Billionaire by Chance

Rags to Riches

I look all around expecting a horde of people to come and put a camera in my face and laugh at me because this was just an evil joke for YouTube or a social experiment to know what a poor person feels when you tell them they are a millionaire for a second...

Except that several seconds go by and no one comes to tell me that. Nothing has changed, except the number in my bank account. Before this deposit, I literally had thirty cents in my account, being that in my line of work the payments are in cash, so seeing that many numbers doesn't make sense in my head.

I start sweating in my suit and my anxiety skyrockets because if this is true and I actually have this much money in me... it means I'm a walking target. I exit my bank's app and lock my phone immediately, looking everywhere in fear.

If people knew the amount of money I have on me now... they would do anything to steal from me.

But the worst thing about this is that I don't even remember where my card is. If I don't find it, I'm going to lose my mind because I need that card to take out the money or buy things, so I get on the bus as soon as it arrives and sit in the last seat, sweaty and anxious. People stare at me a lot and my panic grows even more, but then I realize that they are probably looking at me like that because I look like a sweaty crackhead who could attack them at any moment.

That could be a perfect ploy to take care of my money, act like a homeless crackhead all the time. Unfortunately I can't do that because I have to work at that damn company in order to keep this money.

As soon as the bus pulls into my neighborhood I get out of there and force myself to act normal when I start seeing all my neighbors. Thugs, struggling poor people, prostitutes, drug addicts... most of them greet me and try to get me to talk to them as usual because despite what they are I've always liked them a lot, except this time they make me sweat and shake even more, but I manage to keep those conversations going as I normally would until I get to my building and run to my apartment.

My hands are shaking so bad I can't get the damn key in the damn hole.

"Hey! Belmore!" a thick voice yells, making me literally jump up and put my back to my door, ready to fend off the attack, "Hey, buddy... you okay? You look like you're gonna shït yourself. I just want to buy something."

"Oh..." I force myself to let out a breath and calm down. I have to act normal, damn it. "Sure, sure, come on in."

Rodrigo is my neighbor and one of my best customers. He's absolutely terrifying and a person who could certainly gut me for the amount of money I have now, but I force myself to breathe and act normal because he knows fully well how poor I am (or was) and has no idea that I could have more than twenty dollars to my name.

I attend Rodrigo for almost five minutes and when he leaves, I lock the door behind him and then run to my room to search through my drawers and pants for my debit card, obviously, because I have no idea how credit works.

After ten minutes of looking around I finally find the card lying under my bed, full of dust. Once I have it in my hand, I realize I have to get the hell out of here. Now. I have to go anywhere but here, it's too dangerous.

First of all I take off the suit that was strangling my balls and put on normal clothes. I grab two changes of clothes, my charger, the five-pounder of coke and my toothbrush in my backpack. And then I leave my apartment behind... forever, I hope.

I know I shouldn't be walking around carrying this amount of drugs on me, but I can't just leave it in that apartment if I don't plan on coming back. And it's almost twenty thousand dollars worth of coke, I can't just leave it in oblivion.

I know I'm not going to need to sell it anymore, but there's nothing stopping me from using it. Not all at once, though, chill out. I totally don't want to die yet, at least not until I get to spend all that money.

I walk out of my building and my stomach drops to my ässhole when I see Mauricio approaching me.

"What's up, Adrien? Why do you look so frantic?" He asks when he sees me, narrowing his eyes, "Are you using again?"

"No, man. I'm not," I make it clear before they try to kidnap me again and I search my head for something that makes sense. "I'm nervous because I have all the coke on me right now."

"What? Are you stupid?" he asks, looking all over and then approaching me menacingly, "The boss sent me to keep an eye on you. He doesn't trust you after what happened last time."

"God, I thought it was all behind us," I complain, rolling my eyes. "I can't stop to chat right now, Mauricio. I'm bringing everything with me because I'm going to sell it."

"Everything? How?"

"I told you about my rich brother, didn't I?" I ask and Mauricio looks to the side trying to remember, then nods, "Well he invited me to a party tonight. A big party full of rich Hollywood kids, you know what I mean? I'll sell all of it for sure."

Mauricio nods once he understands and I let out a breath because he seems to totally believe my lie.

"Oh... well, try hard and you'll totally make good money tonight," he agrees, nodding approvingly. "Just remember that if anyone overdoses, you need to disappear and run immediately. Don't tell anyone your name, don't stay and have conversations with any clients and if you can, try to cover your face somehow. Someone always dies at those parties."

"Totally, bro. I'm not a rookie," I say and wink at him. Mauricio rolls his eyes but nods and raises his fist to bump it with mine, then continues on his way and I'm free to go.

I really want to just run out of here but I stop myself, breathing deeply in and out. In and out. In and out. Until I reach the bus again.

People looking at me immediately avert their eyes as if they think I'm going to mug them, but they have nothing to worry about because I have more money than all of them combined. Still, I try not to draw attention to myself. I sit in the last seat once again and hide my face.

I don't have anywhere to go, I just want to get out of this neighborhood full of lowlifes and get to a decent place where I can get an uber to a nice hotel near the office.

Ten minutes later, I get out of the bus when the surroundings look decent and I do just that, I ask for an uber to a hotel I just booked on my phone and when I'm inside the car, I release all the air inside me.

I'm safe and sound. I have the money and the coke safely with me.

"Everything okay, kid?" The driver asks, looking nervously at me.

"All good, sir, I'm just a little in a hurry, I have an appointment at the hotel," I lie, but the driver nods and calms down just a little, especially when I draw out more casual conversation so he doesn't think I'm suspicious.

Once we arrive at the hotel, the driver lets out an impressed whistle because it looks huge and totally expensive. And it was. I chose the most expensive suite possible.

I take off my sweatshirt before saying goodbye to the driver and I hug my coke-filled backpack as I step out, trying to look like I belong here or at least like it's not my first time in a hotel like this.

Fortunately, no one judges me at the hotel probably because they welcome all kinds of strange people here. This is Los Angeles after all, home to probably the most random and weirdest people in the world. Including me.

The girl who greets me and gives me my room card gives me a contemplative look and even a flirtatious smile before wishing me a good stay and I realize as I walk to the elevator that not only am I stinking rich, now I'll be able to get myself a girlfriend, too.

I mean... I've always managed to attract girls with my looks, but none of them ever considered a relationship with me because of my lifestyle.

Now, however, my lifestyle will bring in hundreds of girls and I'll just have to pick the best one.

"Goddamn, boy!" I blurt out excitedly as I walk into my suite, observing everything with eyes sparkling with excitement. I've never been in a place like this before and it fills me with joy like I'm a little kid at Disneyworld.

I could totally get used to this.

➿➿➿➿➿

Celebrating my newfound wealth, I open my five-pounder and treat myself to three little lines. I order a bunch of stuff as room service and have my own party with my one and only best friend: myself.

And the truth is that I have an incredible time all night long, so much so that once it's eight in the morning, I haven't slept a second but I still have the energy to go to work just like Erick asked me to. In fact, before I leave I take another little line just to make sure I'm not going to get tired mid-shift on my very first day.

I pull out of my backpack the formal clothes I took out of my crappy apartment, making a mental note to go shopping as soon as I get off work.

I've never consciously went shopping for clothes in my life. I've almost always done it while I'm groserie shopping and realize I have been rotating the same five shirts for a while and I need more.

Not this time. This time I will consciously go shopping for as much as I can and the most expensive things I can find. Just because I can.

Can life get any better than this?