Prologue
844 Words
New York City, New York…
Lance Sanchez fixed his hair in the mirror in his bedroom. His brother Lucas had told him Missy Darcy was downstairs. Missy was the hottest girl in school and his most recent girlfriend. They had been dating for seven months, and it was still hot and heavy. He was positively taken with her, but his parents didn’t like her. Missy wasn’t from the same walk of life. Though her parents made a good living, she was still middle suburban while Lance and his family were part of the wealthy elite.
His father was a rock star, retired from the stage but still in the game as he owned and operated both a popular recording label as well as an international chain of recording studios that had once belong to Lance’s grandfather some seventeen years ago. His mother was a celebrated ballerina who owned a fantastic ballet company in New York. His parent’s success assured Lance’s future. He and his sibling had vast trust funds and stood to inherit billions.
Lance was a third-generation rich kid from a well-known musical family. The world was at his feet, and people seemed to like that. He made friends easily, and girls were always eager to say yes when he asked them out. But Missy was different she liked him for him. This had been his longest relationship, and Lance was starting to think this girl was the one. If they were still together come graduation, he was going to ask her to move in with him and see where things went from there, and to hell with what his folks thought about it.
His parents didn’t like her because she wasn’t as well off as they were. “She’s a gold digger.” His mother would say. “A hussy who’s only after your money.” Her dislike of Missy was irrational.
Lance headed downstairs to meet Missy. He was reaching the bottom of the steps when he heard his mother talking to Missy in the living room on the other side of the wall. He paused and listened. It was nice to see his mother taking an interest in getting to know Missy better. He smiled; he could see them in the mirror against the opposite wall. Missy and his mother were seated on the couch facing one another. But something was off. For some reason, his mother had out her chequebook and a pen. He watched as she wrote out a cheque and handed it to Missy whose eyes were lit up like she had just won the lottery.
“There you go dear, fifty thousand dollars,” his mom said sweetly, “and all you have to do is stop seeing my boy. Do we have a deal?”
Lance couldn’t believe what he was hearing. His mother was paying off his girlfriend. “You got a deal.” Missy giggled. She took the money? Lance’s chest ached. She had been in it for his money just like his mother had said. He felt like such a fool, seven months and she had him completely duped.
He watched his mother and Missy stood up, and his mother walked Missy to the door and said good-bye. She was shutting the door when she noticed Lance standing at the bottom of the stairs with his back against the wall and a wounded expression. She knew he had heard what they had been saying.
His mother frowned and pushed her dark hair off her shoulders as she came to him. “Lance honey, I know it hurts but if she took the money she wasn’t the right girl for you. It’s better you find out now.” She said reaching up to brush his hair behind his ear.
“Why would you do that?”
“I’m only looking out for you. One day you’ll find the right girl. I know it’s hard to believe at seventeen, but it will only hurt for a little while and then you’ll forget all about that little hussy.”
Lance turned around and headed back upstairs. He felt wretched and wanted to be alone. He slammed his bedroom door and sat down at his desk staring at his computer. How could he have fallen for her so easily? He felt sad… hurt… angry… vindictive. Lance brought up his e-mail and started typing a nasty message calling Missy every nasty thing he could think of. Then he addressed it to everyone at school and sent it. The message went viral. By morning Missy’s reputation would be in ruins, and the entire student body would shun the little tramp. She wouldn’t be able to show her face in public. She’d have to change schools. That would teach her to mess with a Sanchez.
- Writer
