The Billionaire's Hair

O2: Typical High School Stuff

It had been a week since Ernest Michaelson, aged 56 and 21 days, recently retired had taken it as his and his children's responsibility as considerate citizens to rescue a visually impaired cat. And it had been exactly six days since the Michaelson household woke up to the cat spirited away without a trace. It was mainly marked by a rude, nonchalant comment by Karen, a wailing sob from Tiffany, River and Chelsea (except, one of them was faking, maybe two). Ernest was slightly disappointed as he had been hoping to spend his time playing caretaker for the animal, because, as it turns out; retirement comes with the side effect of having absolutely nothing to do.

Moving on from the unfortunate situation of the cat, Ernest still hasn't got around to figuring out who exactly the homeless looking man he met earlier was. He must remember to ask the kids about him at lunch today. He unfolds the newspaper with a sigh and begins to read when he hears a rhythmic drumming noise coming from nearby. It's probably River, he thinks and shouts up the stairs for him to stop making the noise and shouldn't he be in school.

His shouts go unnoticed as the only resident in the 2nd floor wakes up from a peaceful slumber, putting her hair in a messy bun and getting dressed for the day.

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Chelsea hums softly as she walks up the driveway to the Michaelson house, when she suddenly hears the sound of a distant beat. She furrows her eyebrows and turns to the direction in which it came from.

There, in the middle of the garden, next to a patch of flowers, where five youngish men (or oldish teenagers, does it really make a difference?), sat banging garden instruments on huge trash bins. They seemed to be singing a generic overused pop song, Chelsea could make out some of the lyrics as baby, come be in my life girl and na, na, na, na and also na.

Rich people, she thinks, you never know what strange hobby they've taken up now. She decides that due to the lack of time and refusal to participate in weird rich people rituals, that she would not investigate further.

Chelsea likes to think that she is prepared for anything which is why she is not at all thrown off course when a boy wearing a leather jacket, walks out the door as though aiming to hit her in the face with his chest.

She recognizes him as the object of Tiffany's desires and she swerves to avoid him and wrinkles her nose when she catches a faint scent of what seemed to be some sort of representation for manly men colognes.

Cigarettes and also, were those cloves?

Unfortunately before she could pursue this very fascinating thought process any further, the boy (Tyson she thinks? Taylor?), smirks at her and bounds away as though off to save a damsel in distress which is offering free teeth whitening as reward for her rescue.

Chelsea frowns at him before turning around and proceeding to walk through their custom made real gold door (which thankfully Tyson/Taylor had left open so one less thing to worry about). She ignores the cursing and the fervent cries of but what do I drink now? I've never drunk anything else! from the kitchen as she walks past it before settling on the couch.