They were born to survive along with each other in a world filled with glitz and glamour.
Their whole lives have been watched, judged and envied, yet their close-knit group have survived through the worst of the worst.
But with Lust, Love, Betrayal...
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I know that you're wrong for me Gonna wish we never met on the day I leave I brought you down to your knees 'Cause they say that misery loves company It's not your fault I ruin everything And it's not your fault I can't be what you need Baby, angels like you can't fly down hell with me
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Please listen to: Angels Like You by Miley Cyrus so that the emotions of the chapter may be passed on to the reader.
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Two figures who's bodies intertwined intimately found a solace silence between the two of them as they entered the back seat of their limousines.
Without any words between them, the married pair sat beside one another, each at a different window of the car.
Their hands intertwined and laid out on the middle seat that separated them. A slight distance from each of their bodies.
The heiress laid her face out as the night sky greeted a cold yet loving welcome to her gaze.
The flicking colors of lights flashing as the vehicle passed through roads provided as a distraction for her to avoid speaking about what had happened.
Kim Jisoo didn't know what to say. She has always known that her friends had always been more complex, quick witted and proud than she was.
It was what she loved about them. It was what had made each and everyone of them stand out above the rest.
But as she analysed them carefully, thinking thoughtfully of the traits, the gorgeous lady realised how much flawed they were.
The bigger and more extrvagant their personality was, the smaller and flawed they saw themselves.
For people who seemed to own the world, they were the ones who had the least of everything.
With the lack of love, passion, purity, they made up for wealthy, popularity and power.
But what was power and the world if sincerity and affection did not exist. It was as if having an expensive couture dress on a mannequin. No soul, no emotion. Simply lifeless and breathtaking.
Because in the reality of the world? Nothing was ever truly perfect nor beautiful. Something that was wasn't humane nor living. Only materialistic things were exquisite without any scratches.
The elites were living proofs of it. Deep down, if each of the eight had been asked to choose between being wealthy and unhappy or unfortunate but happy, they'd choose the latter in a heartbeat.
