Rich Bastard {mxm}

Thirty.

"Sometimes, it's the happy memories that you make you the saddest," -C.T

Was I dead?

I had to be dead.

It felt like I was floating on air, unable to open my eyes or even move the slightest. I couldn't feel any pain nor could I feel anything around me.

"Cheyenne, open your eyes," I heard someone call out to me and all of a sudden, I felt a hand touch mine gently, bringing me back down from the brink of insanity. With a slosh of my brain and a slight ache, I forced my eyes open.

"W-where am I?" I whispered, feeling like my mouth was dry and full of cotton, my voice congested. I blinked several times to see that I was in a hospital of some sort, gauze and bandages wrapped around my left arm with IV's and systems attached to me like I was some comatose bitch. "What the hell happened?" I groaned, hating to be in the hospital.

"You're awake," I felt that same pressure on my hand and I turned to my left to see Davina and some strange man, Stefan, sitting there, her face contorted into relief as a tear slipped out of her eye. "You're okay, baby," She said, more so to herself than to me. I slowly looked over to the right, seeing another chair there with a jacket that looked like something I recognized.

Faded Glory.

"The patient has woke up, I see," I heard a cheery voice and I looked up to the entrance of the room, feeling delirious and wack as a doctor walked in, sanitizing his hands. "Mr. Thorn, my name is Dr. Brett Jamison and I was the one who performed surgery on you to get that bullet out," He stated in a sympathetic tone, walking over to me. Huh? I was shot?

He continued on, flipping the papers on his clipboard, unbeknownst to my panic attack. "The bullet was small and it didn't go that far inside your shoulder, so your wound should heal within the month. However, the bullet was most likely meant for your neck or for your heart since those places have many arteries, so I'd take it easy if I were you," I blinked back and forth, wanting to know who had it out for me, enough to warrant my death.

"Other than that, you are fine and you can be discharged within a few days after checking with your nurse. Feel better, Mr. Thorn," Dr. Jamison nodded to me with a smile before pressing a button on the IV machine on his way out.

I furrowed my brows in confusion before turning my gaze to Davina. "First of all, why is he here?" I pointed to Stefan, who looked completely shocked that I was addressing him. When we first met, I took an instant dislike to him because he was crowding in on my mother. "Cheyenne, son," Davina took a deep breath, clutching my hand as if she had something to say, something that was going to crush me.

"I'm going to divorce Sterling."

I blinked back and forth, making sure that I heard that correctly. "What?" I sputtered, unsure of how to feel. "It was a long time coming," She continued, not noticing my freakout. "I fell out of love with him years ago and I was staying because I didn't want to leave you. Yesterday was the last straw and it was enough for me to send the papers through," I stopped freaking out, looking to her as I picked up on her last words.

"What happened yesterday?" I questioned as she clenched her jaw in a bout of fury, turning on the television with ease. I stared at the screen as the news reporter came on and the headlines shocked me. "Just in, all-time business mogul with multiple hotel chains stationed in various parts of the world, Sterling Thorn, patriarch of the Thorn family, has just been arrested on account of multiple crimes!"

The video then faded to footage of Sterling in handcuffs being led by multiple police officers, sirens blaring, cameras flashing, and he looked utterly deranged and lost.