Based on Super Rich Kids by Frank Ocean
Start my day up on the roof
There's nothing like this type of view
Point the clicker at the tube
I prefer expensive news
Rafe Cameron was an anomaly. Too spoilt to hang with the Pogues, too much of a delinquent to fit in with the Kooks.
One of his favourite things was watching the sunrise from the roof next to his room's large bay window. It centred him, calmed him. His mind was constantly racing, so seeing the orange glow rise over the trees, was nothing short of relaxing.
He would usually do this while scrolling through his phone, checking Instagram, seeing what party had happened the night before across Figure Eight. Fox News would send him updates, you know, rich people paying rich people to tell middle class people to blame poor people. And he supposed he fed into that idea, but as the sun hit his eyes, making him squint, he didn't think further into it.
New car, new girl
New ice, new glass
New watch, good times babe
It's good times, yeah
Wind blew through your hair as you drove along the highway. You laughed raising your hands above the windscreen, feeling the air on your fingertips. You could feel the diamond ring wobble on your finger, pulling your hands down to admire it. It matched your icy diamond bracelet, courtesy of your new boyfriend.
Rafe leant over placing a hand on your thigh, the cold feeling of his Rolex catching your attention. You could see your reflection in his glasses as you smiled at him. You leant over, placing a kiss on his cheek, before throwing your head back, whooping into the open air.
She wash my back three times a day
This shower head feels so amazing
We'll both be high, the help don't stare
They just walk by, they must don't care
The steam of the shower blended in the air with the smoke of weed, creating a damp leafy smell. Your soapy hands ran over his skin, washing off the dried saltwater. You grabbed the shampoo, foaming it up in your hands before reaching up to run it through his hair. He held your waist, securing your stance against him as you washed the salt and sand and seaweed from his hair.
He leant his head back, letting the water run over his head. He could feel your lips on his neck. He let out a throaty groan, gripping your bare ass. You giggled into his neck, hand running through his hair, ridding him of the rest of the shampoo.
He felt euphoric.
The two of you were giggling uncontrollably as you exited the shower, leaving puddles along the lavish floors of the main bathroom. You were wrapped poorly in the white fluffy towels, when you heard the vacuum cleaner whir from down the hall.
"Oh shit, the maid is here," you cursed. Rafe's bloodshot eyes lit up as hushed chuckles escaped his mouth. You tried to shush him, but your laughter was louder than his.
You made a run for it, sprinting down the hall, leaving drops of water behind. You slinked past the maid in the open living room upstairs. She didn't even flinch as your white-towel clad bodies raucously giggled all the way to your room. She had seen similar scenes a hundred time through. She found the bottle of alcohol hidden in your room, or your stash of weed. She needed the money, she needed employment from your family, she didn't care what you did. You and Rafe collapsed onto your bed, still giggling out of your minds.
A million one, a million two
A hundred more will never do
Rafe went home that night. As he entered the house, he heard his dad summon him to the kitchen.
"Hey son," he greeted him, not looking up from his paper, "I transferred some more money into your account today, saw you made some pretty decent purchases."
"Yeah," Rafe cleared his throat, "they're for my, uh, new girlfriend. You always told me how to treat a girl right, Dad. I really think you'd like her."
"That's lovely," Ward eyes never wandered from the page he was intently staring at. Rafe's shoulders hunched as he made his way upstairs, unsure his dad even registered his retreating footsteps.
He took out his phone, opening up his banking app, surveying the hefty total. His heart didn't pick up like it used to when he saw the number rise. He felt empty and unloved, but as your name appeared in a notification at the top of his screen, he thought, maybe, he would have a chance of filling that void.
Too many bottles of this wine we can't pronounce
Too many bowls of that green, no Lucky Charms
"I never understood what this is called," your words slurred as you held the bottle up to your eyes, squinting as your hazy eyes struggled to focus.
"Who gives a shit! It tastes good either way," Rafe leant forward, snatching the bottle from your hands, taking a large swig. You drunkenly laughed before pulling him into a kiss.
Music blared as the party pumped around you. Topper, who was sitting on the other side of Rafe, rolled his eyes.
"It's 'mow-ey' if you're show-ey and Mo-et if you know-it," he said taking the bottle from Rafe's hand, pouring the bubbly liquid into two flutes and passing them back to you and Rafe, "so please, be classy."
You immediately downed the drink in one go, tipping your head back as you went.
"Or," one of Rafe's other friends drawled, reaching into his back pocket, "we could do some of this."
You eyed the bag of leafy green substance. You held onto Rafe's bicep, as grabbed the bag from his friend's fingers.
You were slouched on the couch, Rafe lazily slung over your middle as you stoked his hair.
"Do you ever wish we had a normal childhood?"
Your high took away your inhibitions, your mouth moving before your brain could stop it. Rafe swivelled in his spot below you, glancing up at your face. He thought about what he had the other night: the void in his chest, the feeling of being unloved, but the feeling of doing whatever the hell you wanted when you wanted was so freeing, but was it freeing enough? He answered honestly.
"I...I don't know."
The maids come around too much
Parents ain't around enough
Too many joy rides in daddy's Jaguar
"Why is your house always being cleaned? How does it even have enough time to get dirty again?"
You laughed at Rafe's question as you led him into the garage.
"You know my mother, she's a germaphobe. One speck of dust and she brings the cleaning day forward a half a week!"
You opened the door to the garage, smiling as Rafe's jaw dropped. He inspected the glistening gold, pristinely kept Jag.
"Now, my parents are out of town, which is the only reason I'm letting you do this," you pointed your finger at him, before tossing him the keys. As he ran past you to the car, he planted a kiss on your cheek, swinging open the driver's side door, "Please be so careful, my Dad will kill me if we do anything to damage it."
You joined him in the car, smiling as he delicately ran his hands over the interior, little 'oh my God's escaping his lips. He placed the key in the ignition, hearing the car turn on, allowing an appreciative moan to escape his lips.
"This car is so beautiful! Let's take this baby for a spin!"
Too many white lies and white lines
Super rich kids with nothing but loose ends
Super rich kids with nothing but fake friends
You walked inside the party, Rafe's friends immediately ushering him away from you.
"Look, what I've got."
Rafe's eyes train in on the white powdery substance in the small plastic bag. He gulped. He'd drunk and done drugs before, sure. But cocaine was different. Although its white colour glistened against the glass of the table, its darkness was encompassing.
"Babe! Where are you?"
Rafe heard you call his name. He hushed the boys around him.
"Later, later."
He ran up the stairs, finding you and spinning you around, capturing your lips in a kiss. It caught you off guard, but you melted into it.
You hummed as he released you before capturing the sight over his shoulder.
"Ew gross. Cocaine is disgusting. Makes people so violent. Promise me you won't become like them," you caressed Rafe's face nodded your head towards the guys behind him.
"Yeah of course. I would never," he nodded, allowing you to drag him away, casting one final look at the white powdered table as you went.
It was hours later, and you still couldn't find Rafe. He left you at the beer pong table to go to the bathroom but had never returned. You weaved your way through the party, before his blue polo caught your eye. He was hunched over a table, a group of rowdy, aggressive boys surrounding him, one hand up to nose. You stomped over to where he was faced away from you, tapping his shoulder harshly.
He rose, turning his head, catching sight of you. He stood to his feet quickly, hastily wiping the white under his nose.
"Y/N, I—" he started, but your raised hand cut him off.
"No Rafe, I'm just... so disappointed, I really didn't think this was you." He looked like a scorned puppy, eyes wide and lip pouted. Problem was, he was meant to be your ride tonight. All your things, including your car, at his house. But very obviously he could not drive. You crossed your arms over your chest, "Give me your keys. I'm leaving. I don't care if you come or not."
He quickly fished into his pocket, handing you the keys as you continued to glare at him. You stalked away. He felt one of the boys' hands come to grasp his shoulder as another laughed.
"Bro, your missus is mad!"
"She's gonna give you the best angry sex—"
"Just, shut up!" Rafe snapped angrily. The rage burning inside of him was like nothing he had ever felt before. The heat rose, as if steam emitted from his years, his skin felt like it was on fire. He shrugged the guy's hand off his shoulder, jogging to catch you before you left.
Real love, I'm searching for a real love
Oh, real love, I'm searching for a real love
Oh, real love
You and Rafe had just exited the Golf Club, walking hand in hand towards his car. It was your 6-month anniversary. You celebrated with an amazing meal, and Rafe even surprised you with an amazing new dress and shoes for the evening. You were super impressed he had managed to pick it out but understood more when he said he had gotten Sarah's help. Regardless, it flattered you, as he had clearly been paying attention as the dress was the same one you had eyed off shopping together just weeks previous.
The chilly night air hit your skin causing you to shiver. Rafe let go of your hand, shrugging off his suit jacket, before wrapping it around your shoulders.
"Thanks," you smiled. You reached his car, leaning against the passenger side door as Rafe held both your hands, "I had a really great time tonight."
"Me too," he pulled your head up to meet his, placing his lips gently on yours. This kiss felt different than the others, more passionate, slower and more tender. Rafe pulled away looking into your eyes. He felt a warm feeling in his stomach, like it was summer, butterflies floating around. His knees felt weak, as he whispered, "I love you."
He had never said it before. He doesn't even think he had felt it before, ever. He didn't get this feeling when he was with other girls or his family. He felt nervous, worried that this wasn't the feeling he was meant to have.
"I love you too," the anxiety pulsating through his body subsided when he heard those words. He pulled you in for another kiss and he knew. This was what it was meant to be like: love. Real love.
We end our day up on the roof
I say I'll jump, I never do
But when I'm drunk I act a fool
Talking 'bout, do they sew wings on tailored suits
You had reached the Cameron house, after driving Rafe home from the party and followed him up to his room. He immediately moved across the room, stepping outside his large window. You huffed, following him, knowing your argument wasn't over. You sat next to him, bringing your legs up to your chest, looking out over the trees, looking as if they were glistening under the moonlight.
"You know, sometimes, I think it would be easier if I jumped."
His voice was solemn, yet serious. He sounded as if it was something he had genuinely considered, hard expression staring off into the middle distance.
"Rafe," you started, but he continued.
"I think, it would be so much easier to just end this life, start the next. See what's in store for the afterlife. But then I think, would there even be a spot for a person like me in heaven?"
You didn't know what to say. Your skin felt hot and your heart was beating out of your chest.
"You're not a bad person, you just... do stupid stuff sometimes," you tried to calm him. But his expression didn't change.
I'm on that ledge, she grabs my arm
She slaps my hand
It's good times, yeah
Sleeve rips off, I slip, I fall
The market's down like 60 stories
He was stood now, but his feet were unsteady. He looked almost unwell, sweat beaded across his forehead. You stood slowly arms outstretched, watching as his feet shuffled. The took one too many little steps, missing one of the roof tiles, causing him to wobble.
"Rafe!" you screamed, reaching forward grabbing his arm. You used all the strength in your body to pull him towards you. It worked but sent both of you falling back onto the roof. He landed next to you. You groaned as you sat up, rubbing your elbows which took the brunt of your fall.
"What the fuck was that Y/N?" his voice was gravely. He shoved you away from him, as he struggled to get to his feet again. You stood slowly.
"What the fuck was what? You were gonna fall, Rafe!" you yelled back, your face holding a bewildered expression.
He felt the fire burning inside once again. But now the voices that had been drowned out from the sticky substance flying up his nose, had begun crawling out of the void
No one loves you.
Your father thinks you're a failure.
No one loves you.
You're not gonna get anywhere.
Why would she love you?
"I don't need your fucking help, okay?" His voice was venomous. You could feel droplets of spit hit your face, burning as if they were poisonous. Tears welled in your eyes as he continued to scream, "I've never wanted it. You were a good fuck, but you don't mean anything to me!"
"You don't mean that," you whispered. It was the drugs talking. He was Rafe, your Rafe, and he loved you.
"Yeah, I do." The certainty in his voice was piercing. The voices were egging him on: you mean it, you mean it. But really, he felt it. Nothing meant anything to him. The void was swallowing him up whole and he didn't want to take you with him. "Everything in my life is shit, okay? Including you. I don't need you telling me what to do and I especially don't need you for anything else. We're done."
Tears were falling rapidly down your face. His expression was so hard, it alone couldn't have cracked your heart. Sobs began escaping from your lips, watching as he breathed heavily. This was not the boy you fell in love with. This was the shell, overtaken by his self-loathing and unfulfillment. You wiped your face, collecting yourself.
"So, what that's it?" you asked, already knowing the answer. Rafe didn't saying anything, the only movement coming from him being the heavy rise and fall of his chest. "I really hope you figure out whatever's going on with you," your voice was so shaky the words nearly didn't come out. You swallowed the lump in your throat as you hastily climbed back through the window, wanting to get away from him as quickly as possible.
The heat had subsided from Rafe's body as he watched you leave. Your tears had dampened enough of the fire for him to realise what he had just done.
She never loved you.
You're a failure.
How could anyone ever love you?
He heard your car start from the driveway, seeing the red reflection of your lights against the trees get dimmer and dimmer. You were gone. And you were never going to come back.
And some don't end the way they should
My silver spoon has fed me good
A million one, a million cash
Close my eyes and feel the crash
So, you and Rafe broke up. You'd run into each other at parties occasionally, barely making eye contact and definitely never speaking. Over time you showed up with a new boyfriend, clad in designer wear. Rafe continued to hide in the corner, snorting blow and a bottle Moet in his hands, desperately clinging to the last thing he had left of you.
The Cameron money stood well over time, aiding Rafe and his addiction. But every snort came at a different kind of price. His emptiness grew larger and wider, fully encircling his body. The only thing reminding him he was alive was the pit in his stomach, ignited every time he got high.
At night when he would close his eyes, begging slumber to take him he would see your face. The wind blowing through your hair. Your smile. What it felt like to feel loved. Something he hadn't felt until he met you and hadn't felt since he lost you. He was empty and unloved.
Real love, ain't that something rare
I'm searching for a real love, talking 'bout real love
Real love, yeah
Real love
I'm searching for a real love
Talkin' 'bout a real love