๐“๐ก๐š๐ญ ๐†๐จ๐ž๐ฌ ๐”๐ง๐ฌ๐š๐ข๏ฟฝ...

By freshoffthestreets

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Eleanor Furness hates being rich. She despises the lavish, old mansions, the materialistic lifestyle, the pom... More

แด›สœแด€แด› ษขแดแด‡๊œฑ แดœษด๊œฑแด€ษชแด…
Oษดแด‡ | Knock, knock
แด›สœส€แด‡แด‡ | Sandi, Sandy, and Cindy
า“แดแดœส€ | Gradation Vacation
า“ษชแด แด‡ | Rate Your Boss
sษชx | Linger
sแด‡แด แด‡ษด | An Ivory Tower
แด‡ษชษขสœแด› | Wow, My Hero
ษดษชษดแด‡ | Spaghetti and Frozen Peas
แด›แด‡ษด | Our Dads Suck Club
แด‡สŸแด‡แด แด‡ษด | Watergate
แด›แดกแด‡สŸแด แด‡ | A Wedding in England
แด›สœษชส€แด›แด‡แด‡ษด | Pretty In Pink
๐šจ๐‚๐“ ๐“๐–๐Ž | Welcome to the family, kid
า“แดแดœส€แด›แด‡แด‡ษด | Magic of the Elevator
า“ษชา“แด›แด‡แด‡ษด | Nancy Shrew
sษชxแด›แด‡แด‡ษด | Call Me Nora
sแด‡แด แด‡ษดแด›แด‡แด‡ษด | Try and be his Sam
แด‡ษชษขสœแด›แด‡แด‡ษด | Hook, line, and sinker
ษดษชษดแด‡แด›แด‡แด‡ษด | Who's this mommy?
แด›แดกแด‡ษดแด›ส | Bloodstained Shoe
แด›แดกแด‡ษดแด›ส-แดษดแด‡ | She'll say anything
๐šจ๐‚๐“ ๐“๐–๐Ž ๐šธ๐šจ๐‘๐“ ๐šฉ | Broken Glass
แด›แดกแด‡ษดแด›ส-แด›แดกแด | Argestes Apostate

แด›แดกแด | Barfy and Farty

734 35 11
By freshoffthestreets

━━━━━━━

TWO

𝘽𝘼𝙍𝙁𝙔 & 𝙁𝘼𝙍𝙏𝙔

━━━━━━━

If there was one good thing that Eleanor believed her father had done right, it was to let her go to public school. There were stipulations of course, because holding leverage over a ten year old seemed like a sensible and normal thing for Sandy Furness to do.

She had seen normal school on TV and read about it in books, her fascination coming entirely from the fact that she had been home schooled her whole life. In her house, all she had was a distant father, a bubbly, party-girl sister, and a countless number of maids and cooks and chauffeurs and gardeners, the list went on, and they were never allowed to get close to her as much as she tried. So, the idea of being around kids her age seemed very appealing to the little girl. The mansion her father owned was large, old, and dusty, the only people she really talked to were pricey nannies and the dullest math tutors imaginable. She needed to get out.

For two months straight over the summer she would run around the big home, locating her father, and pester him about it nonstop. She remembers the day he finally caved in. She was in his office, in a large leather chair, where she was sitting small and doe-eyed, looking as pleading as possible. He stared her down, looming over her in his throne-like chair. "Please, please?" She'd beg. He took off his glasses and looked at her in the eyes. It was rare for him to give her his full attention like this. The action made her squirm in her chair, and the feeling of goosebumps crept up on her, like a draft had suddenly moved through the room. The oddest smile crept on his face as he raised a finger. "On one condition. You come with me to the office today."





"Sandy! It's so good to have you meet with us."

Young Eleanor found herself in a big board room, with giant windows displaying the California city sky line. Her first instinct was to run up and press her face against them, but her father gave her a stern talking to beforehand to "be on her best behavior in front of the business men."

Taking a seat, the chair she was sat in was far too large for her as her feet couldn't even touch the ground. There was a large table, and she wanted to ask about it, but held her tongue. Two men sat across from them, wearing suits, a fashion that at this point had become desensitized to her.

"Pleasures all mine, gentlemen. Have you met my daughter Eleanor?" Seeing her dad act so friendly and smiley was odd. In her home, he rarely spoke to her or her sister, and was never as enthusiastic as she'd seen him now. Unless he was talking to people from work, in which she'd seen a lot of this behavior, yet it still unnerved her every time. If Eleanor knew what the phrase "two-faced" meant she would have definitely thought it.

"I don't believe we have. Isn't she a cutie?" "How old are you sweetheart?"

The two, serious-looking men peered over her, and suddenly she felt very small in her chair, like it was engulfing her. The girl's dad eyed her from the corner of her vision, and Eleanor didn't need to look back at him to know he was giving her an expectant glance.

"I'm 10... and three quarters." Adults liked it when kids said that, right?

They did, in fact, by the chorus of awws she was met with. A sneaking suspicion crept up on her, wondering if her dad just wanted her there to show her off, like one of his fancy cigars he would show to the men he invited into his home. "So Sandy, why did you want to meet with us today?" The man on the left asked.

The CEO cleared his throat, "Well, my daughter and I saw one of your ads on tv together." He gestured at his daughter, and Eleanor tried her best not to react at this new information. Can't remember the last time he actually watched TV with me. "And to be honest gentlemen, we're quite impressed. Elly here has not stopped asking me for your lunchbox cooler set."

Again Eleanor held back a scoff. What would I need a lunchbox for Dad? You don't even let me go to school. The two men smiled appreciatively. "Thank you, sir."

"But frankly, we think you could be doing a lot better if you changed things up."

"Changed things up?" The man on the left inquired.

Her father nodded. "Yes, and by that I mean, switching over to a different network. One with more viewership, more variety. You'd get more commercial blocks than any of our other advertisers. We could sell exclusively your at-home products on our cooking network. I'm sure you know that many, many, house-wives watch that channel. With your products and our viewership," he paused to push his glasses in "the results could be rather promising."

Both of the men turned to one another, and curiously Eleanor watched them whisper quietly. After several seconds, they turned back to them. The man on the right adjusted his tie and cleared his throat. "Mr. Furness, we really appreciate you coming all the way here. You make a very compelling case. But unfortunately, we are going to have to decline."

The CEO's brows furrowed, and he sat back in his seat. "Be honest with me gentlemen, have you already met with Logan Roy? Is that what this is?" He pointed a finger accusingly.

The man on the left shook his head, voice wavering. "No not at all. It's just a large portion of our demographic advertises to children, not just middle-aged house wives. And to our knowledge, you aren't currently running any kid's networks at this time. It just wouldn't be feasible."

Eleanor never forgot the feeling that overtook her in that moment. She didn't know exactly what it was, but it was a sensation that caused adrenaline to rush through her head and a force to pull her in. "They do have a kids network." She was as shocked by her words as much as the three men, who's eyes jumped to her. Her father's gaze bore holes into the side of her head. For a moment, he didn't look very pleased -- but like a chameleon, he cleared his composure into his relaxed demeanor once again. The young girl knew she had to keep talking.

"Well, they're in the process of making one. Yeah, I hear my daddy talking about it all the time in his office." Seconds of silence passed, and throughout that duration, Eleanor had jumped between thinking she had done something good to thinking she had made a terrible mistake. But when her father spoke up, her worries ceased.

"She's right. We are in the development of a network, just keeping it on the down low." He smiled knowingly at the men, and with a brief glance at his daughter, he gave her a wink.

After Sandy began explaining the non-existent kids network show to the men, the deal was sold with a shake of their hands. On the way to the car, Sandy got on the phone to kickstart a children's network immediately. He sat next to his daughter in the car, who sat aloof, staring out the window, as if she didn't just land him a million dollar business deal. And the cogs in Sandy Furness's head began to turn.

The first day of fifth grade could not have come any slower. Eleanor barely got any sleep the night before. To say she was excited would be an understatement. Her sister, who was now a freshman at a private girls academy, left her with a piece of advise before she set off, "If you see any cute boys, mark them so everyone knows they're yours." Eleanor never really understood what that was supposed to mean.

The colorful classroom she found herself in felt very big on the inside. Lined with pictures, artwork, and gold stars, Eleanor felt a sense of comfort, yet it was slightly unfamiliar. But it didn't rid of the looming fear in her gut when all the kids eyes landed on her. Before they could linger any longer, she found the closest seat to her.

"Hey, I haven't seen you before," the seatmate next to her said. He was a boy, with big ears, and round cheeks. But the trait that stuck out the most to her was his kind eyes. Shocked and unused at the attention, her voice responded timidly. "Yeah I'm new."

"Well, it's a.. pleasure to make an a-acuontance with you," The boy stuttered out. Eleanor giggled at his mispronuncation, and the boy gushed, surprised that she didn't go silent or ignore him.

"Isn't it acquaintance?" She posed. He shrugged, and that caused her to laugh again. "Well, um likewise, gentlesir." She butchered too, playing along.

"I'm Greg." He held his hand out to her, a smile adorning his face.

"You can call me Eleanor. Or Nora." No one had called her Nora before, but she always liked the idea of having her own name for herself.

"Alright kids, class has started, some of you still haven't found your assigned seats!" A woman in the front barked after the ring of a bell. The teacher looked pointedly at the two children seated next to each other, and Greg and Eleanor quickly stood up and moved away. She found herself by a small, brunette girl named Sarah. After the first day lecture, the class was asked to introduce themselves to their seat partners. Reluctantly, Eleanor befriended Sarah. Her seatmate didn't talk much to her, which was a relief.

At the playground, she sat on the tennis court by herself. By the monkey bars in the distance, she saw Greg, the boy from earlier, climbing to the top. Before she could make her way over to him, one of her classmates approached her. "Hey are you the new girl?" It was a boy wearing a yellow shirt that was far too bright and neon to be safe for the eyes. She nodded lazily, not really interested in conversation with him. "Have you met anyone yet?" He asked. Eleanor felt put off by his attitude, not being totally familiar yet with the nature of annoying ten-year-old boys.

"I've met Greg." She added. The boy laughed in response. "Oh my gosh, did you know that he puked in the cafeteria last week? It was soooo gross. He's really weird." The boy leered. Having felt like she had enough, the new girl walked away from Mr. Yellow Shirt.

She approached the monkey bars, eyeing them up and down. Greg was laying down at the top, the bars of the playground acting as a bed for him to lay his back on. She climbed up the ladder slowly. When her eyes came directly with his shoes, laid out in front of her, she greeted him with a mischievous smile. "You know, this is pretty dangerous." The boy sat up with his elbows, smiling. "Can I eat lunch with you today?"

At lunch, Greg and her sat at a table with one other boy. He didn't talk, and spent most of the lunch reading. "That's Steven. Him and I used to be seat partners last year." Greg explained to her.

The yellow shirt boy from earlier approached their table, lunch tray in hand. "Hey Greg," He said his name as if it was a gross word, "Make sure not to eat the school lunch nachos. You could get sick again." Apparently this kid had a posse, because another boy joined him, adding in an evil little laugh. Eleanor thought this was something you only saw in movies.

"Ha ha ha." Greg dryly responded. He didn't even bother looking in the direction of the boy, as if this teasing wasn't new to him. The other boy spoke up. "You know, new girl, you can always sit at our table if you want." He gestured over to the other side of the lunch room, to a table that seemed much more lively than the one she sat at.

Eleanor gave the boys a blank look. "No thanks. I'm good here." She stated. Greg gave her a small, subtle look of admiration.

"Well, don't blame us if Barfy here spits out his lunch on you." The Yellow shirt muttered.

"Well if there's anything I should be worried about it's your shirt blinding me." She spat back. Greg offered an ohhhhhhh. "I mean seriously, you look like SpongeBob." She snared, crossing her arms.

Yellow shirt scoffed. "Whatever. Bye Barfy and Mutey." He mocked as the duo walked away.

She turned to Greg. "Am I supposed to be Mutey?" Greg pointed to Steven, who in that entire interaction, kept reading and didn't say a word.

"Dang," she said. "I was really hoping for a nickname too. I guess I just gotta fart in class or something."

Greg smiled at her. "You'll get your chance Farty."

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