He has a heart of stone... but for her he's burn the world.
Kieran Diaz has thought about one thing since he was seven years old: killing the man who murdered his father. He doesn't have time for love and that's just the way he likes it.
But when he...
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"I WILL GIVE YOU MY ENTIRE SHOE COLLECTION If you let me change this Rhett Finley song." Jen announced as we lounged around my bedroom.
Once I woke up in the morning to find my parents back from their date I learned that my dad had all the locks changed, installed another alarm system and gave me more bullets for the gun I never planned on using.
Ladies and Gentleman, Christian Harper.
I laughed and lowered the volume on the song by the prince of rock, Rhett Finlay. "We don't have the same shoe size." I remind her.
"My firstborn?" She tried again.
"Will you name them after me?"
"Of course."
"Then okay, you can change the song."
"Thank God!" Jen exclaims before shuffling through my playlist for a different song.
Jennifer has never liked Rhett Finlay, and I don't know why because they're so much alike. They're both good looking and both insanely talented. She's never told me why, except to tell me that he's an egotistical playboy.
Jennifer aka Jen is the human version of Jessica Rabbit with her long red hair, green eyes, and a curvy body that any girl, including myself would kill for.
I didn't hate my body, but there were certain body parts my friends had that I wouldn't mind exchanging; like Jen's boobs or Camila's ass. If only exchanging body parts between friends was as easy as letting them borrow a shirt.
Jennifer's whole life she's heard she looks like a mini version of her mother Jules. They were practically identical aside from Jen's complexion being slightly lighter thanks to her father, Josh Chen.
Unlike Jennifer, Rhett Finley wasn't shy about his looks; he looked good and he knew it. It doesn't hurt that the entire female population just happened to agree with and tell him every day.
As the lead singer of the band Panic At Sunrise, Rhett was no stranger to female attention to which Jennifer tells me he soaks up like a sponge. She's my number one source on all things Rhett since they're neighbors.
There's a knock on my door and I jump into panic mode, shoving my sketchbook under my pillow and covering my art supplies with my blanket.
"You know, sooner or later you're going to have to tell your mother about wanting to be a designer like her." Jennifer told me as she picked up a colored pencil that rolled off the bed and handed it to me.
"I choose later."
It's not that I didn't want my mother to know, it's more because I didn't want to waste her time. She's this incredible fashion designer with everyone from Hollywood A-listers to the Queen of Eldorra wearing her designs; I still wasn't even sure I was good or if my designs mattered at all.
