Kaden Graham Harrison.
His world is home to billionaires, future presidents, models and children of diplomats.
People who had the power to rule the world before they were even born. He can buy himself everything with the snap of his fingers.
Booze...
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Kaden leads me far away from the others, opening the door for me so I can step inside first. We are in a bedroom but it is less personal than a freshly cleaned hotel room. Nothing is out of place, no photos, no memories, nothing. Not even decoration that would stand for personality.
"This is my room if I sleep over at Harvey's." He explains, his voice ruff. "You have your own room at your friend's?" Of course, he does.
"Sure, he is my best friend. He has two at my place... I am even more generous than him. I let my guests have a choice." He explains, a proud grin on his face.
Sure... He opens a light brown wooden door and shows me to walk in. He is so... different. Why is he so shy... so quiet?
"You can wash yourself. There are fresh towels and everything you could need. I can give you perfume if you cannot get the smell of the booze out of your nose. I will bring you something to wear."
Before I can reply he is out, closing the door behind me. I am scared he will come back while I am still getting out of my clothes so I immediately get rid of my pants. From the fast undressing, the realization of how much alcohol I drank comes. My head starts spinning a little bit and I have to take a deep breath before I can continue. I am utterly thankful that at least my shirt wasn't harmed because I really don't want to stand in front of him in only a towel.
And it is hella cold in here so every layer I remove is torture. I hate that I am so sensitive to low temperatures, that only a little change can lead to my limbs and bones tormenting me. The pain I endure when I forget to wear gloves in winter or when I wash my hands with too cold water. I hate this illness. I hate having rheumatoid arthritis more than anything in the world. It's number 2 on my enemies list, right after depression. The pain my brain causes me is still the worst of them all.
As I wrap one of those warm towels around my bottom half to cover my legs I hear a knock on the door.
"Ally, I am here with some stuff. Can I come in?" "Yeah, sure," I say, my body feeling extremely light and carefree.
I let my gaze fall over his face and tall frame. His normally perfectly styled her out of place, those sharp cheekbones, his shirt that makes him look incredibly expensive.
