Tomorrow's Sorrow (Peterick)

Part 1: Gold Digger

A/N: Hi :)) So I've been writing drafts for this story for a few months. I didn't want to publish right away because I was afraid of running into writer's block and leaving it undone for a long time. Another reason is that my senior year is winding down to a close in a couple months and a lot of shit is going to pile up on me, leaving zero time for creativity to brew. But nevertheless here it is in all it's trashy glory. Spare me the hate if you have any; it's just an idea I had and wanted to see how it turned out. 

I'm probably going to update every week. Emphasis on probably because so far I've only got 11 1/2 drafts written so who knows where this shit hole will lead me? Anyway enough of that. Thanks for taking the time to read this. Sometimes I'm amazed at how many people actually care about my writing.

Lots of love,
💐 perla 💐

Pete's POV:

The moment you tell a lie something magical happens: someone believes you. If it weren't for the fact that Meagan was a such a gullible person I wouldn't have gotten away with the biggest six month lie of my life. It wasn't easy finding a woman worth a crazy amount who would be stupid enough to fall for me, but luck was on my side the night I met her. Given, I wasn't interested in women. In fact, my only sexual experiences had been with men, but finding a gay sugar daddy turned out to be far more difficult, so I had settled on finding the most available bachelorette this side of the Illinois. 

With my career of choice I was practically born with connections, so I was able to snag a spot in the most exclusive charity event of the year. Disguising myself as a millionaire wasn't the worst task to accomplish. All I had to acquire was a really charming suit, a fake ID, and a checkbook. The rest was left up to my own desires. 

I had spotted her from a mile away. Her red gown hung on her skinny body so gracefully with her brunette hair swooped down her exposed back. She smiled at me as soon as our eyes met, and I knew from then on she was the perfect target to leach off of. Meagan was swooned by me from the get-go, and we both left the event that night slightly buzzed in each other's arms. We made love in her convertible. 

It was romantic for her, but for me it was quite possibly the worst experience. Nothing felt right, so I had closed my eyes and thought about all the men I ever fucked. It was enough for me to sport a boner throughout the fifteen minute encounter. Meagan took me back to her place, where I discovered that she was a billionaire, who had inherited her father's hotel properties after his death. I played my way through six months of pampering, but one lie can only go so far.

She began to wonder how exactly I came across any fortune if I was spending all of her money, so I hatched a new plan to go back to my past life of thievery and to steal Meagan's precious diamond that she kept locked up inside her bedroom safe. It was risky, and I wasn't even entirely sure it would work, but I spent the next few weeks buttering Meagan up with intense love-making sessions until she trusted me with the safe code. It was sappy that she would protect it under the date we met and a bit cynical of me to then disregard the bond that was built between us, but I felt no guilt. Meagan's estate would suffer only a slight blow from the stolen possession, and she would cry for a few days when she'd find out that I played her for a fool. 

She would get over it, though. Everyone usually did. It was a cool night in March, the night that marked our six-month-anniversary. I made sure to serve Meagan so much wine that she passed out drunk on her couch, clutching the bottle to her chest. The diamond looked absolutely glorious under the pale moonlight. 

Once it was safely packed away inside my duffel bag of things, I finished packing all the clothes Meagan had bought me and rode away in her convertible that still had my cum stains on her seat that she had refused to pay to get removed, having said it gave her "good memories". I made it all the way to the outskirts of the city before I heard a news report on the radio about a man on the run with Meagan Camper's prized diamond. She knew me as Jason, but her description of me was unnervingly accurate. I knew it would be simple for police to connect the dots and align me with my actual name and reputation as a serial robber within a few days if I wasn't careful.