west coast | levi.a

𝟐.𝟔

With glamour, came a price, and Y/N was paying for it harshly. A life that most would kill for, came the mental damage of being the eldest daughter, the eldest grandchild to a family that owned a company that dated back to the industrial revolution. Y/N had been pulled apart, lousily glued together and shaped into the perfect heiress since she could call for her mother.

Humans were made for disorder, so naturally, forcing perfection upon a being made for chaos, resulted in breakage. It was a slow, cruel torture method, she thought. As a child of course, no one suspects that anyone could ever do them harm.

You're made to believe it's out of love, that they're just looking out for you. The comments about what she ate, what she wore, who she talked to, what her grades were, it was out of love, she was raised to think.

The harsh remarks about her mother's family from her father's proud sister in laws were there to remind her that she was her father's daughter, that at the end of the day it was her father's last name she wore, and that the company was hers.

Getting sent to the most expensive of boarding schools to be raised by teachers who held no affection for the filthy rich, who curated minds to believe they were better than others, Y/N receiving nothing but counsel and judgement in the years she was supposed to receive love and affection, of course, such coldness and brutality causes for the birth of something else, out of pure instinct to survive.

And in Y/N's case, it was obsession. An obsession that ran so thick and dark. It didn't matter what it was, if she took a liking to something, she became infatuated, obsessed. She would die for it.

After years of sitting on her father's lap in his meetings idly, Y/N became obsessed with the status her father had. People nodded at him, complimented him, and praised him. For a little girl who had a void of any affection in her life, this was gold to her. If she could be like her father, then this certain void would certainly be filled.

The obsession towards this end goal was what fed her. What kept her head high, ignoring the toxicity her family tried to suffocate her with. Her siblings could jest all they wanted, but none of them were even close to being obsessed with the father's position the way Y/N was.

She studied all his friends, his confidants, the way they all talked, where they had studied, what they had studied. She watched closely how people acted around her father and would routinely search them up, finding out anything and everything about them.

Y/N's first obsession was to be the best, because being the best meant that people would have to admire her, because at some point, someone else would then have a stroke of obsession the way she had, and would love her in that same way.

But with all addictions, too much came at a high cost, and for Y/N, this was her sanity. At some point at the end of her teenager years, it was as if the bubbling pot that her family used to brew the perfect daughter had overflowed. Too much heat applied, too much pressure, causing the pot to explode.

Y/N cracked when she was seventeen. She began to bite back at anyone who commented on her appearance. Y/N spoke back to elders who had patronised her for years, and she missed school, even though her intellect was her prized possession. Her father grew frantic, searching for reasons why his daughter had become so withdrawn, but Y/N was simply sick of it.

The obsession had worn out, and now her father's position was nothing more than a gilded cage. A life that she wasn't too sure she wanted.

It didn't go down well. She had been trained to be the heir, everyone knew how much she wanted it when she was younger, so no one could understand why she suddenly detested it. To those she was close to, all she could ever babble about was the fact that one day she'd take over the family's pride, and how she'd do right by them, so why had she suddenly been so determined to step down?