“I don’t think I’m ready for it to be honest,” I say, “a lot of things had been going on, and if there were any earlier plans, I had to gain more experience in order to do a better job, all of that had been derailed with everything that happened. A lot of my father’s business information is still a mystery to me, and I think he needs to hold onto his position at least until I graduate. I still attend university, by the way.”“I see, I see,” the man nods, “well, I don’t think your father expects you to take over this year either, although it’s always better to have a successor waiting for you once you want to step down. Most likely he told you that he would be retiring at the end of the year so you would take it seriously.”“I always take things seriously,” I reply, “he didn’t have to lie if he wanted to keep me here.”“Did he know about that? You were quite adamant in your insistence on being independent, last I heard.”“I was going through a rough patch when I came here,” I confess,

John and James drive me back to my home. They leave me in front of the gates as per my instructions, and I walk all the way home through the massive estate. I feel quite let down, more than a little bit sad, so very shocked and honestly out of this world. The need to find a bottle of anything that’d make me forget this encounter for a moment prevails over any other desire. How on earth do I find myself in these positions? When I was smaller, back when I didn’t really realize who my father actually was and rich people existed, I came to realize that rich people lived some pretty bizarre lives. And I admit, I laughed at them and made fun of them.Never did I realize that one day I would land in one of those situations that little me would have thought was extremely dramatic to the point of being hilarious. That little shit would be chortling at me right now. Not that it was very chortle-worthy, because Jesus Christ someone was dying. But every other fact is just absurd.How suspicious a

The club is loud.Louder than I ever thought a place like this could be. I’ve never been to a club before, and I do not know how on earth I ended up here. I just came out for a drink. Initially, I was thinking of visiting the bar where Lemon works, but then again, I realized that if I do that, I’d have to socialize with him. And while I normally valued our time together, I didn’t want to talk about what happened today. The guilt was already starting to sink in, and there was nothing more I wanted to do than just get wasted out of my mind and forget my entire identity for a moment.And so, I initially went to a bar and had a couple several shots of whiskey, I went there, sat down next to the bar, and threw back the shots like it was god’s own lifeblood until I felt a little less than dying, thank God I’d come out of my lightweight status after all this time of drinks, and somehow two people migrated towards me. Apparently, they were feeling sorry for me, and they didn’t want people to

“Did we use protection?!” she repeats in a much more startled tone. I feel all the blood rush out from my body at that question.“I don’t know,” I reply, feeling quite restricted and unable to flee, although my most base instinct is to flee, “I don’t remember anything about last night, I don’t even know who you are and how I ended up here, and I honestly don’t even know if we did anything!”“Then what the fuck is this?!” The woman screams and pushes the two fingers she had, I assume, stuck in her downstairs in order to get the sample.“I don’t know!” I reply, scrambling to my feet in order to find my clothing. And oh, God, they’re just tossed everywhere! My pants had somehow been lodged on a lamp, my underwear is caught under the leg of the bed, and my shirt was on the back of the chair near the small desk. The room looks like it belongs to a very low-grade hotel and is that mold I can see growing on the wall?!How on earth did I end up here? How far away from the nightclub is this p

“Drugged?” Estelle repeats, “Are you talking about things like date rape drugs? What!? Are you serious?”“100%,” I say, "I mean, think about it. Neither of us knows what happened to us, both of us have major black holes in our memories after drinking. We don't know what happens after we drank that one drink, we do not even know who got it for us and then the next thing you know we wake up next to each other on a bed naked. Looking like we'd slept together, but neither of us remember any of that.”"Yeah, but that doesn't mean we were drugged," Estelle insists, "maybe we were sort of in that we didn't remember what we did l last night,” she tries to reason, and although it frustrates me that she's trying to say this is our own fault when it looks like it clearly was not. I can't understand what compels her to say so. I mean who wants to admit that they had been drunk in that nightclub people shame victims for things like this saying that there are too many. Estelle might be afraid of th