Chapter 1

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Gale POV

He's a liar. A cheater. And now he's dirt.

That's what my father was.

I don't even care that he's dead. My mother on the other hand, I had felt sorry for her.

Until she left us too. Then she became dirt, as well.

She didn't die; she just walked out of our lives without us even knowing.

Now my older siblings, Evan, Laura and I are left here to defend for ourselves. Evan was 19, trying to pay for college. He wasn't the brightest crayon in the box, but he was trying to finish.

Both Laura and I wanted what was best for him. We didn't want him to give up. When Laura turned 16, she dropped out to support our family unit, and Evan started working part-time. With Laura working multiple jobs and Evan working whenever he could, we barely managed to get by.

I wanted to start working too but they complained that I was the only 'smart' one in the family and that I should just focus on school. I was 13 at the time.

After almost a year of seeing them tire themselves out, I insisted I had to get a job as well. I told them at their weakest: when they got back from work. They didn't resist at the time.

Then the next couple of days I scoured out looking for jobs. At first, all the employers willing to hire seeming interested, after all I was pretty tall for my age at about 181 centimetres (5'11 feet). Not bad for a freshman in high school. And I was pretty fit too. If I had to thank my bastard of a father for one thing, it would be the fact that he always kept my siblings and me in good shape. He used to be a personal trainer before he married Mom.

Well after the employers from local stores, supermarkets and auto-shops see me, their eyes glisten as if they had just found a gem. When I was so sure I was about to be hired...

They had asked me my age.

Everything goes downhill from there.

I get turned down as soon as the shock leaves their faces. The places that were willing to hire students my age were packed. I had no experience and was too young for most jobs. They always say that I should come back when I'm '16.'

What did it matter? I looked 16, maybe even older.

"Just give up," my older sister, Laura said, after the second day of my job hunt, "You're young, smart and good looking. You'll have everything going for you in the future. Just be a kid and focus on your studies. We can handle it."

She was lying through her teeth about the stress she was taking on. Her usually bright glistening chocolate brown eyes were dull and her hair had lost its lustre. My naturally pretty sister now had bags under her eyes and looked deathly pale. We all knew she was working multiple jobs and it was taking its toll. We tried to stop her from overworking, but she was so damn stubborn.

My brother and I made sure she only took 'decent' jobs. What I meant by decent was pretty self-explanatory.

Therefore, it was ironic when I took my job. It was day three of my so-called 'job hunt.' I knew I needed a way to make money. I was just going to have to pass by every place willing to hire. My brother and sister needed a break.

I was walking back home when I decided to take a different route. Maybe I could find parts of the city I never knew and hopefully, find a job.

I didn't notice till I was halfway there, but I was entering the 'Night District' or better known as the 'Party Town' for the rich. This area was the place where young and old rich bastards decide to play with their money. From the stores to the bars to the restaurants to the strip clubs to the so-called 'host/hostess clubs' and to the nightclubs, it had everything a sick rich douche would want, and it was here... for a price.

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