You're the Melody [UNDER MAJOR EDITING]

Renee Graham

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.•♫•♬• ᴡᴇᴅɴᴇsᴅᴀʏ, ᴀᴜɢᴜsᴛ 8 •♬•♫•.

"𝐀𝐑𝐄 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐒𝐇𝐈𝐓𝐓𝐈𝐍𝐆 me right now?!"

"Renee, calm down. You're going to be just fine," my mother, Hermoine, says with the fancy essence she likes to display.

"There's no one around, Hermoine. You can drop the act," I spit, rolling my eyes.

She sends me daggers with her gray-green eyes and walks out as I begin packing. I luckily didn't get her vomit colored eyes. I got my fathers dark brown ones. Most people seem to despise regular brown eyes for reasons I don't quite understand. I'm completely content with mine. I like the way it must be easy to get lost in the galaxy of them.

I'm not a narcissist, though. I don't spend twenty hours staring at myself in the mirror and I don't hog the bathroom for another four to get ready. I just understand that I'm not ugly and that even if I was, why would I feel the need to change it? After all, I could just sue my greedy, arrogant parents.

My father, Quentin Graham, owns a major business that he doesn't like to speak of with me. Even after eighteen years I'm still treated as nothing more than a child. At least I'm not a self-centered asshole like him, or a witch like my mother.

So when I found out that I could move all the way from California to Pennsylvania for college, I felt the leash I had on loosen. But only in the slightest.

I also thought, Hermoine and Quen can suck my fat dick.

I grew up in England for most of my life, but I'm not British, not in the least. My father's from there so after my mother gave birth to me in New York, since she's from the Bronx, my father took us back to London, England; which is his home.

I could swear to god that my mother was much cooler when she lived in the poverty of the Bronx. I guess my father saved her from it and decided to marry her and make her some sort of work accomplice.

She was probably also his quick fuck every time he needed one, no doubt.

I don't blame my mother for trying to weasel her way out of that place, especially if it was as easy as only needing to have sex with a guy and tell him how good he is in bed, even if it's a total lie. She could never look me straight in the eye and tell me Quen makes her orgasm. Moreover, my father has been rich since the day he left the womb, so it makes complete sense if my mom's a gold digger.