- for the girl who got her dream. tell me, is it everything you imagined?

✰ ✰ ✰

OCTOBER 16, 2018
4:06 PM

I did the photoshoot for Oceanside Wear a couple days ago and they just sent me the photos, so as I was waiting in Chris' office for him I posted the pictures.

I had been busy all week with shoots. I wanted to put it all on hold because of Tallula, but she insisted that we follow through with all our projects. We wanted to be with her a lot the first week. Cam was going to ask for a week off and Kalia was one call away from telling her agent to cancel everything, but Tallula wasn't going for it. She didn't want us to put everything on hold for her, so we went to work and took turns looking after her. We did, however, all constantly text no matter who's turn it was.

bad bitches only🥂
iMessage
Tuesday, October 16
4:08 PM

tallula🛍
cam's mom
makes THE BEST
cupcakes omg

cam📷
my mom keeps
feeding her things

try her cake!
that shit is like an
orgasm in ur mouth.

tallula🛍
it's official.
cake is next on
the list.

Tallula was doing much better. She was bright and bubbly again, although sometimes she would get this far away look in her and kind of zone out, but after a few moments she'd perk back up and return to her normal self. We all found nearby therapists and met with them once a week. Tallula met hers on Wednesdays, Kalia on Thursdays, Cam on Fridays and me on Tuesdays - today. I was going to see mine after my meeting with Chris.

We didn't get to know what was said in each others sessions unless we ourselves told each other what we talked about, which none of us really did. We just started confronting our shit and we weren't at the level of having to go through it twice a day - one was enough for now. The only thing we knew about Tallula's sessions is that her therapist put her on antidepressants, which like I said, seemed to be working.

A lot David's victims from DNA and from the city reached out to her after the video and they all were planning to create some kind of safe space thing they went to once a week. We all were happy Tallula was taking the initiative to do this and use her platform for some good. Plus, it gave her something to focus her attention on which was good. We didn't want her getting too into her head, which was bound to happen if she had nothing to distract her.

She wasn't planning on returning to the runway for a couple more weeks and Victoria Secret was more than okay with giving her the time off. The fashion show wasn't until November 8th and Tallula told them she'd work extra hard when she got back to catch up with what she missed during rehearsals. They were fine with it, but Kalia is convinced it was just because they didn't want the backlash, not because they really cared.

tallula🛍
OH MY GOD
we were at the
bodega and i saw
mona's mans!
cam pointed him out
to me and RAMONA
HE IS SO FINE

kalia🎤
SHE'S RIGHT
HE IS

cam, why the hell
would u do that?

cam📷
we were just in the chip
aisle and he and sad eyes
walked in so i tapped tallula
and told her who he was.

please tell me
u didn't say anything to him.

tallulla🛍
nope!

good.

tallula🛍
not until he talked
to me first...

TALLULA

tallula🛍
what?? he saw
us and walked over!
he recognized me and asked
how i was doing because
he heard what happened.
he's very sweet, ya know.
not the kind of cholo
i was expecting tbh

u should've seen him
two months ago. u
would think differently.

kalia🎤
what happened two
months ago?

he was just...
different.

tallula🛍
well, he asked about you.
he wanted to know
how you were doing.

and what did u say?

tallula🛍
that you were doing
great and then we left.
it's not his business
anymore.

thank u.

cam📷
hellooooo
what happened to
confronting our shit?
the thing you guys dragged
me to therapy for?

we've only been
to our therapists once!
i'll get there.

kalia🎤
can you also
talk to her about
your need to dye your
hair every time you go
through something?

tallula🛍
hey, i like the blue!

kalia🎤
oh, me too. she
looks like a badass
bitch but u got to admit..
it's not an effective
way to deal with traumatic
events

well, ruby is very
happy about my hair
so i don't care what
u hoes gotta say

"Ramona!" Chris' voice sounded and I looked up to see him walking into his office, shutting the door behind him. He walked over to his chair and situated himself. I locked my phone, tucking it under my leg. "So sorry I'm late. Talia got gum stuck in her hair and it was a whole situation."

I laughed, imagining Talia with a wad of gum in her hair. I missed her and her little attitude. "It's okay. How is she?"

"Well, when I left she was sobbing because we had to cut a chunk of her hair out of her head, so I would say - not good," he answered, pulling a file from his drawer.

"Yikes," I tsked. "Let me guess, Jimena was laughing at her?"

"Holding her stomach, tears coming out of her eyes and all."

"Yep, I figured," I shrugged, a small smile on my lips.

He opened his file and began flipping through the pages. I lifted up to peek at it, but all I saw was my headshot. The rest just looked like mumbo jumbo to me. Lots of numbers, names and upside down words.

"Listen, I know you said you wanted to wait a few more months to do a magazine spread, but I got an email from the editor-in-chief of Vogue and they want you to be on this month's cover," he informed me, looking up at me.

"Vogue?" I asked, not believing his words. "Like the Vogue?"

"Yes, the Vogue, Mona," he chuckled.

"And you're serious? They want me on the cover?" I had to ask again because I genuinely couldn't believe it.

"Yes, they want you on the cover and to do a small interview with you that will be featured inside. Maybe five to ten questions, nothing too major," he informed me. "They contacted me with this offer a week ago, but with everything that happened I had to put it off. They need this photoshoot and interview done as soon as possible so they can hurry and put it together and release this month's issue, so if you say yes then you would be doing this tomorrow."

"Do you think I should do it?" I asked. I valued Chris' opinion and he had been doing this a long time, so I trusted him and his decisions.

He pursed his lips before slowly nodding. "Yes, I do," he replied, honestly. He took a breath and sat back in his large chair, stroking his scruff. "I know you think you haven't progressed in your career enough for this, but you have, Ramona. You're almost at a million followers on Instagram and at five hundred thousand on Twitter. I get hundreds of emails a day from companies who want your face on and wearing their products. You've made it, Ramona. You got your dream. Now, you have to take it and never let go and this cover will do that for you."

Hearing his words brought tears to my eyes and instead of pushing them down I let them flow. My therapist told me it was good to cry when I wanted to cry. Holding the tears back was apparently bad for my health because it only heightened whatever emotion I was feeling and not in a good way. Crying helped release tension and stress. In her words, "It frees you, Ramona."

He noticed the tears escaping my eyes and quickly handed me a box of tissues. I took it and pulled a few out, dabbing my eyes with the paper. "I'm very proud of you, Ramona. I want you to know that. I can barely recognize the girl that walked into my office for the first time in August. You've grown so much."

"I don't know why you're so proud," I sniffled, shaking my head. "Thousands of those followers only found me because of Kalia and Tallula. I didn't earn them all on my own. I basically used their names."

"Thousands of famous people used other people's names to get in. Kim Kardashian used a sex tape, Jaden Smith used his father. That's what this business is about, but don't discredit yourself. You're talented, Ramona," he said, seriously. "And you're gorgeous and when you do that interview tomorrow, they're going to ask about you. Not Kalia or Tallula - just you."

"You really think that?" I asked, a light smile falling onto my lips.

"I know that," he answered. "You would've made it this far and even further without Kalia or Tallula. They just sped it all up for you."

I still didn't believe him, but I let it go. It didn't matter how I got here. All that mattered was that I was here now. I deserved this. Who cares if I didn't work as hard as I thought I was gonna have to? I was becoming a household name and I was getting paid. This is what I wanted and I wasn't letting it go.

"Okay, I'll do it," I nodded and a giant smile spread onto his face.

"Great! I'll call them and let them know," he said, pulling a packet out of the folder and sliding it over to me. "Read over it and sign."

I did as he said. I read over the terms and agreements. Everything looked good to me, so I signed. I handed him back the packet and he placed it back into the file, sliding it back in the drawer. After he closed the drawer, he turned to me, leaning on the desk and folding his hands together.

"How are you, Ramona?" he asked, sincerely.

He's been doing this every time I saw him now. He knew about the therapy and now that he knew about what happened he wanted to check in on me and well, all of his clients really. He apologized so many times about David and not knowing. I could tell what happened to us weighed heavy on him. He felt guilty that he wasn't more attentive.

The fam, Trevor and Shay felt the same way. When I told everyone the truth they were mad at first, but it wasn't like David was around to take their anger out on, so they went straight to apologizing and feeling guilty for not paying more attention to me. Especially Shay since she was the acting mother. After a couple days things were back to normal with them and they went back to treating me the same, but now they were always asking me how I was. It was kind of annoying, but if it made them feel better it was whatever.

"I've been good," I answered, softly. "I have my second therapy session today."

"Dr. Madden, right?"

I nodded. "Yeah, but she makes me call her Theresa. She said it's good to be on a first names basis because it 'creates a personal bond and when you feel the relationship is personal you feel more comfortable talking about things and just sharing information about yourself in general'," I quoted, using airquotes.

"Is she right?" he questioned, intrigued.

I shrugged. "I don't know. I hope she is, though."

'Cause I got a lot of shit I need to confront.

✰ ✰ ✰

OCTOBER 16, 2018
6:31 PM

"How are you doing today, Ramona?" Theresa asked me from her wide, dark blue, plush chair.

"I'm good.... I'm better?" I guessed, my voice tense.

I was sitting on the brown couch right across from her chair. A small coffee table sat between us and two cups of water sat on top of it. The walls were tan with various paintings of flowers and sunsets hanging on them.

Her desk was in the corner of the room by the door. Shelves and bookcases filled with books were pushed against the walls where any space allowed for it. A large window was on my left hand side. It was dark by now, so the only light we had were the various lamps around the room, setting a warm glow on everything.

"Good guess," Theresa laughed and I watched as she opened her notepad and began writing something down. That shit made me so nervous. What the hell is this hoe writing about me? "So did you want to continue our discussion about your mother from last week?"

I rubbed the back of my neck, awkwardly. "Oh, um no. I wanted to talk about something - someone - else, actually."

"Go ahead," she waved for me to start.

I sighed. "Tallula told me that she and Cam saw Oscar today and he... he asked about me," I told her and she raised her eyebrows.

"And that makes you feel...?" she dragged out, waiting for me to finish the sentence.

"Hopeful?" I guessed again. I shook my head, sitting up straight. "I-I don't know. I just didn't think he'd be asking about me."

"You haven't spoken to him since the beginning of September. That's well over a month of no communication. Wouldn't it make sense he was asking about you?" she wondered, tilting her head to the side.

"I just didn't think he cared."

"That last night you two spoke, is that what he said?" she questioned. "That he didn't care?"

No. He said the exact opposite, actually.

"No," I shook my head. "But he said he didn't wanna be with me. That I shouldn't wanna be with him, either. That he wasn't a good guy."

"And he's not," Theresa commented and I looked up at her, shocked. "He choked you and that's inexcusable. But none of that stops you from wanting to be with him, does it?"

I ripped my gaze from her and looked down, disappointed in myself. "No, it doesn't."

"And why is that?" she asked.

I shrugged, looking back up. "He was my first love. He was there for me after my mom died. I don't think I would've got through it if it wasn't for him. I guess I'm still holding onto that."

"Do you think you cling to him because he's the leader of the gang that is the rival of the one that killed your mother?" she suggested.

I met her eyes again, taken aback by how right she might be. The only reason Oscar and I even began talking was because he had to tell me the Prophets were the ones who killed my mom. After that conversation, we developed an entire relationship. I clung to him because he was the enemy of my enemy. The enemy of my enemy is my friend.

"I never thought of it like that," I breathed, still shook by the realization.

"That's what I'm here for, Ramona. Not to tell you what to do. If you want to leave here right now and call him, then I can't say anything against it. It's your choice," she declared, setting her pad onto the table and leaning back into her chair once more, crossing her legs. "My job is to be a listening ear - to uncover what's buried beneath. Once we dig that up, it can very well be an explanation to an unresolved issue you have with the people around you or maybe even yourself. I can give you advice on how to handle a problem in what I think is the healthiest way, but when you leave this room, it's on you on how you deal with the things we talk about in here. And when you come in next week, you'll tell me how you dealt with it or how you didn't. Either it helped your situation or it didn't and then we'll talk about that."

"So do you think the healthiest option is to call him?" I asked.

She looked at me for a moment before a small smile appeared on her lips. "Oscar is a giant chapter in your life. Maybe even a few chapters and I think the healthiest option for you right now is to go to his house and speak to him. It's very clear neither of you have any kind of closure and closure is necessary to end anything - to end any act."

"What if I go over there for closure and it just starts an entirely new book?" I inquired, still unsure of what to do.

"Then we have something else to talk about next week," she smiled and I laughed. I reached out and picked up the cup from the table, taking a few sips before setting it back down on the coaster. She picked up her notepad once more and began writing. Once she was finished she looked back up. "Now, last session you said Oscar went to prison for four years for drugs?"

I nodded. "Yeah. It was originally supposed to be twelve, but he got out early on good behavior."

"And in those four years, you waited for him to get out? You even took care of his little brother?" she asked, inquisitively.

"Yeah, for the first year. I even went to visit him, but one day one of the Santos told me that the gang would look after Cesar from now on," I answered, remembering the day Vulture blocked me from entering the Diaz household.

"And what did Oscar say about it?"

"Not much. He just said it was better for him. He didn't talk to me much after that. When I went to visit him he was standoffish, like he didn't want me there. He wasn't interested in anything I had to say. He stopped replying to my letters."

"Did he ever tell you why?"

"No," I rasped, the memory getting to me. "I just assumed he fell out of love with me. That prison made him realize it."

"He's still asking about you, so I highly doubt that's true," she chuckled. "Do you think there may have been an underlying force that caused him to act that way towards you?" My silence gave away my answer and she continued, "Whenever you go get your closure, I'd ask him about that because something isn't adding up."

She began to write again and I looked down at the floor, completely puzzled. What underlying force could've caused Oscar to cut me off like that? It couldn't have been any of the Santos - they all liked me. At least, I was under the impression they all did.

"Now, Ramona. Regardless of his cold shoulder, you waited for him to get out, correct?" she asked and I nodded. "Why is that? Why not leave him alone after he treated you that way?"

"When we were young, a little after we began dating, we promised each other we'd reach our dreams together. Part of his was that he was with me and we were happy," I reminisced, thinking of the letter. I felt tears drop from my eyes and I wiped them away. I swallowed before starting again. "I thought that when he got out he would still want that. The entire time he was there I was working towards mine and when he got out I thought he would start working towards his... but he didn't."

"Are you sure he's not working on his behind closed doors? I mean, he is the leader of a gang. If they knew he was working on trying to leave it could cause many problems," she tried to reason.

"I'm sure. He would at least tell me. He just focuses on his gang and running them. I was working so hard trying to become famous and he wasn't working hard at anything but trying to hurt me - physically and emotionally," I confided. The silent tears were still streaming. "I got it - my dream. That's what Chris told me today. Vogue wants to put me on the cover. I've officially 'made it'" I said, using air quotes. "But I was supposed to make it with Oscar and knowing he's still in Freeridge gulping forties all day and getting into shoot outs with Prophets while I'm spending nights in penthouses and getting treated like royalty on photoshoot sets I don't know..... it just makes me... sad. I can't really enjoy my success knowing that he didn't reach his dream."

"Guilt," she stated and I looked at her confused.

"What do you mean?"

"Guilt," she restated, closing her notepad. "You feel guilty because you got your dream and he didn't. You see him sitting in front of his small house like he has for years and doing what he has for years. He's stuck in his life and you feel guilty because you weren't stuck in yours."

"It's not that. I don't feel guilty. I feel," I paused trying to find the correct word. "Disappointed. I feel disappointed because after he got out of prison he just... gave up."

She sighed. "Ramona, you must understand something. It's his fault he gave up on his dream. He wanted to stay with his gang. He wanted to stay in Freeridge. No matter how many letters you write together or how many dreams you share with one another, nothing happens unless you make it happen. You worked hard and got yours and he stuck to what he knew. I know you wanted him to grow and make progress along with you, but sometimes, if you wait for people to change, you'd die before you see them be anything else than what they are."

  ✰ ✰ ✰

OCTOBER 17, 2018
2:22 PM

"Now, Ramona," the interviewer, Carol, began. Her phone sat on the table between us as she talked so she could listen to it later and put our conversation in the magazine. "You seem to have popped up overnight. In just three months you've almost reached a million followers on Instagram and half of that on Twitter. Your face is all around Los Angeles and in magazines. I've even seen you as an extra on a show or two and you're hanging out with Hollywood's finest and still, we seem to not know anything about you other than you're from Freeridge. I think I speak for thousands of people when I ask 'what's your story'? How did you get so far so quickly?"

I smiled, making sure to keep my posture, the interview coaching Chris made me attend before I came here still in my mind. "Well, like you said I was born and raised in Freeridge. And ever since I was like ten my dream was to be famous. Over the last few years I've been working really hard to become a model - sending headshots out to agencies and that kind of thing. It wasn't until July when my little sister gave me the idea of making an Instagram and getting followers that way since so many people nowadays get famous from social media that things started picking up for me. The, a month or so later I was connected with Chris and he found me my first modeling gig and it just kind of went up from there," I laughed.

This was so weird. I felt like I was being interrogated. I never had a one on one interview like this before. This was going to take awhile for me to get used to - I could tell.

"That's amazing. Do you have any role models that you look to and shape yourself after?" she asked, looking at me with her bright blue eyes.

"Um, probably my mother," I answered, honestly. "She's not with me anymore, but she was such an amazing light in my life. Since I was little I've always aspired to be like her. She was kind and loving and gentle. I'm still working on that, but I like to think I'm making progress. I actually kind of did all of this just to make her proud. She inspires me the most."

She put her hand on her heart as she smiled, "Now that is so sweet. I know she's very proud of you," she replied, sincerely.

"Thanks."

"Now many people seem to be referring to you as Hollywood's 'breath of fresh air' because you stand out from many of the main girls on the scene right now. What do you think about that given title that the tabloids and entertainment outlets seem to be clinging to?"

"I don't know how to take it, honestly. I don't see how I stand out. I just post selfies and tweet stupid stuff like everyone else. But I'm glad I do stand out to people. It's always good to stand out from the crowd, right?"

"Oh, absolutely it is," she nodded. "Let me see. Just hold on a second," she put me on hold as she began flipping through her notepad. I was getting real tired of these damn notepads. And how in the hell does she work for Vogue and she isn't prepared?

"Yeah, sure," I nodded, watching as she was still flipping.

I tore my brown eyes away from her and looked around the room. I was at Vogue's Los Angeles branch since their headquarters was in New York City and they couldn't fly me out in time. It was an office building and it kind of reminded me of DNA, but it was way more all over the place. The room I was in alone had pin boards filled with articles and pictures. Piles of magazines were everywhere. Previous Vogue covers were framed on the wall. I glanced around at all the faces I recognized: Rihanna, Beyonce, Ariana Grande, Jennifer Lopez. I still couldn't believe I was going to be on the same magazine as them. Will they frame my cover and hang it up, too?

"Okay, here we go! You ready?" Carol spoke up, flipping her long blonde hair over her shoulder and repositioning herself in her seat.

I nodded, looking back at her. "Yep."

"Okay, so obviously your career has just started, but if you were to look at yourself one year from now, what is it that you have hoped to achieve? You're amazing in pictorials, do you think you'd ever level up to the runway?" she questioned, excitedly.

I laughed and shook my head. "Nah, runways aren't really my thing. I feel much more comfortable in front of a camera. However, I do wish to experiment with other things. Maybe acting? Who knows what the future holds?"

"I'm sure we'd all love to see you on the big screen," she replied, looking down at her paper for the next question and back up. "Now, with your newfound success I know you've been making lots of money with the endorsements and projects you've been busy with. Has any of that money gone towards any homes outside of Freeridge or luxury cars?"

I had to think about it for moment. I had been making so much money, but I hadn't bought anything important. When people get money, especially people from the hood, the first thing they do is move out or buy a foreign car, but I hadn't even thought about doing anything like that.

"Oh, um, no, it hasn't actually," I admitted, clearing my throat. "I've bought a lot of outfits and things like that, but nothing big. I guess I just wasn't really thinking about it."

"That's very sweet that you remain so humble," she smiled. "Okay, one more question." Thank God. "We can see your work life is quite bountiful, but is it the same for your personal life? Is there any handsome suitor that you're keeping away from the public eye?"

I opened my mouth to answer, but nothing came out. I instantly shut it and the gears in my head began to quickly turn as I thought it over. There wasn't a suitor. Oscar and I weren't together and I definitely wasn't looking at anyone else. I shut the gears off and took a breath before answering, "No, no hidden man. If I had one you all would know, trust me."

Carol laughed and nodded her head before reaching over and stopping the recording. She closed her notepad and stood up. I mimicked her actions, sticking my hands in my pockets as I stood. She grabbed her phone before walking towards the door. She looked back at me, "See? I told you it'd be quick and easy. You did good for you first interview, by the way."

"Thanks," I gave her a weak smile as I followed her out.

"Now it's time for the photoshoot!" she exclaimed, excitedly as she took me to my dressing room. She leaned over to me and whispered, "I personally think it's the best part."

✰ ✰ ✰

OCTOBER 22, 2018
7:43 PM

I walked inside of the dimly lit house. I already knew Zahra wasn't here. She was supposedly out helping Jamal with some kind of puzzle. Rollerland or something like that - she was talking really fast. I shuffled to my room and cut my light on, taking off my biking jacket and setting my stuff down.

"You're back," I heard Shay's voice chime.

I turned to her and laughed before twirling my body back around and walking over to put my phone on the charger. "Yeah, finally," I sighed, plugging it in. I sat down on the edge of my bed and began picking at my split ends.

"So," she dragged out, expectantly as she walked up and sat next to me.

"So what?" I smirked, looking over at her.

"Oh, come on," she rolled her eyes, slanting her head to the side lightly. "You just got back from doing an interview and photoshoot for Vogue and you have nothing to say?"

I sighed, looking down at my hands. "It's not that I don't have anything to say. It was... awesome," I sighed, contently as I thought about how amazing the experience was. "It's just the interviewer asked me some questions that now has me all in my head."

"What did that cracker say?" she questioned, crossing her arms.

I chuckled, but the smile left my lips as quickly as it came and I became serious again. My eyes slowly met Shay's. "Do you think I should move out?" I asked, uncertain on what do.

Shay's eyes widened and tore her gaze away from me and stared ahead as she thought it over for a few moments. "Do you want to move out?" she queried, glancing back to me.

I didn't want to leave. I loved Freeridge. I loved the people in Freeridge. I used to dream about a giant villa like Chris' or even a modern penthouse in the heart of LA like Tallula had, but now that I finally had to means to pay for one of those places I had no desire to. I wanted to stay with my family.

I used to hate being here. I hated the gangs and the gunshots and the lockdowns, but thinking about one day buying a home where I couldn't walk down the street and see the Santos messing around on Oscar's front lawn or Jamal and Ruby hanging on Ruby's porch pretending to drink forties or even Jasmine walking around and butting into everyone's business made me sad.

And thinking about leaving Zahra after all these years nearly brought me to tears. She just started high school and I didn't want to leave her alone without my guidance during this important chapter of her life. Who was she gonna go to when she needed a dress for her next high school dance or when she got her first boyfriend? She needed me here.

I knew one day I would have to move out, but one day wasn't today. This place was my home and I wasn't ready to leave it yet.

"No," I shook my head. "I don't want to leave. I want to stay a little longer if that's okay?"

Shay smiled as she grabbed my hand and looked me in the eye. "Listen to me, Ramona. I married Trevor twenty years ago and we bought this home four months after our wedding. Then we had Zahra six years later, but understand this," she let go of my hand and rested her palm comfortingly against my cheek. Her eyes were glossy and full of love as she finished her statement. "We were never a family until you showed up. You made our home complete, Ramona. The way you view Zahra as your sister, we view you as our daughter. I'm sorry your mother had to pass away for you to join us, but I wouldn't change a thing and I'm glad you want to stay. Without you, this house would be missing that one piece that finished the puzzle - the one that completed it."

My mouth tasted salty and it wasn't until then I realized I was crying. I didn't say anything to her. I was too busy being emotional to form a coherent sentence. Instead, I brought my arms around her and squeezed her tightly. She wrapped her arms around my waist and rubbed my back up and down comfortingly as I sobbed into her shoulder. "Th-Thank you, Shay," I cried.

Shay had been such a light in my life. She gave me food, shelter, advice and comfort when I needed it most. I owed her everything.

She pulled back and slid her thumbs across my cheeks, wiping my tears. "There's no need to thank me, Ramona."

"There is, though," I protested. "You took me in after my mom died when you didn't need to, but you knew I had nowhere else to go but the foster care system and you stepped up. Then, you dealt with my attitude and my heartbreaks and my silent treatments and so much more and you never complained. Like ever."

"That's what mothers do, Ramona," she said. She grabbed my hand again. "And I know your mother would be extremely proud of you."

I could feel the tears stream again and I wiped them away before sliding my hands out of her grip. I turned slightly and reached over to my bedside table for the rectangle shaped piece of paper. I picked it up and handed her the check for one-hundred thousand dollars. "Here. I know no amount will every be enough to repay what you've done for it, but I wanted to give you something as a thank you."

Shay looked down at the check wide eyed and her mouth hanging open. She shook her head and pushed it away before standing up. "No. No, I'm not taking that," she refused, spinning around to face me again.

I stood up and walked up to her. "I want you to have this. You haven't asked me for anything the entire time I've lived here. You even gave me a job at your salon when I asked. And I know you've known I've been making a lot of money and you still didn't ask for anything. You were just happy for me. You take care of everyone and never ask for anything in return. You deserve this money. Please take it," I begged.

She stared at me, thinking it over in her head. After a few seconds passed she sighed and held her hand out. I sat the check in her palm and she closed it into her fist, dropping her arm by her side. "You know, you really don't have to do this. You know that right?" she asked, giving me a sincere look.

I nodded, smiling. "I know."

She sighed before engulfing me in another hug. After a few seconds I pulled away and sat back down and she sat next to me again. She stared down at the check in her hands for awhile before turning to me "Just out of curiosity, how much money do you have?" she questioned, raising an eyebrow at me.

"A lot," I emphasized because it was in fact a lot.

"How much is a lot?"

"You want exact numbers?" I asked and she nodded. "As of right now, one million one hundred and three dollars. Oh, and eighty two cents."

Her eyes widened and her mouth dropped open.

"YOU'RE A DAMN MILLIONAIRE!" she screamed and I laughed.

"I KNOW. IT'S FUCKING CRAZY!" I yelled, still not believing it myself.

"How in the hell do you have that much money? It's only been three months," she questioned, .

"Now that my name is out there and I've established a following Chris makes sure I get paid at least twenty thousand for each modeling job I have. Plus, he has me endorsing certain products on my social media now, so that brings in a lot of money, too."

"I cannot believe I have a literal millionaire living under my roof," she said in awe.

"I can't believe it, either."

"You think one day you'll be like Beyonce?" she asked.

I shook my head. "Definitely not. No one can be like Beyonce."

She thought about for a moment before shrugging. "You right."

-

∰

ramona really out here on the cover of vogue and she a whole millionaire. my girl has officially made it. how proud of her are u guys?

that convo she had with shay really had me tearing up. she's like mom 2.0 for her.

would u rather ramona stay in freeridge or move out and get a better house? are u happy she's staying or do u think it's time for her to go?

do u agree with ramona when she said she's basically used tallula and kalia's name to get famous?

how do u feel about ramona going to therapy? do u guys like theresa so far?

also, as i was writing this i realized this was the first time i even mentioned jasmine & the first & only time ur ever gonna see her is in the last chapter for the quince... oops. i'll be sure to put more of her in the second part lmaoo

↓ me snatching the fuck outta that check if ramona was giving it to me ↓

↓ me sprinkling lil bits and pieces of oscar throughout the chapters until we get to the good shit ↓