Unwritten I

one.

So the only thing I've known in my life about is money. How to use it, how to save it and all of the other things in between. I was never taught what to do without this resource, just that it's good to have a lot of it.

I should probably start at the beginning, you didn't come here for financial advice. If you did, I'm pretty sure there's another book for that in the library, bookstore or wherever you're reading this.

This, is my story. How I was able to climb my way out of poverty. It's a pretty good tale, if I do say so myself, and I'll warn you that it isn't for the faint of heart.

So...I guess I'll just get on with it...

I came from old money. My father has, his father has and pretty much my family has always had money. It's what we're best known for: being rich. Although I live in the modern world, my culture still is run as though we are stuck in the 50's. I don't have much of an education. I am only in my second year of college, pursuing a degree in journalism. It's the guy's job to secure the financial gains. Women pretty much just have degrees and letters behind their names for decoration or to impress other women. (Oh what lengths women will go to just to make other women jealous!) What we're "made for" is to bear the offspring and take care of the house. Aka: have the kids, make sure the maids and nannies are doing their jobs correctly and,at the end of the day, have some work done to remain youthful. Don't want other women to gossip about you, right?

I've gone through the many years of etiquette training, studied the likes/dislikes of my future suitor and even stay on top of trends to keep up with the other girls. It just seems like too much work to just keep a man but it's what we're bred to do. Luckily, my parents aren't as strict as other parents are about their suitors.

My best friend, Erin Matthews, is required to meet with her suitor at least once a week to have dinner and catch up on each others' lives. I haven't even met suitor personally. I only know what I do because he's pretty famous and lands his pretty little face in the tabloids often enough. Peter Anders took his parent's riches to an all new level and established a celebrity status by inviting every popular influencer to all of his parties. What a show off!

The day I was born, my life was signed away to this character. People describe the same way his name comes across: a total dickhead.

Thing is, I really don't want to do this whole "marriage thing" with Pete. He's a plain ol' douche and I don't think our personalities are even close to being compatible. Erin agrees, she doesn't think that the rich elite should marry each other to "keep the bloodlines pure" as our academies constantly shove down our throats.

"I just can't believe he's making you move from Chicago!"Erin's British accent cuts through my thoughts. "I mean, it's hard enough you have to get married, but...this?! It's absurd!!"

"E, when you have to get married, you'll understand," my calm Aussie accent matched her point. "It's where his business is, not here." I sat down in my bed, lounging into the plethora of pillows scattered along the top.

"Yeah, well, at least your suitor isn't gay..." she pouts, folding her arms across her chest, pinching her nose and turns away from me.

"How do you know Warren is for sure gay?" I muse, flipping onto my stomach and begin drawing imaginary figures on the sheets.

Erin turns back to me, flinging her arms in the air and walks towards the bed. "I'm being serious, R!" she whines, falling next to me and onto her stomach. I hear her mumble incoherent words but couldn't understand because her face was in the sheets.

I stopped drawing for a minute and peered towards her. "What was that, mumbles? Are you talking to me or the bed?"

She sighs and turns her head to the side. "We went to our weekly dinner this past weekend."