🥃 No Body, No Crime
by Taylor Swift ft. HAIM
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On December 20th, 4 days before my grand plan was out in action, I got myself two fake IDs to use, extremely realistic fake IDs, and fake documentation in each of them. The one I would use to leave the US and the one I would use to live out of here.
Respectively Katy Belle York Choi, who's birth name is Choi Lia and she's South Korean-Welsh and Dorothea Melina Duhamel Chen, who's birth name is Chen Mei Ling and she's Chinese-French, which I can pull because mother's paternal great-grandma was Chinese and father's paternal grandma was French, and I'm fluent in both languages.
I stayed the whole time in a hostel at the outskirts of Boston, ever since I left MIT the day I warned Harriet after slapping her back, I may not be a spender like everyone in the family, but I do have tons of money, after all, the amount my dad gave me aside from paying for all of my studies and medics and everything, per the settlement they did when I was a newborn back in Auckland, was about a fourth of a million dollars per month.
And if you don't know math, that's $250,000 monthly, not counting school or doctors or any of that. That amount, in four months, turned into one million dollars, and since the year has twelve months, by the end of it, if I didn't spend it, I would have 4 million. Yes, my father is that rich, and he's grown to be even richer with time, which is good for me, because it means he kept paying for me wealthily.
In the hands of mother, that money would have lasted a bloody week, but since only I could touch that money, and I knew better than go around spending, because I knew that one day shit would go south and I would need that financial reassurance, I didn't spend it. At all. All the money I did spend was with what I got through summer and small jobs around, like walking dogs, babysitting, doing other people's assignments, and stuff like that.
Which means the bank account my father made for me in Switzerland, where he or his people deposited all of my money, stayed pristine, and with time, my maternal family forgot that I was still being paid, which was amazing, because they wouldn't remember I had money to do whatever the hell I wanted. How much is 4 times 19?
If you said 76, you are correct. Now, add six zeros at the end and you have $76,000,000. That's how much I have in my bank, it may not seem like much compared to how rich my parents and the Kings are, but to me, who have nothing else and nobody, it's a lot. And I was planning on multiplying that number after I graduated in MIT through the work I was planning on landing in Silicon Valley, California, but that ain't happening no more, given how everything turned out.
Which only makes me angrier.
In all honesty, despite how much I hate Charlie King and Dante Vitale King, or how much I also hate Landon and Chlóe King, Alessandro and Alessia Vitale, I understand why they went there and threw all the blame on me to clean Dante's ass, because he is his beloved son and their precious grandson, and I've always known they would do everything to protect him from any whiplash that could come from his actions. Even if it makes me blind with anger, and makes me want to punish them. I get it, I'd do the same for my child.
That doesn't lessen up how guilty they are in this whole fucking thing, or how guilty Dante is for not being a men and owning the shit he caused, for not going there and speaking up about the fact that he was the one who nearly murdered Garrett, not me. Even if this whole mess got me craving to have done it instead, it all means I shouldn't have been considerate of him, and I shouldn't have called him there. Had I not, none of that would've happened, and definitely not the bloody kiss that's still haunting my awake and asleep thoughts.
I still have no idea why he did that, even less why I kissed him back instead of punching him away from me like I would do to a mosquito. Sure, sometimes, rarely, I did think about how annoyingly attractive he was, but he was never on my mind like that, 99% of the time I thought about him, I was actually thinking about how to hurt him, how to get back at him, and how to kill him even. Because he was the cataclysm of all the hateful backlashing I went through in the last 10 years, from school to "home".
