Is There Somewhere?

0.1 -Introducing the Rich Teenager Who Happens to be an Insomniac

0.1 -Introducing the Rich Teenager Who Happens to be an Insomniac

"Beep, Beep, Beep" The horrible alarm sounded. Although I was wide awake, I listened to the aggravating sound as it blasted around the walls of my room. I slowly sat up, and hit the "Dismiss" bottom on the top of the alarm clock. The sound stopped, I sighed deeply.

"Don't f- with my love, this heart is so col-" Ed Sheeran's voice came through my phone, that could only be one person.

"Hello?" I answered the call, feeling a tinge of regret.

"Hey, sleeping beauty. How'd you sleep?" The one and only Dylan DiMaggio asked through my shitty phone. Here is the thing about Dylan, me and him aren't even friends. Well, maybe the hatred is a bit one sided, since we hook up every once in awhile- other than that, I can't stand him.

"Ha! You act like I got a drop of sleep." I replied.

"Why not?" He asked

"That's like asking a melodramatic teenager why they are being melodramatic. Don't ask an insomniac why they can't sleep at night, you fuck tard." I spat at him, clearly annoyed at his existence.

"You are a melodramatic teenager, Honey-buns" Yes, I now really regret answering this call. "Anyway, I called to ask what you are doing today. Any plans? We can have plans in my bed." I pushed on, making me hate him even more.

"1. Don't call me that, 2. Never going to happen. And you know what I'm doing? I'm going to school considering I'm one of those melodramatic teenagers that wants a future! You illiterate- dog. Why do you always assume I want to sleep with you?" I snapped

"What? I just want to watch a movie with my girlfriend!" Wait, what?

"Dylan, we're not dating."

"Ara, you know how much I like you."

"I don't care." I say as I hang up. I don't really have a reason why I hate him, I just do. I know what you're probably thinking "Gosh, why is she such a bitch?" Here is my answer, I'm not. I just don't like to stay up all night staring at a ceiling. See, I'm not bitchy just sleep deprived and cranky. I glace over my shoulder, reading the time: 6:48.

I quickly hop on my bed and walk over to my mirror and just stare at my reflection for a bit. I have medium length, unnatural blonde hair and hazel eyes. I hear it a lot "OH MY GOD! Ara Winchester is such sexy, especially her ass." which is most definitely not true at all, Megan Fox is hot, I'm just me. My ass on the other hand is fairly nice considering i spend half of my life at the gym working out.

I get ready quickly, putting on make-up, brushing my teeth, daily morning routine.

"My name is, My name is, My name is- Slim Shady" Sounded from my phone, i know the caller before I even check the caller I.D. My best friend- Blake Martinez.

"Hey loser. Did you talk to your boyfriend?" She says while laughing.

"Shut up, me and Dylan aren't dating!" I exclaimed.

"You guys sure look like it, you know; when your tongues are down each others throats." More hysterical laughter. "By the way, I was talking about Finn." She said, the laughing stops.

"Finn isn't my boyfriend either!" I said, embarrassed.

"Only in your dreams. I don't see why you're so caught up with him anyway."

Finn Gusto there is so much to say about this boy at once. He's the boy with a laugh that is so cute it will make you melt. His eyelashes are truly alluring. He is just perfection, to me that is.

"I don't know, I guess it's just that he understands where I am coming from, and he listens." I said, even though she hears the same reason each time.

"Well, Ara is in love" She says, laughing again.

"No!" I squeak.

"I'll be over in fifteen to pick you up. Be ready." She says and abruptly hangs up.

"GOODBYE TO YOU TOO BLAKE!" I yell.

I roam around the empty halls of my house, I practically live alone. I have my house keeper Gloria, who practically raised me and that is all. My parents are always traveling for business. My mother is a CEO of Winchester Inc. And my father is her shadow. They share the spotlight, but leave me in a big house alone with a forty-something year old Parisian lady. I guess that is what happens when your parents are millionaires. You barely know them.

I put on the clothes I set aside for the day and walk into the kitchen for some coffee.

"Ahhh! Good morning, Ara." Gloria states, her Parisian accent flowing through her words. "Would you like some coffee, magnifique" She asks, calling me "Magnificent" in French. I nod at her offer.

"Is Mademoiselle Blake on her way?"

"Yes Gloria, I think she is almost here." I said and she smiles and hands me the coffee.

"Merci, beaucoup." which in English it translates to "Thank you, very much." I speak fluent French, which is pretty much mandatory since I go to Paris every summer.

"ARA!!" Blake bangs on the front door.

"I'm coming!" I say as I run to open the door.

Blake has been my best friend since the seventh grade. She is sometimes really loud, but she always knows how to cheer me up. She has long brown hair, brown eyes, typical Spanish girl.

"Woman! It's already 8:00!" She exclaims, but I know she doesn't really care.

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