The Girl Who Caught Snowflakes In Her Hair ❄️

The First Snow of the Season.

I met her for the first time as if it was an illusion in a dream. A brief moment that leaves me wondering if she was real. The riches of the rich have a grand ball. Important people from all over the world gather here. Some bring their entire family, while others come alone. Dukes and duchess, to princesses and princes. The Creme de la Creme. The hosts are some of the most influential people in the world. For example; the leaders of most countries talk to them when making large decisions. People seem to do anything to get close to them. I wonder if they actually trust anyone. Their wealth was displayed on every knook and cranny of their home.

The mansion was draped in gold, silver, just about every precious gem imaginable was encrusting the chandelier. Absolutely stunning. Paintings from far and wide painted the walls. Like a cut out of a fairytale story, a castle children could only dream about seeing. Architecture that leads as far back as the 18 century. This was one of the only places in the world to house the top .5% of the wealthiest people imaginable. As soon as you were let inside you'd be greeted by an incredible warmth. The cold air of the December sky was no match for it.

I was allowed inside thanks to my position. My name is Thomas James Logi. If someone asked me how tall I was I'd say 6ft even though in 6'3. I never understood why people cared so much about the inches. I got pitch black straight hair and light skin tone from my father and my blue eyes and my height from my mother. I'm not what you call important. At least I don't think so. My parents did more than I ever did. They're the most charitable people in the world. They lived a modest life giving away 87% of father's earning to things like orphanages, art galleries, homeless-shelters, and help fund parties like this. My mother was the type of women to wear a 79 krt diamond ring with a 25$ blouse. Everyone loved them. If only they knew how it was to live with them.

I believe they cared too much about pleasing others than themselves. Letting everyone take as much money as they want. In my eyes they're door mats. I was raised like any normal child. Didn't discover my parents money till I was in my late teens. In high school Father started asking my opinion on how we spent our money. At this point everyone knew who I was. I couldn't walk down the street with out someone wanting to be my friend. Always for an alterer motive. I became paranoid. I now only have a handful of friends who are in my same social circle.

Do I wish I was normal? No. I'm ok with who I grew up to be. People on the other hand could have been different. My classmates say they saw it coming. My excellent grades, my attitude, my appearance;  to them they were all because of money. Now everything I work for, people say it's because of my parents' money. I'd be lying if I said it didn't get to me. I have a hair pin trigger for people bashing me for my money. I've been arrested 5 times for getting into fights, yet as you can imagine my parents made those records go away. I'm usually calm. My attitude is very neutral. I wouldn't say I'm cold, but I'll rarely be myself. A super polished polite young man. That's the charade I play. Underneath is a cheeky brat that uses words to mock people, with a fire hot fighting spirit to work for what I get. People call me the matchstick of the Logi family. Once I strike, I burn everything in sight.

My father worked from home, my mother worked sparingly at the local flower shop. She loved it even though she was doing it for free. It's not like we needed the money. I tried to get a job, but my father kept undermining me. He said I should learn the family business. I went to college anyway. I learned his business last. After my first job and my first car. Thou my freedom didn't last very long. It's hard to be pitied with a silver spoon in your mouth. I went to this event every year. I'm usually the only one around my age group. Only a few other people had children. Most were either teens or kids. There was the host's daughter, but she never came to these events. I always ended up talking to my father's  businesses partners. I walked towards the wall and watched the magic unfold. Every woman trying to out do the others with how immaculate her dress was. My parents would chat up whomever hosted the event. I usually stood next to them and spaced off till they would ask me about my work after my studies. This time I decided to stray away. I headed for the crafts table. Finger foods fit for a god. I bumped into a women who I knew from frequent parties. She was about 5"6, wearing a tacky completely glittery bright pink dress. Her hair done in sparing curls. You could tell that she wanted all the attention on that "dress".