the smartest people that I have ever come to know. “Very,” I said with a grimace as I walked towards the door and muttered with a grin crossing my face, “Pretentious jackass,” Ryan shook his head with a smirk as he squeezed my right shoulder grazing the scar that was left from an accident of years prior, “Good to hear pretty pony”. Letting his smirk fall he removed his hand from my shoulder and straightened his maroon button up shirt, “It’s good to see you again,” letting out a raspy cough Ryan placed his fist over his mouth then pinched his plush lower lip between his index and thumb.

“I’ll be down for breakfast in ten,” I whispered, my face twisting in disgust before I swiftly and silently closed the door and shuffled over to my closet filled to the brim with black, black, and, you guessed it, more black. My fingers grazed over the smooth cloth falling on a shredded black long sleeve with a vintage song cover on the front and a slightly blacker black spaghetti strap to go underneath it. My choice of pants was limited to years worth of dirty black holed jeans on the floor of the closet, and a single pair of chained cargo pants that were neatly thrown over the rail beside my hung shirts. With a sigh my fingers laced around the rough fabric of the cargo pants and gently slid it over my lace thong that I wore to sleep, boy did Ryan have a view seeing as I was only wearing a sheer black shirt and a lace thong before putting on these heavy pants. It’s a surprise that I still manage to fit into them so perfectly after all of these years. I suppose Adam was wrong about that, my curves haven’t changed even the slightest.

After changing into less revealing clothes I went downstairs, my hands half-hazaardly shoved into my pockets. As the sound of my boots hit the ears of my parents mom looked up with a gracious smile, “Goodmorning Sweetheart,” she chirped as my dad just nodded his head in my general direction, “Adrian, I hear you’ve rekindled with our guest, Ryan?” With a shudder I chuckled and rubbed the back of my neck, “I wish you would have told me we would be having company. It wasn’t very ladylike to greet a guest in my panties,” I said with a smile as I sat beside Ryan, who was turning bright red as he stared almost shyly at his food, at the dining table. My father nodded, “I’m sure he didn’t mind the view, but I’ll be sure to give you fair warning next time dearest”. With a smug smile on my face I nodded and thanked the young woman who had come and placed some vegan biscuits and gravy before me.

By her young appearance and unnecessary curtsy I would assume my parents had to hire on more help or decided it best to let the girl have a shot, “You are so beautiful,” I whispered as I untucked some of her brilliantly purple hair from behind her ear and patted her cheek. As her face perfused with a deep cherry red she clumsily curtsied once more than rushed out of the dining area, “It’s best not to tease the help Adrian,” Ryan said squeezing my knee. In an almost angry manner I retaliated by clasping his hand in mine and squeezed it like he did my leg, “It’s best not to touch me at the moment Ryan,” Ryan’s face turned grim and cold at the thought of being turned down, or on, it's difficult to assess at this point, as he took his hand away and I began to eat like a starved animal, surprisingly coming out clean in the end. Then in an almost trinsic way I stood quietly with my dish and headed to the kitchen to wash it. With a smile plastered to my lips and a chuckle flowing from my throat I greeted everyone I saw, including the young girl from earlier and a few handmaidens from my youth, shortly after I began to dry and place my dish in the dryign rac before attempting to make my leave, “Have a good day everyone!” I said loudly into the crowd of the resting staff members and left to a series of people shouting, “Adios Princesa!” from behind me.