You Did A Bad Thing

Chapter 1: Blondie.

Chapter 1: Blondie.

"I don't know." I tell Kylie as she stares at me with her blue notepad in her hand.

That notepad contains all the information I had told her so far. About me and what I had been through.

"You have to try to talk about it. At least once." She urges me.

"I wish I could. But my heart isn't ready, so my lips cannot talk right now." I tell her.

"It's all right. We'll try again next Wednesday." She says, giving me a reassuring nod.

A knock is heard on the door as I try to gather my things from the chair.

"Miss Paragon, your car has arrived." A blonde girl tells me as she opens the door.

"Thank you." I say to Kylie before I grab my purse.

Walking out of my therapist's office, I see my driver, Phil leaning against the amoured exterior of my father's G-Wagon.

"Done already?" Phil asks me with a coy smile.

Phil is in his late twenties, his tall build and soccer player frame is enough to make any woman swoon. Not me though, he's married and I don't crush on married men.

Anymore.

"Yeah, I have to meet Dad at the office." I tell him and he nods.

"That'll be a twenty minute drive plus traffic." He informs me as pat his back and I walk past him.

I get into the car and check my messages. I have three and they are all from my roommate, Julia. Two of them are voice memos and the other is a picture of a new cat litter she bought for our cat.

As annoying as she can be, I miss her. I can't wait to get back to New York. Los Angeles air is too worn out.

Julia and I rented a two bedroom apartment sophomore year, with an amazing view of the city and a beautiful balcony.

Oh, I love that house.

But it'll be a while before I go back, I'm on break right now and I'm spending time with 'family' I guess.

I'm currently staying at my dad's house and I'll see my mother on Sunday. That's the routine every time I'm back home. Ever since their divorce my life in LA has just been this big chore.

That's why I applied to NYU to get away from them. And my mother urged me to school outside of Los Angeles because she felt like my life had been California-bound ever since I was born.

It's not like I'm complaining, but UCLA would have been just fine.

"Off you go." Phil says as he puts the car in park.

"I'll see you back at home. I'll ride back with Dad." I tell him, not wanting to task him with the job of waiting for me.

"Sounds good, see ya." He says, flashing me a cheeky smiles before I close the door.

Paragon Co.

The words at the top of the silver building read.

This is where my father works. He is CEO. I'm not one to title drop but I'm really proud of my father. He's been working here. For the past ten years, he's sacrificed and given them all his time. Every missed ballet recital, birthday, formal, father-daughter day, is thanks to this company.

My father's first love.

This company is played a huge part in my parents' divorce. She hated that my father worked too much and my father, unchanging, ignored her pleas to spend more time with the family. One day she got tired of begging him and waiting for him at the set dinner table, so she filed for divorce.