Jac woke up the next morning expecting to find her fluffy pink bedroom sheets, her forever buzzing iPhones, and her mother bitching on the first floor about Steve not making one of her margaritas correctly. So, she was startled when she sat upright and found herself staring at a Picasso pastel painting in her hotel room.

Groaning from a hang over, Jac rolled over on her side, clumsily pushing a brass knob on the bed end table that was actually  a button for room service.  After ordering a small - fat free- breakfast muffin basket. She stumbled off of the soft comforters of the hotel bed and slipped into her black Jimmy Choos that she had thrown carelessly the night before.

She checked her phone, squinting in the glare of the bright screen, only to see drunken texts from everyone who had attended the party. Yet there were no texts from Damon apologizing for being a jerk - despite the front she'd put on last night, she had been looking foward to some kind of apology.

Then there was five missed calls from Jeffrey Lexington who was probably worried sick about her whearabouts. 'Good,' Jac thought bitterly. 'He deserves it.'

A knock on the door forced Jac's attention away from her phone. Smoothing out the hem of her dress that had been constantly slipping up last night, she opened the door to see Blake Evans holding her muffin basket, wearing the Beverly Wilshire uniform.

"Didn't know you delievered too." Jac said blandly, taking the basket from his hands and observing the delicate baked goods inside. She took in the aroma, realizing just how hungry she was.

"Its my job." Blake shrugged and Jac noted how perfect his blonde spikes were. 'He has to use some kind of gel then.' Blake was nowhere near as buff as the Lacrosse players yet his medium build fit his boyish smile and his mischeivous twinkling brown eyes.

Blake didn't move to leave and Jac sighed. "Yes?"

"You asked about Steve last night," He said. "Why?"

Jac searched her scattered thoughts, trying to remember exactly what she'd said. That was the one thing she loved about hangovers. Sure, they were annoying as hell but at least - if you're lucky - you get to forget all the mistakes you'd made the previous night.

Jac ran a hand through her hair, thinking over the events of the Lexington household before shutting it out again. "It doesn't matter," She decided. After all, nothing was going to reverse what had happened. Her family was torn apart like a dollar bill ripped right through the middle.

Blake rubbed the small stubble on his chin, looking up at the cieling thoughtfully. "I was also up here to tell you - oh yeah, someone named Eve Lexington made a request for a Jacqueline in this room."

"Thats me." Jac sighed. She was not fit to see her mother. She looked like she'd been in a porno of Girls Gone Wild. 

"Jacqueline?"

"I go by Jac." She said quickly, hating how long and proper her full name was.

Blake gave her a smile. "Well, I'm Blake."

"Your name tag makes that clear." Jac replied brusquely and then realized how bitchy that had sounded.

"Well, she's waiting at the pool side bar."

Jac heaved another sigh, trying to balance her muffin basket and iPhone. However, she was far too feeble to do so and just as her phone dropped - Blake caught it reflexively, a wide grin on his face, and handed it to her. "How about I help you with the basket?" He told her, not even waiting for a response as he took the basket from her arms.

Jac realized she had been gaping at his grin and she quickly forced herself into a cool, calm posture. "Thanks, thats what you're supposed to do." 

Blake gave her a puzzled look as they started down the crisp white-gold halls decorated with portraits dated centuries ago and lit by crystal chandliers. Jac spotted Selena Gomez coming out of a hotel room and wondered for a split second where the celebrity's vintage t-shirt came from. 

"What do you mean I'm supposed to?" Blake asked.

Jac only bit her lip. People like her referred to the less fortunate - when it came to money - as peasants, serfs, servants, or even slaves. However, it was always considered rude to say it to their face although people like Erika Felix or her mother, Eve, didn't care.

"Not gonna answer my question then?"

"What is it like to work?" Jac wondered. She knew al about high-paying jobs. Her father was a plastic surgeon - but a wannabe business advertiser - and was the best in the state. Kylie Jenner's amazing plump lips? Her father's work. Yet she was so lost when it came to jobs like - Jac shivered - working as a bell boy at a hotel. 

Blake scoffed. "You're kidding right?"

"No, I'm not, I really want to know."

Blake stared at for only a moment, an unreadable expression on his face. "Its hard but worth it when you can pay the bills." 

They rounded a corner out on to the hotel's pool side patio that covered nearly an acre of the land by itself. 

Soft white and blue fold up chairs were arranged around the wide balcony pool that overlooked the rest of the city. Just near the white french doors that opened into the breath taking view was the bar, made to look like a wannabe Hawaiian paradise. 

Kids splashed around happily in the pure blue pool as their parents lounged on patio chairs or took a seat at the bar. It didn't take long for Jac to spot Eve Lexington sitting in a lounge chair just a few feet away from the pool. The woman wore a white Nordstram floppy fedora hat and an astonishing black striped Kate Spade bikini that made her look like some type of MILF - or an asian Madonna.

Jac turned to Blake as he handed her back her basket. "Thanks, I guess."

Blake pursed his lips thoughtfully before giving a broad smile that reminded Jac of some of the men she'd seen grace Calvin Klein ads. 'Who knew a peasant could be so...cute?'  She thought, forcing back her blush.

"Hey, life sucks and people are shitty, but it gets better." He said.

Jac frowned. "Okay?"

"You look depressed, " Blake grinned. "So I figured you need to hear something like that." 

Jac scoffed. "No, I'm not." However, she was secretly wondering if her misery was that obvious. With dismay, she realized she really was one of those rich girls who had everything in the world but still found a way to be morbid.

'Well not anymore,' She thought determinedly."You should probably get back to work before you, um, lose your only source of income - oh wow, did I really just say that?" She covered her mouth, afraid to look up at Blake's expression.

Fourtanetly, Blake just chuckled. "Ouch, that hurt, but you're right." With a nonchalant smile, he headed through the french doors leading back into the halls, leaving Jac alone to face the dragon lounging like a goddess over the hotel patio.

Eve, who had been wearing Chanel sunglasses, removed them, making her scowl more definent on her face. "First things first-"

"I'm the realest." Jac muttered, collapsing into the lounge chair next to her. The end table between them was covered with evening glasses of margaritas and Jac reached to grab one - and Eve slapped her hand away.

"Shut up, Jacqueline," Eve spat, grabbing one of the glasses and taking a small sip of the alcoholic beverage. "What I was going to say is why on earth do you look like you came out of a porno? You're a valedictorian not a teen porn star."

Jac shrugged, trying with all her might to ignore her throbbing headache. "I don't know."

Eve narrowed her eyes before putting on her sunglasses again. "Well, obviously I'm not going back to your disgusting father so that means-"

"He's not disgusting, mom. Theres nothing wrong with being gay." Jac said quietly, folding her arms across her chest. The only thing wrong with it was the fact that he cheated. She knew her mother was a horrible person but why did he have to cheat? There was a thing called divorce in this country.

"Dammit, Jacqueline, can you stop interrupting me?" Eve cried. "...so that means I'm going to have to get a place and you're moving in with me."

Jac pondered the thought of living with Eve. Her mother was pracitcally Satan's wife - well, ex wife since not even the devil himself would be able to stand her. Eve was self indulgent and hardly ever took her daughter's feelings into account while Jeffrey, although a cheater, cared - or at least Jac thought he had.

At this point, neither Eve nor Jeffrey deserved a 'Parent Of The Year' award.

"Can I think about it?" Jac asked, eyeing the margaritas on the end table with longing.

Eve sniggered. "I don't know why you even need to think."

"Mom, I should be able to choose where I want to-"

"Anyway," Eve said, taking another gulp of her margarita before sitting it down. "Your wretched father needs us to go with him to a business dinner tomorrow and pretend to be a happy family."

"As in pretending you guys are together?"

"I know, I'm just as horrified, darling." Eve smirked and Jac couldn't help but notice how light she was considering everything that had took place. What had happened to the woman who destroyed her wedding ring with a heel? Then again, one thing Jac knew about her mother was that she hated feeling vulnerable.

Eve's smirk fell into a disgusted pout. "Ugh and the dinner is going to be with the Felixs which we all know," She lowered her voice as a group of people she seemed to know passed by. "are the most dysfunctional family in the Elite right now."

Jac's jaw dropped. "Felixs?"

"And you're not allowed to hang out with Damon after," Eve said pointedly. "I forbid it."

Jac settled back in her seat, watching the kids happily splashing around the pool in their designer bathing suits and trunks. "It doesn't matter. We broke up." She murmured bitterly.

"Well, thats great!" Eve exclaimed. "This is probably the best news I've heard all year!"

"Yeah, I know right?" Jac managed glumly and to keep from thinking of him, she thought about the pumps she was dying to buy from Versasce but then remembered she had thrown all of her allowance down the balcony at Brett's party.

"Mom, do you think you can give me more allowance?"

"How much?"

"500 grand?"

Eve scoffed. "No, I told you to stop binge shopping."

Jac let out one of her frustrated screams, startling nearly everyone in sight. However, she could care less. It felt good to scream and throw a tantrum. She wasn't just getting out her frustration on a pair of heels, she was getting out her anger on everything.

When her scream turned into a muffled throaty shriek, Jac sighed.

"You have got to stop doing that, Jac, its absolutely horrifying." Eve exclaimed incredulously , letting her fedora hat cover her face from the watching bystanders.

"I feel much better now." Jac closed her eyes, finally appreciating the rays of sun. She felt more than just better, she felt alive and ready to be Jacqueline Lexington again.

                                                                               ⓇⒾⒸⒽⓀⒾⒹⓈ

 Damon groaned as his phone went off for the tenth time that morning. "Can I answer my fucking phone?" 

THe hillbilly cop, whose name was apparently Officer Hockes - according to his name tag - was sound asleep in his spinning chair. It was all too surreal that he was stuck in the same grey walled jail again with the exact same cop. 

Damon had been studying the prison all night; despising the lack of personality on Hockes' desk and loathing the bars and the painful, hard bed he had to sleep on. He was not a criminal. He was Damon Felix; the heir to millions. He needed to be treated with more respect.

"Hey, wake up!" He shouted now, gripping the bars and once again, trying to pry them apart to no avail. 

Disgruntled - and longing for his black checkered water bed  or even the soft comforter of one of his many Rolls Royce cars - Damon thrust the hard, metal bed against the bars and to his satisfaction, abruptly ended the cop's slumber.

"Now what the hell, boy, I was sleepin'." Hockes shouted angrily, slamming his fist down on his feeble desk.

Damon rolled his eyes, back against the wall of his jail cell. If he heard Hockes pronounce sleeping as 'sleepin' like he had been doing for the past few hours again, he was going to kill himself . "You're sleeping on the job which isn't very professional."

"And what does it matter to you?" He jabbed - and then his eyes found Damon's iPhone 6 sprawled out on his desk under manila folders and meaningless paperwork. "Has your daddy been callin' ya? Wanna get his little rich boy out of prison?"

"Didn't my dad take you out of your penniless misery?" Damon prodded.

Hockes stroked his orange beard that seemed to be growing by the hour before grinning. "Point taken," He got up, grabbed Damon's phone, and handed it to him through the bars. "Tell your old man he should give me double this time."

Damon flipped him the middle finger before answering the phone. "Dad?"

"Dad? This isn't Dad but you can call me Poppa if it makes you feel comfortable."

His hope immediately became non existent. "What do you want Brett?"

"Well......" Brett slurred off into silence, raising Damon's irritation.

"Brett?"

"Uh....I forgot."

Frustrated, Damon hung up. Surely, Matthew knew he was in here. The tow company would have called about his damaged corvette. In the back of his mind, Damon feared Matthew was going to leave him here for good.

"Alright, hand it over." Hockes reached his hand through the bars and it took all of Damon's might to hand over the only communication he had. Once he was out of this mess, he vowed to get a whole phone collection like Jac.

Instead of placing his phone back on the desk, Hockes' wrinkled eyes lit up in mischief. "Hmm...looks like you got some texts here."

"Good to know now put it back." Damon muttered however Hockes didn't even give a glance in his direction as he collapsed back into his chair.

His stubby hands scrolled over the spotless screen as he looked through his contacts. "Whose Jac? Certainly doesn't look like a boy from this picture here." He chuckled menacingly.

"Hey, didn't you hear me?" 

Hockes ignored him, scrolling through more of his contacts before switching to his text messages with a creepy grin on his face. He clicked on each message - and then an even more sinister smile came across his lips. "Don't know where you are bro but come to the party, we got some major Ect-" He gasped fakely. "Ectasy? Are we talking about drug use here because thats another charge."

Damon's hands had balled into fists again and he threw himself against the bars, prying at them with all his strength - but of course they didn't budge. Listening to an old man read text messages that he wouldn't even read in public was not an ordeal he wanted to go through.

"Oh, some girl named Lindsey said; heard you're single now, wanna hang sometime." Hockes recited in a girly, shrill voice. "That was about three hours ago"

"Can you not?"  Damon said through gritted teeth.

"And looks like.....oh." Hockes covered his mouth, a smirk on his bearded face. "I'm assuming you and this Jac girl are way more than friends according to these texts."

"One more message and I'm suing this whole station!" Damon shouted, realizing how much like his father he sounded.

Hockes shot him a firm look but set the phone down just as the office door swung open and in came, Matthew Felix, who might as well have been Jesus Christ as he was practically Damon's savior at this point. 

As usual, he was punctual in a Calvin Klein cream suit and grey Stacy Adams snake and croc loafers. Matthew Felix had an air about him that frightened everyone in sight. Hockes immediately straightened his posture, trying to match the authorative way of Mr. Felix. 

"Hello, Mister Felix, nice to see you again, sir." Hockes said politely, flashing a tentative smile that Matthew didn't return.

"Get my son out of that unsanitary prison please." He replied sternly before taking out his pocket book from the pockets of his trousers.

Hockes cleared his throat, moving to unlock the bars and freeing Damon from the wretched cell. Damon staggered out, feeling as if the air was easier to take in with every minute he was free. He promised himself that the first thing he was going to do was get a good night's sleep in an actual bed.

Matthew handed Hockes a check. "Heres the bail money. Now, I'm assuming you'll need some contact information to notify me of court dates, am I correct?"

Damon gaped. "Court dates?"

"Yes, you're being charged with underage drinking and destruction of city property." Hockes cited authoritatively, not sounding like even a mere country man.

"Do I have to remind you I was in a car accident," Damon barked. "That wasn't my fault-"

"A car accident that was caused due to you choosing to be under the influence." Hockes interrupted, a slight smirk on his face that Mr. Felix didn't seem to detect.

"Un-fucking - believable," Damon cried. 

"Damon," Matthew warned harshly. "Don't say a word." 

So, Damon watched in horror as Matthew gave Officer Hockes his information, promising to follow up on the court dates. He couldn't understand why his father wouldn't just pay off the charges like he had done before. They were rich for crying out loud! They could get away with anything they did - probably even murder.

Once out in the parking lot of the station - Matthew's red Ferrari sticking out among the Toyotas and Chevys - Matthew turned to his son, replacing his glasses with black - rimmed Gucci sunglasses. "I'm done letting you off the hook, Damon, its time you learn the consequences. "

Damon tsked, wanting to say something along the lines, 'Your idea of punishment is beating the crap out of me.I think I know the consequences.' However, he stayed silent as his father lighted a cigarette before getting in his Ferrari and beckoning for Damon to follow.

Damon knew the drill. Once he got in that car, away from all the police station cameras, he was going to get the beating of his life - but he got in anyway because anything was better than a jail cell.

Damon only blandly regarded the clean, black interior of the Ferrari. He didn't care much for Ferraris and rarely ever bought them - he only owned one in his private garage of twelve cars. 

He felt haunted by the silence that followed as they sat in the car, neither making a move or saying a word. So, Damon cleared his throat and spoke, " Sorry about the car, Dad. I just-"

"I don't care," Matthew said flatly, throwing his cigarette out of the car window. " Save the apology for your sister."

Damon opted out of asking how the hell he thought giving a 75, 000 dollar car to Erika was logical.  "Well, then I'm sorry about embarrassing you - again," He paused, waiting to see if Matthew would say anything before continuing. "I screwed up the game, I'm running your name through the mud - I don't know why I keep messing up, Dad, but I do and I'm sorry. So just do whatever you have to do."

Mr. Felix didn't say a word, he only stared out the car window. 

"Dad?"

"I'm not punishing you, Damon." He said.

Damon felt more relief than he had when getting out of the cell. "You're-You're not?"

"You'll get enough of that when the judge decides how many days you'll get in Juvenile Hall." Matthew said simply before starting up the car and turning up the radio, ending the conversation.

Damon could barely contemplate the words; Juvenile Hall. It was a prison where they rounded up all the misfits and forced them to live together. Not to mention the conditions there were more horrid then middle class houses. 

It was no myth when it came to the rumors of how the courts treated rich, wealthy kids. They showed no mercy simply because they were rich. The stories of Jared Hayward,  Beverly Hills' own wealthy  teen drug dealer, and how he'd nearly been given two years in real prison was enough to scare every wealthy teen in the city.

Scrolling through his Facebook feed on his phone, Damon only left one status; RIP Damon Felix. 

He considered himself dead at this point.

                                                                             ⓇⒾⒸⒽⓀⒾⒹⓈ

 "Apparently, Damon is dead." Veronica giggled from across the wide, one acre, Felix dance studio; also known as Erika's favorite place to be. 

The Felix dance studio had been renovated a year ago and updated to clean, Macassar Ebony wood and sleek, shiny windows for walls.  Matthew Felix had recently added a two million dollar piano in the far corner of the studio - that just so happened to be the same piano in Marilyn Monroe's house. However, the real attraction of the studio was the Rinzsound exotic triangular shaped speakers playing Marina and The Diamonds at the upper center of the room.

Veronica, dark brown haired wrappped messily in a bun on her head, sat just a few feet away from Erika on the wooden floor. Makeup, Gucci shopping bags, and low fat cheez-its boxes were sprawled on the floor beside her.

Erika had been performing a jazz dance routine and didn't stop when the girl spoke. She simply kept moving in twirls and twists that would result in major calories burned later.  She leaped into the air and gracefully landed on her feet, facing the front mirrors. 

She frowned at her reflection. To anyone else, she looked perfect. Her wavy auburn hair was flowing locks down her back, her envied figure was elegant in her Illumanti Nike leggings and black Adidas cropped tank top. Even her makeup, despite the hard cardio dance, was still Grammys worthy. 

However, Erika noticed a strand of hair out place -  a strand that she had missed while curling her hair that morning. With a frustrated groan, she moved back to the center of the room.

"Whats wrong with you?" Veronica asked, her eyes still on her phone as she dug her hand into a Cheez-its box.

Erika rolled her eyes, examining the mirror again to make sure her middle parted hair  hadn't been destroyed.  "Nothing." Although that wasn't entirely true.

For once in her perfect, priveleged life, Erika had a problem that was nagging at her - and she hated having issues. She only liked to cause or be the problem. 

Begrudgingly, Erika took out her phone from the small pockets of her leggings and checked every text message she had. As the queen of her kingdom - the school - she had to keep tabs on her subjects.

'Who did Jeremiah hook up with?'

'Benny is a little bitch, Why do you hang out with her?'

'Damon got into a fight at the party! He's so badass! Is he single?'

'Is Damon single now? Please, tell me! I love him!'

Erika was hardly amused by any of the texts.

"I don't know how you can dance after last night," Veronica exclaimed, setting her phone down and pulling out a vintage Celine T-shirt from one of the shopping bags. "I did so much dancing at that party that I still can't breathe."

"Dancing?" Erika slipped her phone back into her pocket.. "Please, you were too busy kissing every male that moved." 

As Erika was about to rewind back the music on the stereo, Griselda - the Felix house maid - came hurrying through the door. She was a heavy, broadset woman from Costa Rica who always fell victim to Erika's ridiculous demands; carrying her to the limo when she was wearing delicate shoes, washing her clothes singlehandely because everyone knew cashmere could be ruined in a dryer, and turning off her bedroom lights every night even though all you had to do was clap them off.

Griselda wore the usual pink, knee-length maid uniform with a look of disdain, the mail tucked under her right arm. "I have some mail for you, Erika." She said in her thick, island accent.

Annoyed, Erika snatched the mail out of her hands. She never had mail. There were always letters for her father about business and requests for Damon wanting him to do highschool sports spotlight interviews.  It seemed the whole world had no taste for Erika.

"You're so stupid," Erika snapped as she skimmed through the mail. "None of these are for me."

Griselda turned pale. "Oh, well I just saw the last name Felix and thought-"

"All of our last names are Felix!" Erika shrieked but then gasped when one particular letter caught her eye.

At that point, Veronica had left her mess on the floor in hopes of witnessing one of Erika Felix's famous tantrums. She covered her mouth in shock when she saw the letter too. "Oh my gosh, is that from Yale?"

 Erika pursed her lips in contempt. In her hands was an enrollment interview request from a Lacrosse scout from Yale - but it was for Damon. Everyone at Alabaster and East Prep had been talking about the scouts that were at the game. However, after Damon's stunt with Connor Royce, she had been positive he wouldn't be getting any letters.

Veronica pulled out another letter from the stack. "And this is from Princeton!"

"Two Ivy League schools want him?" Griselda exclaimed in excitement. "Oh, Mister Felix will be so happy! The man needs some good news! Let me just-"

Erika shoved the woman's stubby hands away from the letters. "I'll take them to him." She said sugar sweetly. "You can go now, Griselda, in fact you're done for the day. Go home."

Yet the woman didn't move, her face contorted into worry. 

"Don't you have kids or something? Go!" Erika snapped again, no longer maintaining her 'American Sweetheart' tone.

With one last look of weariness, Griselda left the girls alone in the extravagant dance studio. Erika could slightly hear her muttering the words,'What is wrong with that girl?' under her breath. 'Whatever,' Erika thought dismissively although that was the same thing she'd heard her mother, Glory, say about her before.

"What are you doing?" Veronica cried. "You have to give them to Damon!"

Erika leaned down on the floor to retrieve her gold-and-black Saint Laurent messenger bag, stuffing the letters into it. "I don't have to do anything." She stood up then, slinging her bag on her shoulder and clapping her hands to dim the lights in the studio.

"You are so evil, Erika." Veronica shook her head although there was a smirk on her face.

Erika only gave her a candy sweet smile as they headed out of the studio and towards the house. However, as they entered the back porch designer patio. Erika stopped at their white Trash-Chic trashcan and dumped the letters into it.

"Goodbye Princeton." She waved triumphantly before putting the lid over the trash. 

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A/N: I'm hating Erika with a passion and I'm the one writing her :p

I'll never stop thanking the people who read this book chapter by chapter because you guys are amazing! Dedicating this one to ElleLeeLove for her support! That message on my board really made my day! Will definetly by dedicating more chapters to others soon!

Make sure to comment and vote! <3