Rise and shine, early birds. We all have dreams. Some good, some bad. Some fun and Freudian. And some are the dreams we've had our whole lives.
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I've been spending a lot of time at The Annabelle. Mr. Frasier doesn't mind me lurking around when I'm out of uniform, since I'm "friends" with Holden and Tyler, and he's close to aunt Lindsey and Derek.
The hotel has sort of become a second home, between work and me staying here for no real purpose other than not wanting to go home. I guess you can say I've let Ainsley push me out of my own home. I don't want to be anywhere near her. I need to avoid confrontation and focus on college. It was now November, and I need to get ready to send my application in.
But I also need to think about how to become more popular. That's why I had called Salima this morning, expressing my interest to walk in her show next week, which she loved. Apparently Salima has a thing for putting it-girls in her show, or girls she believes she can turn into an it-girl. That's also why I had taken that picture of Jake and Ainsley, though I've yet to do anything with it.
"You'll never be queen, because you're just too nice," Lydia's voice rings in my head.
I could expose Jake as a cheater, Ainsley as a bad friend/person, and embarress Lydia all with one picture. As shown by Lydia, you can't be queen without getting back at those who've wronged you. You could say that they all actually deserve it, but I just can't do it. Maybe I am too nice.
What's wrong with being nice?
I sigh, shifting in the armchair with my computer on my lap.
"Hey," a voice startles me, and I look up to see Tyler.
"Hey," I smile.
He plops down in the armchair beside me. The Annabelle had several secluded sitting areas all throughout the hotel. They were my favorite places to do homework and study.
"What are you writing?" Tyler asks, glancing at my computer screen. "Or not writing," he corrects teasingly.
The only thing I had typed was the date and my name.
"My college application essay," I sigh.
My essay from last year was perfect. I wish I could just copy exactly what I had written then. This has to be perfect too. With this application I'm basically laying my yellow brick road to the rest of my life.
He nods. "Yale, right?"
"Yeah," I sigh. "How'd you know?"
"I heard about the Lydia thing. Even though I've graduated from Lockwood I still seem to be in line for the whisper-down-the-lane of drama. I guess I will be until I get thrown into the adult world of drama, somewhere around 25," Tyler says.
My eyebrows furrow. "There's adult drama too?" I ask.
"Oh yeah," Tyler chuckles. "But it's way deeper than the high school drama. It's all about business and politics and affairs."
I nod. This place is so dramatic, so extra.
"You know, you don't have to do a typical essay where you talk about how much you love the history of Yale and how it's such a great school. Just write about why you really want to go there. Write how you feel," Tyler suggests.
I nod, a smile forming.
I can do that, right?
I just have to try to do it without looking unstable, or like some sob-story.
"Thanks, Tyler," I smile at him.
"Anytime."
The sound of someone clearing their throat averts my attention. I look up to see Holden standing in front of me, dressed decadently in a suit and tie. I stop my self from staring and my eyes snap up to his face.
Of course, he's being a baby about seeing me with Tyler, as always. His face is wrinkled up slightly and the corners of his mouth turn downwards a little. He hates for anyone to not be miserable around Tyler, especially his friends.
Friends.
A word I'm still conflicted on with using in regards to Holden.
"Don't you have work to do, Harper?" Holden asks angrily. He's obviously referring to my job here and I frown at his crass tone.
"She's doing it now, and I'm helping her with it," Tyler retorts, assuming we're talking about the essay. "What about you, Holden? Have you sent in your application yet?"
Holden's jaw locks and he glares at Tyler.
Oh, God. I completely forgot about Holden meeting the Syracuse coach today. If we are friends, what kind of friend am I? He's already stressed out.
I shut my laptop and turn to Tyler. "Thanks, again."
Standing with my laptop under my arm, I grab Holden's hand and pull him into the elevator down the hall. He presses the button for the top floor and we begin moving.
"Just because you're stressed out doesn't mean you can take it out on me," I state crossing my arms.
His face softens a little and he rolls his eyes. "Yeah I know. Sorry."
"So how'd it go?"
He sighs. "Fine I guess." The elevator stops and the doors slide open. We step out and walk to his room, he unlocks the door and throws his jacket off once we're inside. "I just," he runs his hands through his hair. "I don't even care about college. I hate school. I just want to play lacrosse."
Holden sits down with his head in his hands. I sit beside him, my hand on his back. "College isn't for everyone. Schools not for everyone. Can't you do major league and skip school? You can always come back to it later if that's what you want."
Holden sighs. "If I don't go to college, a good one, I won't get my share of the business. They'll give it to Tyler."
"Is that why you resent him?" I ask.
Holden groans shrugging my hand off his back. "This isn't fucking Doctor Phil, Harper."
"Sorry," I say quietly, putting my hands in my lap.
"Maybe your dad won't be mad," I say, trying to be optimistic. Even if he is mad, won't he get over it?
"Mad about what?" Vincent asks, closing the door behind him. Holden and I jump slightly, never even noticing the door had opened.
I stutter incoherently, my eyes widening.
I turn and look at Holden, if he wants me to stay for support, I will.
"It's okay, you can go," he assures me. I nod and stand.
"Um, nice seeing you Vincent," I give a small smile as I exit the room.
He nods in response as I walk out. I have to finish my essay anyway.
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Holden stands up, meeting his dad's height, though he still feels small.
"I had lunch with the Syracuse lacrosse coach today. They want me to play for them. So does Cornell and Albany and Carolina."
Vincent's face breaks from solemnity and he laughs shaking his head. Holden is instantly angry.
How dare he laugh in his face.
Holden didn't expect anything less, but it still pissed him off.
"Only one of those is an Ivy League, son. Cornell is certainly no Harvard, but I didn't expect so from you."
Holden's jaw clenches. "I haven't decided on Cornell yet."
"What do you mean you haven't decided?" Vincent asks, his voice hardening.
"I mean I don't want to go to college!" Holden shouts in frustration. He runs a hand through his hair and sighs, finally making a choice. "I'm not applying anywhere. And if I was, it'd be Syracuse or Albany, not Cornell."
Vincent, fuming, takes a step closer before his palm collides with Holden's cheek.
Holden's head whips to the side and he stumbles a little but stays composed. He keeps his eyes on the ground, jaw still clenched with fury.
"How dare you," Vincent spits. "I give you everything! I get you out of any trouble you're ever into! I provide you with all the tools to be successful! And you throw it all away?" He roars.
Vincent shakes his head and takes a deep breath. "You will apply to an Ivy League school. You will be accepted. And if you are not, you can say goodbye to your potential part of the company."
Holden's head snaps up, the side of his face red and hot from the slap he received.
"No," he shakes his head. "Dad. Just give me until the end of the year, and I'll prove I can handle it. I can run a business."
Vincent laughs dryly. "How are you going to do that?"
Holden's mouth gapes as he stumbles for an answer.
"If you can somehow miraculously show me that you can be successful on your own, without a degree, then you don't have to go. I'll let you have your share and you can go play lacrosse and sleep with whores and do whatever else it is you want. But you will apply to an Ivy League this year. And if you don't prove yourself to me, you will go."
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"I sent my application into Yale," Lydia states.
Jake looks at her blankly, taking a bite of his steak. "Nice," he says simply, his mouth still full of food.
It's not that he didn't want to talk to Lydia. It's that he didn't want to talk about college. And it's not that he didn't feel bad whenever he spoke to her or met her eyes. It's that he couldn't bring himself to leave her alone.
He needed her.
But what about what she needed?
He couldn't even ask himself the question, because he knew the answer would exclude him. It was only a matter of time before she asked herself.
The guilt of the Ainsley situation was driving Jake to drink. In fact, he was drinking a beer now as they sat outside of a cafe eating lunch. It had also driven him to more drugs and more sex with Lydia. He also showered her with gifts, more than usual but Lydia's thought nothing of it.
He loves her. Or at least he thinks so.
Lydia sighs at Jakes unresponsiveness. She knows he doesn't care much for college. He's one of those guys that figured, why bother if your parents can give you enough money to set up a lavish life for you, your kids, and your grandkids to come?
He's so different than Lydia. So much more laid back and relaxed. Lydia's driven. Always focused, always stressed.
"Did you send in your application, Jake?" She sighs, picking at the salad in front of her.
He shakes his head no, not meeting her eyes and instead focusing on some trees behind her, then a pretty red head walking a pug past them.
"You're running out of time," Lydia says softly. She's never as harsh with Jake as she is with everyone else. She never wanted to nag him, she just wants what's best for him; he knows that. Little does she know, he wouldn't go anywhere if she did or not.
"I think I'm just going to apply to NYU. Stay in the city. There's nothing for me anywhere else."
Lydia wrinkles her nose. "At least apply to Columbia or Cornell," she says.
"I don't really care about the whole Ivy League thing, Lyd," Jake tells her, though she already knows.
Lydia sighs. "Okay, fine."
After a few seconds of silence Jake changes the topic. "Are you still fucking with Harper?"
Lydia shrugs.
"She's nothing. She'll self destruct in her own time anyway."
"I heard she's walking in Salima's show," Jake mumbles.
Lydia's jaw locks, eyes narrowing at the news.
"Interesting."
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Harper exits the elevator on the top floor of the Annabelle, a smile on her face. She had just sent in her application and she was proud of it. Elijah had also just sent his in to Columbia.
"Hey, Harper," Tyler says as he turns the corner and lays his eyes on her.
She was pretty, he noticed that. Her brown skin resembled smooth caramel, her hair was in perfect curls stopping around her shoulders. She had big brown doe eyes and plump, pink lips.
Her being pretty only made his plan easier on him.
"Where you headed?" He asks when he catches up with her.
"Holden's room," she replies nonchalantly.
"Same."
Harper inwardly groans at his response, knowing Holden will be annoyed with Tyler's presence. They're cousins. Why can't they just get along?
"I finished my essay by the way. Thanks," Harper smiles. Not only did she want to inform Holden that she sent in her application, but she wanted to see how things went with his dad yesterday.
"That's great," Tyler smiles back. "Hey, listen Harper," he starts, stopping and touching her arm gently before they reach Holden's door.
"I wanted to know if you maybe wanted to have lunch sometime?"
Harper's eyes widen, taken aback by the suggestion. Tyler was nice. He was smart and kind and funny. But Holden hated him. Would if she started to like him? Would he still help her if she started dated him?
Harper shakes her head gently with an apologetic smile. "I don't think that's a good idea Tyler."
Tyler nods in understanding.
"Holden?" He asks knowingly.
Harper's mouth gapes and she stutters slightly trying to form an answer.
"It's okay," Tyler stops her laughing lightly. "I get it. My cousin can be...persuasive. Not nearly as charming though. Or handsome," he jokes and Harper smiles awkwardly and knocks on Holden's door.
"But he does play games," Tyler continues, his tone and face more serious than before. "When you get tired of those games, you know where to find me."
Not knowing what to say Harper nods silently as the door opens.
Holden's eyes dart between the two before him.
"What?" He snaps rolling his eyes.
Harper's eyes zero in on the bruise on his cheek, but she can't bring herself to comment on it.
"Just popping in to say hello," Tyler smiles, pushing his way past Holden and into the room.
Sighing and shaking his head Holden follows Tyler into the living room, and Harper steps in, closing the door behind her.
She takes a few steps towards Holden before finally speaking.
"Oh my God," she says. "What happened?" She asks, absentmindedly letting her fingers brush against his bruised cheek. He lets her for a second, then jerks his head away.
"Nothing. I'm fine," he spits. "Weren't you just here? Don't you ever go home?"
Harper's eyebrows furrow and she takes a step back out of shock.
"I just wanted to see how things went with you dad," she says sternly, holding her head high.
Holden's jaw clenches at the mention of the situation.
"Fuck, Harper," he groans in frustration. "You are not my fucking girlfriend! Do you understand that?" He shouts.
Harper jumps slightly and stands looking at Holden's angry, unapologetic face for a second. Then her gaze switches to Tyler, who stands pouring himself a drink.
Tyler looks shocked, but more so intrigued by the situation as he switches his focus from Holden to Harper to see her reaction.
"So lunch, then?" Harper asks Tyler calmly, though feeling angry and vengeful, completely ignoring Holden's outburst and presence.
Tyler smiles victoriously, then nods at her in response. "I'll text you."
Harper nods, then turns and exits.
Holden stands with his eyebrows furrowed in confusion, his eyes narrowed at Tyler.
"Lunch?" He asks slowly. Tyler sips his drink silently, angering Holden further. "You don't even like the girl! You only want her because I do!"
"You just made it pretty clear that you don't want to be with her," Tyler shrugs.
"I don't!" Holden shouts in frustration, tugging slightly at his hair.
He doesn't want to be with her. But he does want her. And he certainly doesn't want to see her with anyone, especially Tyler.
Tyler finishes his drink and sets his glass down on the counter before approaching Holden.
"I think you need to figure out what you want, Holden. Because you obviously aren't sure," Tyler starts. He places a gentle hand on his cousins shoulder causing Holden's face to distort in disgust. "But it's okay. Lucky for you, I know what you want. That deal with uncle Vincent," Tyler pauses to shake his head. "Never gonna work out."
Holden's jaw clenches. How does he even know about that already?
"Everything you have," Tyler continues. "I'm about to take."
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HEY IM BACK READS ARE CLIMBING SO FAST OMG LOVE YOU GUYS DONT FORGET TO VOTE AND COMMENT WHAG YOU'RE THINKING I LOVE COMMENTS ALSO IVE BEEN ADDED TO SOOO MANY READING LISTS THANKS.
Sorry for slow updates I've been super busy and I'm currently in Puerto Rico bc my 16th birthday was the other day on the 29th ahhhh.
Ok this is kind of a filler chapter also I hinted on Holden and his dad's abuse back in chapter 3 if you caught it.
This GG clip freaking kills me every time my heart is ripped out of my chest chuck was so mean to Blair sometimes.