Power. Money. Appearances. They are everything. All that matters is being on top, and you don’t get there by playing nice. You play dirty and trample over others. You deceive.
Anything else is a sign of weakness. And rich people can’t show any weakness.
That was what my parents had taught me, and that was what I tried to uphold when I bullied Zach Curtis in my freshman year of high school three years ago.
I had to show everyone I was at the top of the food chain and what I said went, ignoring my inner voice that told me I was wrong or my feelings for him.
For months, I humiliated him in the worst ways, until the day I inadvertently caused an incident that left him with a burn scar.
He never got to hear how sorry I was because he disappeared shortly after, and I never saw him again.
But now he’s back, and he wants revenge.
He doesn’t care that I regret what happened, and he refuses to listen to reason. He won’t stop, no matter how much I try to plead with him. Not until he sees me ruined.
Not until he gets “justice.” He says that monsters breed monsters. And I’m afraid I might learn exactly how true that is.
