Forget Me Not

1. Beacon What??

We drove past the sign to the town "mom I thought you said Beverly Hills" I asked, I wasn't familiar with this place and it looked so normal.

My mom usually goes beyond but this place looks like a place real people go to and by real people I mean people that don't plastic surgery themselves to death.

"I said beacon hills, I know it's different but with all the other houses we have all around the world I had to settle for less in California but don't worry everything in California is more so none is less" she explained.

We're billionaires, nothing is less for us, I'm starting to feel off about this place.

My mom has a crazy idea made up in her head that I'm a rotten spoiled brat like my older sister, her mansion cost more than nasa's equipment and she's only twenty-one, but I'm not like her, I like normal.

Some people live up to this big idea of having money and mansions and cars, until you get it and have it for years, you'll find yourself wondering why.

We came into the driveway, it was a U shape, in which you come in on one side and exit out the other.

The house was modern architecture, it was mostly made of glass and I could see the whole thing from the outside, that's creepy.

When you walk in and turn right there the living room, and if you turn left there's the dining room which also take you to the kitchen, if you go straight there's the stairs and a hallway that leads to a smaller living room and different doors one door is the back door that lead to the pool and backyard. If you go upstairs your will go through a hallway and it'll lead to several different bedrooms.

"Inside is decorated already, if you want to change up your room call up Miguel, Olga is going to put up your clothes" my dad told me.

Olga is our maid, she works for us so she can help pay for her family in Russia one day she's gonna fly her family over here or go visit them, Olga has also been my real best friend.

Miguel was our handy man/ gardener, he's from Mexico he came in illegal and my parents hired him so he can stay, him and Olga have taken care of me all my life.

When my parents went to award shows or out of country for long periods of time, I could always come home and see Olga and Miguel, but Miguel sometimes works for other people so he can pay for his whole family's papers and then have a place for them to stay, so I mainly just see Olga.

"Why did we move here anyway" I asked "honey, everything happens in Cali, I might be home more often when we were in New York I'd have to fly here to attend things and now all I have to do is drive" my mom explained.

"Dad works in Africa, and you're mostly in Paris" I corrected her, once again catching them on a lie, we didn't move here for less, or to be closer to work, they work everywhere.

"Come on sweetheart stop being a Debby downer, on the bright side you can go to those cochella's and carnivals you like" my dad told me,

I gave a weak smile he only calls me sweetheart when he delivers bad news, like being gone for months or when we have to move to a different country.

I walked in the house, Olga was wheeling suitcases in "are those mine" I asked "yeah" she said, I took them out of her hands and hauled them to my room.

If you haven't gotten it yet let me sum it up, we're rich and I don't appreciate it, I just don't think we deserve all of this stuff, I believe everyone should be working class and normal.

I read that there was a homeless man that found a bag of money and returned it, while we wipe our asses with hundred dollar bills, I just wish I was normal and can go through normal girl stuff like 'oh this boy doesn't like me' instead I go through 'gotta make sure the paparazzi don't see me' it's exhausting.