Lush Love

Let's Go Home

Elise:

Our quest starts simple really and can also be complicated. The night after Graduation I stood in front of the mirror wishing I could turn back time to start the long and stress-ridden nights that is getting a doctorate's in an overrated Ivy League campus my father insisted I go to, over. That's right, from the beginning. I wouldn't even hesitate, despite how young I had been and how terrified it all was in the beginning.

I've never really had any control over my life and as I stand here looking at my reflection, my eyes zero on the long even waves I call my hair. I laughed knowing that in a few days, I have to go back home and start working side by side with my brothers and my father and babysit my little sister who is now on the cover of People with her new co-star and lastest fling. A bottle of vodka in one hand while she flips off the paparazzi that had been taking the picture.

They have all made it abundantly clear. My new position in the family business is practically set in stone. I sent back the dress and refused to go to his stupid party. However, he sent me a letter telling me that if I wanted my own debut all I needed to do was ask. I didn't ask but he sent the invites out anyway.

I'm going to cut it all off. 

It might be an overreaction on my part but really but I need this. I need to know that there is something about me that I can change. Anything. I have three different kinds of scissors. I'm going with the biggest one. I've watched a few YouTube videos telling me the proper way to do this and just in case I get it wrong I have my hairdresser on speed dial and she can get me in first thing in the morning. It's a good plan. I have all night to cry over my decision.

"You're going to regret this," I murmured to my reflection. 

I put the scissors up to my hair where I tied the ends of it with a rubber band. My hair has been this long for a while now. I stopped cutting it when my mother passed away ten years ago. I've only ever trimmed it to prevent split ends and keep myself from becoming a cliche Rapunzel. Why am I overthinking this? The only reason I've kept it this long is because my dad once complimented it. It was the last compliment he ever paid me before kicking me out of his house and his life. Despite my being top of my class and my cultivating valedictorian speech that morning, he didn't show. He never shows. He never even calls or answers a text. I always send him my grades and magazine features. I've had more than a couple.

"You're going to talk yourself out of this and one day you're going to look back at this moment and realize you really are the coward you believe you are. Who cares what your dad thinks? He's an i***t. You have several degrees in business and engineering. You don't need his approval. You don't need anything from him. 

"In fact, the only reason they want you to go back is because they want you to add your college funding project to Walton Enterprises so that he has a massive nationwide transportation sector sitting right next to his tech one. Doing this will help me go international two years ahead of its time," I groaned slamming the scissors down on the marble counter.

What if I don't like the way my head feels without the extra weight? What if it frames my face wrong? What if I put my hair up all the time because I hate it? I hate it now. I groaned grabbing the scissors and putting them on my hair again. I tucked the sharp blades just above the rubber band. I jumped squeezing the scissors a little when my phone began to ring. Half the hair in the rubber band sliced right off. Why are these scissors so sharp? I could have cut myself by accident!

"Well," I sighed. "It's too late to stop now," 

I finished cutting it. At this point, there's really nothing I can do about it anymore. I proceeded to cut the other three. I set each strand of hair down carefully. This is going to make an amazing wig for a little girl recovering from cancer treatments, right? This is a good thing for me and whoever receives it. It's fine. Starting off taking over the evil empire with a good deed should count for something.

Tears gushed down my cheeks as I stared down at my hair. Hair that's been growing out of my head steadily since my mom died. There's so much of it and it's just gone now. I'd have to wait for another two to three years before I see it again. I got up and began to place the hair in a zip lock bag while I cried to Adele. I'll take it to my hairdresser tomorrow so she can even out my hair. I cursed the phone for ringing again. 

"Hello?" I sniffled. 

"Are you crying, Ellie?" Rissa's voice only worsened the thickness in my throat. 

"I cut my hair off," I choked out.

"Oh, baby. I am on my way right now. I have a crate of that vodka headed out to L.A," 

"Rissa, you're not supposed to sample the merchandise," I sighed. 

"I know but they're so good. I've had two," 

"Two? Two what? Shots?" 

"Bottles silly," she screamed, giggling with someone else. Hopefully more than one someone else. Those things are strong and it essentially tastes like liquid candy. 

"Who's there with you?" 

"Hey, princess stuck up," her boyfriend, Zack laughed. 

"Hey, Zack," I wiped my face feeling less shitty about myself. 

"Okay, I know you're having a hard time. Going back to the city next week and your father, oof. Just come out with us and have some fun one last time. A couple of the guys I work with as well as my boss's son is coming out with us. You vibe with people like them. You love money. They love money. Win,"

"Honey, I think she's not going to be up for it. Elise is kind of a commitment-phobe and is really bugging out about having to sign the contract that binds our company to her father's," they're all on board by the way. I got a few congratulatory gifts from my father's board of directors. The cards were cool. I love compliments.

"Then don't. You make almost as much money as he does and you're not even international yet," that's a lie. He has no idea what he's talking about. I am a mere speck on my father's office window.

"You don't get old money at all, honey," Rissa laughed. "We are on our way. You're going to have to go out on your own tonight," 

"Awe," he complained. 

"Actually, I think going out is a good idea," I admitted. "Maybe cherry flavored vodka with vitamins in it is what I need. You can come over and pregame here while I try to style the disaster my hair is," 

"Sweet. We'll decide if it's a disaster or not," he mused. "The Uber is here," 

"We'll see you in a bit," Rissa laughed. I placed my phone on the dock so it can charge while I get ready. 

"Laters, drama," he sneered and hung up.

I can hear everyone in my apartment when she arrived. There are more than two or three people out there. I slipped my pumps on and finally walked out. Rissa and Zack made everyone cheer as soon as they spotted me. I couldn't help the smile that broke out on my face. I've never had trouble getting along with Rissa's boyfriends. She has good taste in men. My dad is not going to approve of her being around and it only makes them love them even more. I kind of think Zack is the one for her. He's ambitious and loves to put in the time to get to where he is. I once had to go over to his place and remind him that it was their anniversary. He was a mess. While I like to build things, Zack codes. I wanted him on my team but I didn't think it was a good idea for him to work for Rissa.

"I love it," Rissa shouted. 

"No, you don't," I shook my head. I hate it. The concept of it, I love. It's just really choppy and bad. Had I not styled it the way I did, it would be super noticeable.

"I don't," she laughed. "What the hell is wrong with you? Out of all the things you could have done, why the hair? I loved your hair. Where is it?" 

"Ziplock bag," I pointed at the restroom. 

"Donation?" 

"Duh, you've touched it. Can't let it go to waste," 

"I think it looks good. Come take a shot. Today we grieve the loss of our beloved iconic waves known as Ellie's hair," Zack raised a tiny plastic red shot glass. 

"To Ellie's hair," everyone raised their own shot cup. One of the extras stepped forward offering me an empty one. I took it and he followed by pouring the vodka. 

"I like it," he complimented. "Excuse me for interjecting here. But my family firmly believes that long hair is more for social climbers. A woman of your status is more poise and centered. Imagine how great your collar bones will look with expensive jewelry around it," 

"You're the boss's son," I laughed taking the shot. He smirked and poured me another one. 

"Pierce," he introduced himself.  

"Elle," I laughed feeling the burn slide down my throat and into my empty stomach. This is perfect. "You're the guy who took our Zack," 

"I am," he smirked. "You're the other girl in his life. You gave me a hard time after I hired him,"

"I apologize for that," it was immature of me to have gotten as mad as I did. I was after all the one who told him it was okay to work for the enemy. A little enemy but an enemy nonetheless. It's not like he works for the Kingsleys.

"For giving me a hard time?" he smirked. 

"Yes, you seem like a decent boss," why did I say that? Don't be nice to the competition. What's wrong with me today?

"No one has ever called me that. I get a lot of you "take after your father". He's an ass," he laughed. He even used quotations on that statement.

"Good one," I nodded. "The fact that I will possibly be photographed near you is excellent. It gives us an opportunity. Our fathers are going to be livid,"

"Hell yeah," he nodded. "To pissing off those old geezers," 

"To the old geezers and our contribution to a legacy we didn't want to be a part of," I raised my shot. 

"Amen," he laughed. We both took a shot at the same time. 

That is the last clear memory I remember from that night. We ended up in Zack's penthouse. I sat up fully clothed next to a man I had just met hours prior. He's still in the clothes I remember him being in last night. Good, I want to remember my first time. I looked around for my shoes and my phone. It's on the dock. I grabbed it and scanned the room one last time to make sure nothing weird happened. Nothing out of the ordinary. The coast seems to be clear. I have to get out of here and fast.

"Hey," I walked out of the room to see Rissa sitting at the kitchen island with a cup of coffee in her hand. She has a big smile on her face.

"I have to get out of here. If my brothers find out that I spent the night with tall and gorgeous in there, he's a dead man," whoever he is.

"Nothing happened," she smirked. 

"I know," I motioned my body. 

"Even drunk off your ass, you manage to be a f*****g lady and I hate it," she laughed. "Come on, I'll take you home," 

"Thank you," I cleared my dry aching throat. She handed me a bottle of water. "Did I make out with him at least?" 

"You did," she snickered. "You guys actually disappeared for a while. I thought you were going to come back a woman," 

"You let me run off drunk with a total stranger?" I asked appalled. That could have ended so badly.

"Yeah," she nodded. 

"I need better friends," I rolled my eyes. She laughed. 

"Oh, baby. It doesn't get better than me and those other two losers," 

"Sadly, you're not wrong," I agreed. Not in our part of town. 

"Alright, shower. We'll go down to fix the mess you call your hair and we'll go have a nice big lunch to help cure your hangover," 

"I don't actually have one," I admitted. "I'm going to invest in this man's vodka. It tastes like cherry pops," 

"As your friend and legal advisor, I one hundred percent support that decision," she agreed. Oh, yeah. She's also a lawyer. That's her main career path. She's using me to start her own law firm. She already works for one of my brothers but it's just for the credentials.

"Thank you," I smiled at her. 

Once, Claudia, my hairdresser was done with my hair. I couldn't be mad at it anymore. He was right, my accessories are going to look amazing without my hair taking away from them. My head is light. I feel like I lost a ton of weight. I tipped her generously after thanking her for her service these past six years. I even shared my last i********: post and tagged her in it.

The rest of the week, I packed the things I'm going to be taking back home with me. I honestly thought I would have more but in the extent of six years, I only managed to get rid of all my old things, things my father had bought me, and replaced them with things I got myself. Which isn't a lot compared to how spoiled I had been in my teen years.

I'm going to miss the change in pace. New Haven was exactly what the name implied. My years here were great. I met my best friend here. I made a whole lot of sisters in my sorority and I really stepped out of my comfort zone regarding my career. I'm going to miss late-night discussions with my friends, study groups, charity events, and wild parties. That week-long trip to Seattle I used to avoid going to that gala wasn't long enough. Now, I'm going to have to do those things with my brothers. Maybe even my dad. None of it will be on my terms anymore. All of it is going to be perfectly planned out by him.

After cutting me off for so long, does he expect me to agree to go home and do everything he asks like I used to? I don't want to do that. I remember how lost I felt when he pushed me away. I had devoted my teen years to him and he pushed me out like I was nothing. I don't want to be that girl anymore. I refuse to be. 

I placed the almost empty bottle of vodka in the sink. Poison Cherry. I took a sip from it and then emptied the rest of it out. 

"To the contribution of the centuries-old legacy of our forefathers. May we do the name Walton proud," I scoffed. "New hair cut. At least our succession is going to look great," I bit out sarcastically. "Let's go home,"