Billionaire (ON HOLD!)

Teenage years versus the real world

I constantly go on shopping sprees. I don't work or make money myself, but I have a credit card owned and paid for by my parents.

You must be thinking, "oh wow, another rich girl who gets everything handed to her on a silver platter." This is not the case.

I have designed a number of fashion lines. I don't consider this work because it is more of a hobby. One day, I received a call from a fashion design company requesting I take partial ownership of the company. I accepted and did not realize what I was in for.

After a month of insomnia from pulling my way, a friend forced me to quit.

It wasn't healthy at all for me, but in reality, my friend ended up snagging the job.

This was a large loss, but a huge win for me. I gained my strength back, and watched her suffer through an affair.

She was sleeping with a married man, in which got her pregnant.

Fate has an incredible way of working itself through.

All of this has occurred only since my freshman year.

I have just reached my senior year of highschool, and my 18th birthday is approaching. I decided to have a large gathering, for this is the turning point into adulthood.

This is going to be the party of the century, so it must be planned accordingly. I decide to use my parents credit card to hire extravagant party planners.

"I want the party favors to be Christian Louboutin shoe boxes with Jimmy Choo shoe box lids. Each box will have a pair of pumps in them, but two boxes will have either a Jimmy Choo pump, or a Christian Louboutin pump. The rest will have cheap, plastic-like pumps," I voice.

"That is a great idea! Now let's move on to the more crucial aspects of this party. Would you like sit down food, or grab and go?"

"Grab and go, of course," I comply.

"Alright, how about quantity? How many people are needing to be fed," the party planner inquires.

"Over 250."

"Okay, what food would you like to be served?"

"A chocolate fountain, pound cake and fruits for the chocolate fountain, crab balls, rolls with cinnamon butter, deli meats, steak fries, and cheesecake."

"My favorites," the party planner jokes over my non matching decisions.

"What about decorations? Venue?"

"I want it to be in our summer home in the keys. I will arrange yacht transportation from the canal. I want the pool to be opened for the party, along with a DJ booked," I request.

"I think I can manage that, I'll text you when I have the DJ booked."

"Alright," I escort the party planner out.

Later that day, the planner texts me;

Hey, I booked Calvin Harris as a DJ. A lady in my office is related to him. The party is almost ready, I just need the address of your summer home. Chao!

I text back;

Calvin Harris?! WOO! You'll be getting a major tip for that. The address is 509 East Beach way. Thanks, again!!!