Be My Bad Boy

My dad had been crazy rich. It'd always been the two of us against the world and nothing was too good for me. We had the big house with maids, plus a beach house that was more luxurious than most people's everyday houses. I'd gone to the best schools and I'd worn the best clothes. Even though I had friends, most of the time I ignored them and went straight from school to Dad's office. I'd sit on a chair beside him and play business then he'd put me on his shoulders and take me around to meet the staff.
"One day, this will all be yours, honey." That's what he'd say to me.
I'd laugh. It seemed silly to me as a kid because I thought it was all mine anyway. All the offices. All the buildings he'd take me to see that were his. All the meetings where I played on the floor while he talked business.

When I got older, I'd still go to the office. Sometimes I'd go with him to meetings. But sometimes he'd tell me to run home.
"It's no place for a young girl," he'd say.
I'd pout but he'd never change his mind.
I expected this to go on forever. I'd get my degree then work with him in the business. I'd never have to worry about finding a job because all this would be mine one day.
I had it planned out. While I'd had a few boyfriends in high school, when I met Tom the plan fell into place. He came from a similar family and everyone said it would be the perfect relationship. Our businesses would merge when we married and we'd run them together. I never thought about things like excitement or fun in a relationship because that would come from the business.
We'd gone away to university together. Tom wanted to get into the best law program in the country and I followed behind him, thinking moving to another state would be an adventure. Although, to be honest, my life didn't really change that much. Same life, different place.
Then, a few months ago, Frank called me and told me to pack my things and come home.

~Before~

"Is Dad ill?" I asked.
"No, nothing like. I can't really explain over the phone."
I'd packed up my bags and headed home, feeling a bit exasperated. It wasn't long until exams and I needed to study. I didn't really have time for family drama.
When I got off the plane, Frank was waiting for me.
"Where's Dad?" I asked. I had a horrible feeling Frank had been lying about him not being ill. Otherwise, why wasn't he there to pick me up himself? Why hadn't he phoned himself? None of this made sense.
"He's… well, we aren't sure where he is at the moment."
He didn't say much else until we got back to his house. I had a feeling he didn't want to tell me in front of the driver, so I didn't push it. I spent that ride from the airport with my face against the window of the car, trying not to think of all the possibilities.
Then finally he got the chance to explain.
"I'm not sure how it happened. Your dad, he got into some trouble. Got in over his head. I tried to warn him but he was always a gambler. He thought the risks would pay off in the end. And maybe, if he'd had more time, it would've worked out…"
I didn't really understand what he was trying to say.
"Dad had some business troubles?"
"The worst kind. He's lost, well pretty much everything."
I sunk down on the sofa, not comprehending. Dad had lost money. He'd done that before. He said you couldn't make an omelette without breaking some eggs. But he always bounced back.
"But it's no big deal right? He can just move some money from somewhere else to cover it?"
"There is no 'somewhere else' this time, I'm afraid. He's moved it all. It's all gone. Things have been going bad for a while. And, this is really hard…" Frank got up to pour himself a drink. He poured me one too and sat it down in front of me. "I'm sorry to tell you this, honey, but some of the stuff your dad was involved in. It wasn't all aboveboard."
I shook my head. No way would Dad be involved in anything dodgy.
"All the company's assets have been frozen. The houses, the cars, everything. There is talk of –"
"Shut up! Just shut up. You’re making this up."
I stood up. It couldn't be true. I covered my ears, not wanting to hear any more.
Frank put his arm around me but I threw him off. Everything went black. I picked up the glass of whiskey he'd poured for me and threw it at the wall.
“Where's he gone? Where's Dad? I need to hear this from him. He'll tell me the truth. He'll look after me. He always has."
"He's disappeared. I don't know where he is. I don't know when he'll be back. He called me last night and then the police arrived. I had to try to sort things out. I've got your clothes. They took everything else. All your jewellery, the furniture, all your things. I said your clothes were personal effects. The rest is gone."
I shut my eyes.
"But I still have my allowance, right?"
Frank shook his head.
"But I can go back to uni. I have my flat and –"
Frank shook his head again.
"That was under the company name. I'm organising to get everything shipped down here. Until this is sorted out, it's best you don't go back there."
I could not think about this. I could not even imagine having nothing. People couldn't just take all your stuff. We'd find some money and I'd go back to uni and everything would be okay. Dad would sort it out.
"I'd offer to let you stay here for a while but even that might not be a good idea. There are people, not just the police, looking for your dad. You should stay under the radar for a while."
"Am I in danger?" This was a nightmare. I'd wake, surely and find out it was all lies.
"No, but you don't want to be in the spotlight right now. We're trying to keep it out of the papers but, once people find out, this is going to explode and you don't want to be hounded by them."
I'd packed up my stuff and left with a quick goodbye to Frank. I know it wasn't his fault but I didn't want to be around him. It made me feel sick.
I booked into a hotel. Stupid move, I know now, but at the time I thought it'd blow over in a couple of days. I had money in my bank account. I had my credit cards. Well, I thought I had my credit cards until I tried to use them. Do you know how humiliating it is to have your credit card rejected?
I didn't do much after I checked into the hotel. I didn't want to contact anyone I knew and I couldn't go shopping. I went to the pool and swam lap after lap, hoping it would resolve something. After that, I'd fall into bed, exhausted. When I wasn't swimming, I studied, expecting to still get back to school in time for exams.
A few days later, Frank called me to see how I was getting on. He had my stuff sent to the hotel and called in to take me to lunch. That's when he'd told me about the management company. Dad had put the company in my name for some reason. I had no idea why he couldn't have done that with one of the houses at least, or something of value.
"All this will be yours one day," he'd said but now "all this" had gone. Disappeared in a way that made my head spin.
"What am I supposed to do with a band management company? I didn't even know Dad had such a thing."
"It was a bit of a hobby for him. Back in the day when some of his mates played in bands. It actually was his first business. Before all the property development and all that. Then there was that time…"
Frank didn't finish what he was saying. I ignored it until later.
We had some more wine and Frank looked around the hotel.
"I hate to say this but you really should think of moving out of here. You know when the money's gone, there'll be no more. Maybe you can get some kind of support from the government until you get a job."
I just stared at my wine glass. I couldn't eat any more. The thought of food made me sick. I had no idea about getting a job or anything else. All I knew was how to spend money. And where could I move to?
When I got back to my room, I checked my bank balance and worked out how many days I could stay at the hotel. The answer was not many. I went online and looked at apartments.
I had just over $2000 in my account. That was it. That was all the money in the world. When I looked at apartments, I realised I'd need money for a security bond and a month's rent. Even with the most optimistic calculations, that seemed impossible.
I got the paper and looked for cheaper places, and then happened to see an ad for a place – no bond, no references needed. Pay by the week.
That's how I ended up with my rathole apartment. I figured I could put up with it for a few days. But the days stretched to weeks.
The first night I moved in, I couldn't sleep at all. Every noise in the night was someone ready to cut my throat and steal the few things I had left. I moved my dresser in front of the door in case the latch didn't hold and I kept a hammer next to my bed. The wind rattled the old wooden windows in their frames all night and kept me jumpy. My pulse rate did not settle until dawn, when I feel into an exhausted sleep.
When I finally woke up, I made my way to the bathroom but looked at the mouldy shower. I couldn't shower in that. I just couldn't. I'd be dirtier than when I started. As I went back to my room, the old lady from the room down the hall grabbed my hand and told me all about her health condition. I didn't want to know. And she smelt like she'd already died, anyway. I ran away, back to my room and cried for the rest of the day.
You can only cry for so long though. I had $500 left by then, after paying rent and buying food. I got out the papers Frank had left with me and then looked up the details of the band on the internet. They were playing that Friday night at a bar across town.
I'd asked Frank if I could sell the management company. He'd said it was possible but I should hold on to it. It was the only asset I had now.
"But I just need money until Dad gets back, right?"
Frank sighed and rolled his eyes but agreed to help me.
I put on my most severe outfit, the one that said power bitch, and got on the bus to go to the bar.

That's how it all started.

Notes

There is some more background info and the next chapter will be up tomorrow cx