How To Be A Heartbreaker

One

Grace

The people that live in the Upstate of New York are known as the perfect families. Rich stuck ups, with spoiled brats for children that attend the most expensive school in the whole state. To the people that do not live there that is, because every person that lives there has a monthly salary that is higher than three workers' yearly one. What these people do not know about this side of the city is that it is far from the fairytale people picture it is. For example, when people meet me the first thing that comes to mind is "great, another stuck up Michaelson that doesn't know what 'NO' means" though what they do not know is my backstory.

I am nothing like my brother, David. He's a football star for our school, has a scholarship for the best University in the state, if not in the country, has a gorgeous and smart girlfriend, Sydney and basically whatever you can think of. Dave has the perfect life, a life I always envied. Being jealous of your older sibling is one thing, but what i feel about Dave's luck is not jealousy, it's envy and hatred. I hate that my brother gets whatever he wants when I'm always the outsider in the family. What I hate most about my brother though, is his friends. Those creeps that were always taught that they can have whatever they want, whether that was money, fame, power, people.

This are the kind of people that care about no one but themselves. They give zero shits if you're bothered by their actions, they only care about having fun. I hate this people, their circles, cliques, whatever you want to call it. I hate them, and I hate that i was born to be just like them. I know what you may think. Boohoo, another rich kid that complains about everything. I know, that is what everybody said. When my mom died, they said I should suck it up. When Steve Benjamin posted that video, they said I want it it to happen. None of which were true, i couldn't get over the death of my mother like it was an ordinary Saturday, I couldn't stand being humiliated on the internet like that. But I did. And I chose the cowards way to escape this living hell. Pills, the anti depressands that were prescripted to me, with a little bit of scotch it was supposed to be fatal. Wrong. It just ended with my father yelling profanities at the ER.

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I'm in my brother BMW, waiting for his sorry ass to take me to school, 'three day's grace' playing on my headphones as I rest my head against the window, closing my eyes, thinking what it would be like to have a middle class, nuclear family and the one i have now. My jackass of a father and his bimbo girlfriend that only wants his money, my stupid jock brother and the people that come into the house as if we are a train station. I don't even know them, and I'm pretty sure that neither does dad. The only person I like in this charade is Sydney, Dave's girlfriend. Her life is pretty similar to ours though she's the sweetest girl you'll ever meet. She cares about me as if I was her little sister, even if she didn't have to, she 'took me under her wing' when I was 15, after the video incident. She probably felt pity for me but that didn't stop her from treating me like an equal.

My dreaming was interapted by a knock on the window. I opened my eyes and stared at the person who had disturbed me. Nolan. My brother's best friend. He's not as bad as the rest of his teammates but that doesn't make him good either. He's just tolerable. Dave got into the drivers seat and pointed at the back "Come on Gracie, you know the drill" he said starting the engine. Nolan had opened the passenger's side's door, waiting for me to get out and sit on the back. I threw him a sarcastic smile, getting in the back by passing over the console, half of my ass on display.

Why do they make the skirts of school uniforms so short ?

Nolan had a stupid smirk on his face, earning a slap on the back of his head from my brother "Dude, seriously?" he huffed, stepping on the petal, making the car start. His brown haired friend shrugged, muttering a 'sorry' before locking eyes with me on the rear view mirror. I rolled mine, putting up my middle finger before drowning out their conversation with my music, waiting to go from one hell to another. Redwood Academy, in Upper West Side, mostly rich kids attend there but some of the students have scholarships, though those are just a handful. It's a great college, don't get me wrong, the pupils that go there on the other hand, aren't so great. They only thing they talk about are cars, clothes and anything else they buy with daddy's money. At least I have one normal friend, Ella. Her father works for mine and we met at one of the galas the company had organized five years ago. That was the only good thing that came from this galas. Another thing I hate about being Sean Michealson's daughter. Public Image. Me and Dave were always told we needed to be liked by the media. He even managed to get rid of all the drama that Steve's post had caused. How he did that, I have no idea.

However, getting rid of the drama on the rest of the world doesn't mean you get rid of it from the core. I can still hear boys and girls whispering to each other "what a slut" and " the whore got what she deserved" and for sometime i believed them, I'm sure that my father did too. He always blamed me for what happened, told that I shouldn't act like a whore if I didn't want to be treated like one. Thankfully, that is when my uncle stepped in. Ben, my mother's brother. He is a doctor at Bellevue, were I was hospitalized and he helped me a lot. I am grateful to have him at least, and his girlfriend -soon to be wife- Laura as my family.

After about half an hour we arrived, before i could close the door i heard my brother say 'Be careful, Gracie" i rolled my eyes once again, murmuring under my breath " as if you care " before shutting the door, making my way to my first class of the day. Political science, yay (note the sarcasm), i just had to wait for literature with Mr. Spencer, they only class I actually enjoyed.