The President's Son

The Ballad Of Mona Lisa

This is just a short filler because I haven't been updating since forever.

Song on the side is The Ballad of Mona Lisa by Panic! at the Disco

Chapter 4

"Ok Rose. Breathe, just fucking breathe. Yeah, I was in the devil's lair, but I'm alive right? I'm sure it's nothing, thousands of girls wake up in the President's home, jump out of a window, and have no remorse of what happened the last night. This is perfectly normal." I mumbled quietly to myself.

I walked down the black, bricked pavement, yes talking to myself, but at least it was a rerasonable conversation. The wind was blowing its harshest breeze, and I, without the warmth of a sweater, was basically frozen in place. People gave me pityful glances while they pushed their blanketed children in strollers. Couples were being all romantic and gushy on a nearby bench next to an old man who was snoring with his face in the newspaper. I looked over to see a little girl screaming over a fallen lollipop, while her parents struggled to calm her down.

I had to get out of here. Away from the flags, and especially the presidents. Even though there was only one. Attention was always the last thing I ever needed, but of course, it always came whether I liked it or not. I would crack open a soda in the cafeteria, and people would either turn to the sound, or ask if I had another.

Believe it or not, I forced myself to actually climb the gate. Which was damn near impossible to do with the security cameras right up my ass. The only area that didn't, surprisingly, have a camera stationed was near the left corner or the building. The one with the trees.

I turned and gave one last shivering glance to the building behind me, and quickly walked away. I didn't want to be here. No, I wanted to be home, away from Chad, my father, but just a place that I could call home.

My hands were becoming fiercely numb so I stuffed them in the given warmth of my jean pockets. There was a lot of paper inside that immediately caught my attention. I wobbled over to a nearby cafe that was closed, and plopped down on a chair that was convinently attached to a table.

Slowly, I pulled out the wads of folded paper, and gasped as I flipped through it. It was money! Lots of money. The bunch of stack of money was as thick as a book that I would never read. And they were all hundred dollar bills. I grinned happily at the round man on the bill and took my time counting, and recounting them. F-five thousand fucking dollars?

"Ok Rose, you've been through a lot lately, but when was the last time you ever robbed a bank, prostituted, gambled, or mugged an old chick?" I asked myself while trying to regain my sanity.

I struggled to replay the occurences of last night's events, but everthing was a blur, everything but me being kicked out, Chad cheating on me, and Chad trying to kill me and trashing my baby- I mean bike.

Where did I sleep?

The big house.

What did I eat?

Probably a strangers dick.

Who did I meet?

Now that was a good question. Who did I meet? I was wairing the same clothes of yesterday so...holy fuck the walk of shame. Did I sleep with the President? Was I the next Monroe? No way. Besides, the room was really small.

But he could've left you in there after he was finished with you.

"But the house, it seemed so quiet, and empty," I said, ignoring the glances from strangers. They probably thought I was some cracked up junkie who just won the lottery.

Maybe he ditched you for a presidential meeting at a corprate office.

"Maybe I need mental therapy. But therapist's are bad. It says so in their title. The-Rapist."

Maybe I should quit talking to myself and find a real friend.

While I was skimming through the cash, I came across a white piece of paper shoved between the bills. I pulled it out of the stack. There was some writing on it. Well not some, a lot. It was folded into fours.

I hesitantly unfolded the paper and began to read it, hoping it would give me back my forgotten memories.

Hey Rose, I don't know if you remember me, but I just wanted you to know that I had fun with you yesterday. Im not gonna say last night because it will probably lead you on to thinking that we slept together. Well we didn't so there is no need to freak out around town thinking of a whole list of random strangers and bars. Yes, you did get crazy wasted, and that was my fault, and I am genuinly sorry about that. We were just having a little fun, and you were really depressed so I thought a little buzz would help.

Im pretty sure you noticed the money I left for you. I heard you talking about how you got kicked out and blah blah blah so I wanted to help you out a bit. Hopefully the money can buy a little while at a hotel and some good food, decent clothes, luggage, and whatever a girl can possibly want with five grand. Don't worry about paying me back. You don't have to. Just think of it as a gift for-oh well whatever you want.

I still have your phone number, remember when you gave it to me? You probably don't. You looked so hesitant. But its ok just don't have a cow if you get a call, I put my number in your phone just in case if you don't mind. I didn't know if it would be considered intruding, or being friendly. Call me when some time, we can hang out.

God I'm starting to sound like some random creep off the streets. Maybe, if you want to meet some time again, we can try to find a place for you to get settled. Well, yeah that's pretty much it. Oh! Take off the case on your phone, the pin number is 6942. Stay beautiful Rose.

-Connor

I smiled at the nicely written note. I really do want to meet him again. Maybe this time I'll be sober enough to actually Remember his face.

Connor. Connor. Connor! I remember now! Connor, the boy who listened to all my problems and gave his share of pity. The boy who was beyond sexy.

I read the note over again and my hand zoomed to my back pocket. I felt the smooth rubber case graze my skin and pullled it out. The phone was warm in my hands, but I struggled to resist the urge to run it against my face.

I took a deep assuring breathe before I put the silicon case between my nails, and peeled it off. A card fell out, and another folded note from Conner. I pulled apart the slip of paper and queitly read the few words aloud.

Don't worry about the bill -Connor

I picked up the card that fell onto the ground, and flipped it over. It was a credit card. I smiled slightly when I saw Connor's first and last name scrawled onto the back of it in a neat, lady-like cursive writing. Going back to Connor's first note, I copied the pin number into my phone, and said it about eleventy times before it stuck.

The wind was begining to blow a much harsher wind, and I had goosebumps all over my arms, and apparently on my teeth. I glued my mouth shut so they wouldn't chatter, but it was no use. Connor was right, the money could pay for a little while in a hotel, but maybe more in a motel. And that's where I ventured off to, or at least searched for.

The streets were so crowded with cars and cabs, the sidewalks were covered wih people in warm, fuzzy coats, some with coffees, others with strollers that held babies, some with designer handbags. Most land had been erased and replaced with tall buildings, factories, shops and restaurants.

The sky, was now a gloomy dark gray that scared me to pieces. It looked as if it were to rain, and that was something that I was indeed not fitted for.

I walked around and down the streets in my T-shirt, struggling hard not to clutch my shoulders and freeze right in front of the poor old lady that waddled slowly behind me. I toughened up, and walked as straight as I dared, but not too straight, I didn't want to look like some weird soldier.

The wind now nipped at my shoulders, but soon enough, the cold wind felt like a weak fan against my numb body. I wanted to know how long I would be on the streets living in a motel off of room service and luggage.