[ON HOLD] ♡Arranged • GD & SM♡

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--JANE-- (^their mansion^)

I hate him.

I hate this marriage.

Why is he such a good looking man--no I shouldn't use that term. He is less than a man. How can he be such a good looking guy, yet be so douch-ey at the same time?

Im Jane. Im a model. My full name is Jane Violet Watson-Dolan. Yes, you heard that correctly. Dolan. I am married to Grayson Dolan. Trust me it wasn't my choice. Our parents arranged it for us when we turned 20. We come from extremely wealthy families, and people think that we are spoiled little rich kids. Our parents didn't like what the people said, but they also agreed with them. They said that we needed to learn to be more responsible and mature, and that an arranged marriage was the only way. So here we are. We live in a nice mansion in Beverly Hills, that our parents bought us as a wedding gift. We have about 15 maids that keep it tidy for us, and I am thankful for them. Especially Penelope and Piper, they are such sweethearts. Whenever Grayson yells at me, they come by my side to comfort me. They are practically my older sisters. Penelope is 32, and Piper just turned 35.

Its been four years.

Fours years of torture.

Four years of snarky remarks.

Four years of constant insults.

Four years of crying myself to sleep.

Suddenly the door slams. I jump at the sound. "Jane!" He yells. "Get the fuck down here!"

I groan. I put down my book and head down to the kitchen. The way our house works is that the door to the garage is connected to the kitchen. So when we come home, we enter into the kitchen when we walk inside. Connected to the kitchen is the dinning room. Anyways, I get there and he looks fuming with anger. I give him a 'What?' Look.

"Care to explain why the maids aren't here today?" He says, crossing his arms..

"I sent them home. Thought they needed to end their work early today for their hard work." I say, following his pattern in crossing my arms.

"Who said you could do that? I am the one who makes the decisions in this house!" He yells at me.

"Let me stop you there, I own this house too! I pay bills too! I can make decisions as well! Okay? This is my house! You got that?" I yell back. He takes a step closer towards me.

"You talk to me like that, it won't be your house anymore." He says and leaves without a word. I sigh aggravated. Like we're going to divorce anytime soon. Our parents will disown us.

I walk to the fridge and grab a pre-made salad. I grab my French dressing and lightly pour it on top. I go sit down and call my little sister, Natalia, she's 18. She still lives at home while she models. I didn't want to be in the house alone with Grayson, thats why I called her.

After a few short moments of about 20 minutes, the door bell rings. I go to answer it knowing Grayson won't. I see my sister standing there with a tub of cookie dough ice cream with her. I bring her into a hug. We let go.

"I am so glad you came Natti. He is being such a dick today." I sigh as I let her into my kitchen and open up the ice cream and dig in.

"No worries, Jane. I got yo' back sista." She says nudging me with her elbow.

"Thanks Nattie." I smile, and we catch up on things other than Grayson pms-ing because, he's on his man period.

Natalia has been here for almost an hour and a half before she has to leave. I walk her to the door and we hug good-bye.

"Bye, Nattie." I hug her.

"Bye Jane." She says hugging me tighter we finally let go. She walks outside and into her car. She waves as she drives off. I wave back and then she's out of sight. I turn around and see Grayson standing there. I almost bump into him, but catch myself.

"What am I eating for dinner?" He ask with his usual posture: crossed arms looking down at me because Im 5'5".

"How should I know?" I say with my normal attitude.

"Don't talk to me like that." He snaps. "I will ask again. What am I eating for dinner?"

"Figure it out yourself. Cook something. Go out. Order something. I don't care, just don't bother me about it. You're a big boy, you can do it." I give him a wry smile and head into the living room and sit on the couch.

"You expect me, Grayson Bailey Dolan, to cook something? Well, I never." He scoffs.

"You do realize that this marriage is for us to be more mature and not need our parents for anything? And that we need to stop acting like spoiled little rich kids? Right?" I ask. "Clearly, I am the only one who learned from that lesson."

"If I remember correctly, you were the one who was acting like a spoiled rich kid. I was already mature-"

"Guess again, I was a perfect child, and because of your foolishness you had to give your parents an excuse to get married. My parents thought that I needed to be a little more responsible, so thats why they agreed. So why don't you take your spoiled rich kid ass, away from me."

"Fine. If you think that I am still acting like a 'spoiled little rich kid' when I'm and adult--" I cut him off.

"Hardly. You still call your mom for laundry when the maids aren't around." I say.

"You think you're so funny, don't you?" He says nearing towards me. I stand up, and stand my ground. I won't show him Im weak.

"I would like to think that, yes." I smile proudly.

"Well, you're not. Next time you act up, I will tell your parents about your behavior, and that you keep acting like a bitch. Got that, cunt?" He smirks. I feel tears welling up in my eyes on the verge of falling. Why does he like to bring me down like that? Why does it give him pleasure and amusement to see me in pain. I run off to my, well 'our' I guess, room.

I go to my bed and wrap myself in the covers and cry.

I cry to my hearts content.

I cry till theres nothing more to cry about.

Then cry some more, because I am stuck with the guy for the rest of my life. I had no say in this marriage and he likes to blame it on me. Because my parents thought that I was a little irresponsible, they agreed to the marriage. When I was in my younger teens, I did act like a spoiled child, but I grew out of that stage. Then Grayson comes along and my parents just happened to be friends with his parents. They talked it out, and now we're here.

I hate this.

I, eventually, cried so much I fell asleep.