Beautiful, Dirty, Rich (Monsta X Fanfiction)

Chapter Eighty Eight: If 2+2 is 4...

Minhyuk and I stopped at a cafe after dress shopping, enjoying a brunch to alleviate some of my annoyance from the day. Then we decided to go shopping, like old times. Sadly It wasn't quite as fun, the stress and backhanded comments from earlier kept coming to mind. Every pair of jeans or top that I tried in felt too small or unflattering. 

We couldn't spend much time doing that, though, because I had to be home fairly early. 

"Wonho gave you a curfew?" Minhyuk asked as we were taking the elevator up to the penthouse. "What are you, a kid?"

"Yes and no," I sighed. "He's worried about me because of the 'research' that I've been doing." 

"Lame," he grumbled. "I was hoping to maybe watch a movie while I was here. The concessions in France is trash compared to the popcorn here." Minhyuk pouted, "But I guess it's fine. I should probably rest. I've been awake for about twenty four hours now..."

"You definitely need to rest, then!" I told him.

The elevator doors opened to the penthouse. It was empty, the lights still off. I took my shopping bags from Minhyuk, who was helping me carry them up until now.

"I guess I should take off," he glanced down at his watch. 

"Thanks for coming for the dress shopping," I said. "I know that it was probably hard for you." I chuckled. "And boring." I'm sure designers also got bored by shopping, especially when it comes to the same old white dresses.

"Boring? No," he shook his head. "Although it was hard watching you try on dresses. Especially knowing that you'll be walking down the aisle to someone else..." His voice trailed off for a moment before quickly smiling. "See you later." 

Once the elevator doors closed, I was finally alone again. My eyes trailed down to the many bags clutched in my grasp.

"Why did I buy so much stuff?" I asked myself, shaking my head. 

Shopping was becoming a coping mechanism for me, an unhealthy one at that. Even though I'm marrying an ultra-rich guy, I still shouldn't spend money so frivolously. I needed to deal with my problems rather than escaping them, like usual.

I went to me room, new belongings in hand. The shoes on my feet were starting to hurt, so I was itching to get out of them. Along the way, something got caught on my desk chair. My purse and shopping bags fell to the ground, the contents falling out.

"Just great," I grumbled. This minor inconvenience was starting to feel like the end of the world. I leaned down to pick everything up. "Not like this day could get any worse."

My first thought was to worry about the value of the Hermes bag. It's worth a million dollars! The Birkin bag was practically a priceless work of art. And I couldn't even take proper care of it? How hard is it to not drop a bag?

'I'm such an idiot.'

I crouched down, picking up the spilled belongings. First I found my wallet, now flopped open with receipts and change all over the place. My mirror and lip gloss were askew, both broken. And to make matters worse, the sticky substance spilled onto the Birkin. 

"Great... just fucking great." One million dollars down the drain after one simple drop. I hurried to grab tissue, wiping at the glossy pink that stained the Himalayan leather. As if a miracle, the makeup came off instantly. 

'See? I guess it's no the end of the world.'

I set the bag down on my desk, ready to never touch it again. Clearly I was bad luck, because everything I touched was ruined.