Way Down We Go

Chapter Five

Our months in Europe were fruitful and successful. We couldn't walk a street without somebody wanting a picture and couldn't finish a week without another project being done. I had done small cameos in some European television shows, seventeen to be exact, had finished writing and recording my next album, finished roles in three mainstream movies, released my next surge of makeup and merch and had done intelligent business moves all whilst having a girls trip with my girls. We were happy and successful in our attempt to have fun and celebrated my nineteenth birthday in the beautiful snow covered Swiss Mountains, before flying back to our homes.

After my jet had landed, I sent it into its own home, not intending to travel for a while, before seeing the girls into their rental cars and picking up my own Chrom Gold Maserati GranCabrio from one of my staff, placing my bags inside and going over towards my full yet empty home.

They would be staying with my for a few weeks, due to family not being home as they were on their own vacations. We had driven to the large castle and I had placed my car into its proper place in the garage, allowing them to place their on the spare garage, before we slowly went into our respective bedrooms and turned in for the night.

Home Sweet Home

A few weeks later, I casually brushed my fingers across the cold gold of one of my favoured motorbikes, a gift from one of the companies I had endourced on social media. As I owned a significant amount of mountain areas around my fortress, including forest areas and rural patches, I had used my slight 'dare devil' antics to my advantage. One of my favoured escapism methods was riding one of my four motorcycles or four wheelers. I explored the grounds and jumped the large hills, giving me a glimpse of freedom from the busy schedule I now called my own.

With my new album going on sale any day now, a few movies set to release in the imminent future and my companies doing as well as they could be, my days were as busy as ever. So, since I had a rare free afternoon and night on a rapidly colding January day, I decided to make the most of it.

Getting on my favoured golden bike, I pulled on the black and gold helmet and some knee and elbow pads, slipping on the bike and turning on the engine, hearing it's lion like roar.

Grinning a little, I drove out of the wing and onto my personal playground, riding around for hours, occasionally popping out of the trees as I had drove up and jumped off a particularly large hill. I sighed blissfully.

A little bit of freedom.

Later, in my grand library, I sat reading the comments of the documentary in an overstuffed chair in front of the roaring fireplace with a cup of hot tea in my hand. It was comforting, being in the soft chair in comfy clothing just getting a few minutes of respite. I'd been really busy with interviews and long days after my few months in Europe and although my brothers managed the businesses well, there were still a lot of things to be done.

After 'Crown of Thorns' had been published, I had revealed my struggles over the past years, mainly my parents' unorthodox removal from my life, my regenerations over my childhood and adolescence, my sexual assaults and deep depression to the world, before this documentary, named My Secret World, had revealed my relapse and struggles, although as far as the public knew, my facades over the past few months had been real, like my 'relationship' and being completely healed from my relapse.

"Mari!" A voice called. I looked up from the tablet in my hands and over to Brie, who rushed into the library.

"What's up?"

"I've gotten an insane email."

"What is it?"

"It's about your old family, the Valois-Angoulême/Medici clan." she answered. I frowned. I hadn't had contact with the Valois-Angoulême/Medici clan for years, not one word since I was fourteen. It had been five years.