God damn I'm bored. This house if so fucking huge for two people that never talk with each other. And yet my mother is still somehow coercing me into joining in the snoozefest that is socializing with the Long Island elite.

If I have to hear one more of these assholes outdoing one another over which Ivy League they're attending is the superior one I'm gonna fling myself from the balcony. I couldn't give two shits about Brown's business program or how Harvard's rowing team is doing this semester. Honestly, who gives a shit about ANY rowing team?

I've basically been reduced to a five year old, stuck in my baby pen here in Long Island now that dad's gone and Uncle Ralph is in charge. I can't understand how he gets anything done from inside Rikers, but I can feel his presence every damn hour of the day in this god damn house.

Or shall I say this Georgian Colonial based off of a design made by George Fucking Washington with his ashes scattered throughout.

But really, the way my mother goes on about this house you'd think we'd bought the damn Mount Vernon Estate or some shit.

I don't know why mom and I couldn't have just stayed in the penthouse. I mean, after it was cleaned up. There were lots of dead bodies lying around, but it wasn't like dad's was a part of it. He was reduced to ash across the fucking street.

Maybe Uncle Ralph thought is was safer for us? Like this gaudy mansion isn't a huge neon sign. "Here we are. Come and get us."

Not to mention how mom goes around blabbing about her 'heartbreaking' story of how her husband was brutally murdered. Complete with the same damn crocodile tears she had at dad's funeral. She sure fooled Ralph's cronies, and she's fooled all the self-absorbed celebrity wannabes here in Long Island.

It's gotten to the point where mom's story now includes her having a gun to her head and dad taking a bullet for her. Like she wasn't at some spa in St. Lucia that weekend.

Not that any of this matters. I could live in this 'Georgian Colonial' or in the modern penthouse. Kick Ass didn't kill me. He just knocked me out. He did blast dad with a bazooka. But he was about to shoot that little girl in the head. But then again she was a serious threat. I mean, all those other dead guys were her doing alone. Kick Ass didn't show up until right before dad and I had to do any fighting.

Still. I miss the big city. It was fast and loud and exciting. This house echoes when you walk across the floor. There's just something about being in that penthouse, being above everyone else and looking down on the city and the people.

It wasn't a power trip, I just liked the view.

And there's nothing to do here but go to these dumb parties. I know mom loves it. In fact her demeanor about everything has made me wonder about if she even misses dad at all.

I'm to the point where I'm pretty sure she just wanted this sort of life from the beginning. Like she married dad thinking she was going to live this glamorous rich lifestyle where all she had to do was sit around and go from party to party. And the performance she puts on every time she explains the story isn't helping her case in my eyes.

This isn't the life dad gave her. Instead she was constantly worrying about the family business and the money. Yeah, she went out and socialized with the New York City elite, but the New York City elite are different from the Long Island elite. They're smarter, and they care about actually important things like the economy instead of what color napkins to have at the next party.

So she didn't really fit in. But she sure as hell fits in here.

Which leads me to where I am now. Staring at this polo shirt, dreading the rest of the afternoon, because I'm going to have to listen to the Ken Clones drone on about rowing.

Damn fucking garden parties. How do these people not get sick of just going to parties all the damn time? Maybe they'll have edible food at this one though and not those nasty cheese appetizers they had at the last one. God help me if all they have are those sandwiches with cucumbers and 'green' juice.

Maybe I'm being punished. Like, Uncle Ralph is making me live here with mom because he thinks all that shit was my fault. Like I was supposed to know that a little girl was responsible for cutting down half of the family business. I should not be held responsible for that. I mean, for fucks sake, I almost died. That should be punishment enough.

I still have nightmares about that little purple chick standing over my bed and shooting me in the head. I've actually resorted to sleeping with a nightlight again.

Damn I really am like a five year old.

"Christopher, we're going to be late!"

Fuck that woman can screech. So I grumbled and pulled the polo on, knowing if I dared come down those stairs in anything other than a Ken Clone uniform she'd start bitching. And I'd rather hear her screeching than her bitching.

"What in god's name has taken you so long? We are going to be late now. And not at the point where we can pass for fashionably late. Jesus, what is with your hair? Here," She said as she licked her hand and started rubbing at my hair, trying to smooth it down.

"God, mom. Stop!" I said, pushing her off and trying to hurry out to the car and get this over with already.

"I just don't want my son looking like a perfect heathen. God damn, where are my keys. Things were so much easier when we had a driver. I'm just going to have to hire one. Oh, maybe make him one of those hot Puerto Rican ones, like Mimi was telling me about…"

Kill me now.


This is shorter than I originally planned. But I was really not feeling this chapter and I knew I had to post it to get to further chapters and I just really wanted to get something accomplished this week lol.

Anyway, Chris finally enters into the story. I'd love to hear what you guys think of him at this point. Not too much going on here obviously. Sort of still in exposition mode, but things should start progressing further soon.

So please, please, pretty please leave your thoughts and reviews! I love hearing from all of you!

Also I may or may not have two other stories floating around in my head (which are the reasons I've taken so long to get anything posted on this one. I'm just excited about them is all).