the new york elites

reunited

I woke up to Luca Kingsley, my annoyingly perfect twin slapping me across the face. "ari, wake the fuck up, we are gonna miss the flight" he screeched before giggling at my messy hair. "Luca chill, we own the plane remember?" I hissed back before grabbing my phone and checking my socials. "Yea but we don't own mum and dad and they'll be pissed if we are late Adrianna" he mumbled just loud enough for me to hear him. He was serious about this too since he used my full name. Adrianna. Adrianna Kingsley, the one and only, New York's 'golden girl', worlds youngest supermodel. I was far from perfect, quite the opposite actually.

Luca. Luca Kingsley. New York's 'golden boy'. How original. Luca, unlike me was actually pretty close to fitting the paparazzi's labels, though, he's done his fair share of crazy things.

Our parents. Clifford and Maria Kingsley, madly in love, perfect parents, humble and charitable people. Now, some of that was a lie, they are madly in love and very charitable people, but my mother is the only 'perfect' parent. My father, Clifford...let's just say on the daddy front, I have more issues that vogue. That's a big statement considering even the elites themselves are on a few covers of vogue magazines. My older brother, William Kingsley, my role model, new york's 'poster boy'. He was the heir to the business and I was certain he would do a good job at taking over.

The elites. 3 girls, 3 boys. My brother and I. Olivia Sinclair and Daphne Mendez. They are New York's 'bombshells', my childhood best friends, we are your typical mean girls clichè, without the mean. Rory Lennox, New York's 'brains', the over protective brother I didn't ask for, but am utterly grateful for. Elijah Saint Laurent, New York's 'bad boy', devilishly handsome, my childhood crush, and one of my best friends. That's the elites, 6 attractive teens, none of us heirs to our family's billion dollar business as each of us have older siblings, meaning, we have nothing to live up to, no rules, no worries, and lots of money to spend.

There used to be 7 elites. Hayden. Hayden Scott, my abusive ex boyfriend, the boys ex best friend, New York's 'biggest player' the one and only heir to 'Scott and co. Incorporation.' Currently in juvie for dealing drugs, of course, the press would never find out about this as his father paid them off. Typical.

"okay Luca, I'll meet you in the kitchen when I'm ready", i huffed, dragging my slippers across the bedroom and bathroom floor, locking the door behind me. 20 minutes later, i was done. I was wearing, a black Chanel jumpsuit and put on some light makeup that persisted of mascara and concealer. We arrived at the airport boarded the jet and flew to London.

The plane journey was long and boring, I ended up falling asleep and waking up just before landing. Luca and I stepped off the plane breathing in the fresh, slightly polluted London air. Jerry, our driver opened the door to the range rover and immediately drove off to avoid any paparazzi that had already located us. "i'm sick of them you know Luca" i sighed before removing my sunglasses. "that makes two of us sis" he hissed. After a short journey to Kingsley Manor, located in central London, Luca and I, entered the living room, and there, were our parents, patiently waiting for there children to return. "My darlings, welcome back!!" my mother smiled softly before embracing us both into a long hug. "Hi mom" i chuckled before returning with the same enthusiasm. My mother and my brother said hello to each other and i walked over to my father. "er..h..hello dad" i mumbled nervously. "good to see you Adrianna, how was the flight". "It was good dad, how are you" i stiffly replied. Everything about the conversation with my father never felt awkward but almost forced. Although, less forced than usual, we have been working on our relationship for a while.