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Fair play

Chapter Text

It's funny how hierarchy works. At the bottom of the pyramid are the poor, the ones who exist only to clean your house, and sometimes make the streets ugly, and at the top are you and your people: the owners of the world. People who always appear on tabloids and gossip blogs, the ones everyone wants to be like.

The billionaires.

You're the sole daughter of the owner of a famous corporation who made its name by investing hard in the automotive area. You have your own apartment in one of the fanciest building in the best neighborhood. Fast service, no burglars, and specially: no scum. All this garbage can stay far away from you, preferably around the other side of the city. But of course you know you still need to have a few of them around, to be your maids, your waiters, your servants... Just like this store attendant who’s been looking at you for a while, smiling.

"This dress looks absolutely stunning on your body, miss ______!"

"Of course it does!" The owner of the store is there too, of course. You're too important for her to not go there kiss your feet. "Everything we have is practically made for miss _______'s body, she's like a model!"

You just keep smiling to yourself while looking in the mirror. You really look stunning, like always. Your mother raised you to have the perfect body, combined with a gorgeous face and the hair that every lower class peasant girl wants to have, but can't.

The flattery of the store's owner is getting old already, she always say those things, but it's not like it's a lie anyway, so whatever. She keeps looking at you, expectantly. You know she wants to know if you're going to buy or not. It's really important to her to have you buying in her store, and you know this brings people who want to be like you right to the front door, so of course it's a big deal.

It’s already decided that you'll buy it, but of course you pretend to be still thinking about it, just to torture her. Let her look at your body a bit more, both of them, actually. Let them envy everything you are and that they'll never be. People who say that love is the best feeling in the world clearly never had all the women around envying them. Now, that's the best feeling.

You wish you could prolong that moment, but you really have to go. You have to meet your friends. Today you’ll finally go to The Whisper again; one of the fanciest nightclubs around, where there’s no risk of bumping into any plebs.

You don’t even turn around, just look at the two women in the mirror and nod. The owner prompts the attendant to go prepare your stuff, while you enter the fitting room to change back to your clothes. You’ll certainly use this one tonight and make all those bitch friends of yours envious. well, they already are, anyway. Friendship is really something...nice.

You don’t even need to go to the cashier to pay, nor get the dress now, they’ll just deliver it to your home later and charge directly from your bank account. Easy, simple, good for your nails and perfect.

Everything is how you like, nothing could be better in this royal life of yours.

When you walk to the door, with both the owner and the attendant already there, ready to say the customary stuff as you leave, you have a sight of something weird at the other side of the street: a human sized yellow lizard walking around, looking at stores.

The corner of your mouth immediately contorts into an expression of scorn. Without even noticing, you whisper with hate, while observing.


These non-human creatures showed up from the underground around a year before. Everything was perfect, everyone knew their places, and one day they just appeared and started demanding rights, a place in your society, houses and stuff. This ended up causing a turmoil in the bottom of the pyramid, making people from slums and these undignified places believe they can actually have something too. Poor people, allied with monsters, having their rallies in front of your buildings and offices, asking for their taxes to be readjusted, demanding that you share your space with them, etc.

How disgusting.

“Ah, there have been monsters around this area lately, miss.” The young attendant informs you, smiling sincerely, not really catching your mood. “It’s a nice change of view!”

You turn your face to her, glaring into her eyes, the obvious expression of disgust on your face making her shiver, realizing her mistake immediately.

“A nice change of view, you say? Why? Are you unsatisfied with the normal view? Does the streets’ normal appearance bother you? Maybe you should just go back to the place where you came from, I’m sure you enjoy that way more.”

You walk back to your car, not really paying attention to whatever apology words she tries to use when you finish spitting words at her. The first thing you think is that maybe it’s a good idea to try to run over the monster with your car, but that would ruin the pretty painting, and probably also your night since they would want to take you to the police station. Not that it would be a problem, of course you’d walk away free in less than an hour with all your powerful lawyers, but it’s better save that for another day. Today, you just want to have fun.

After getting home, you just walk straight to the bathroom, where one of the maids already prepared the bathtub with your customary oils and essences. This always make you feel better, and it was all you needed to clean that monster from your mind.

When you leave the bathroom, your new dress is already on your bed, ready to be used. You smile; such efficiency! You take your time fixing your hair and putting on make up, and refusing to leave before looking fabulous. When you finish, you take a few pictures and post them on your instagram, for all your fans to see. You can see that your friend, Lauren, also posted hers. Looks nice, but not as much as yours, of course.

You send her a message saying you’re ready and going, and she says she’s also leaving, and will meet you at the door of the club. You call one of your chauffeurs to drive you there so you can drink like crazy without worrying about driving back.

There’s a giant line in front of the door, full of common, ugly people that would die to have the right to enter and get close to you. You spot Lauren as soon as you get there.

“_____! Hiiiii!” She waves at you, trying to look delicate and excited at the same time, that actually is something you do, but naturally. It’s funny how much this bitch wants to look like you, but that’s understandable, right? Who wouldn’t?

“Laureeen!” You wave back, and walk to her. The two of you give fake kisses in the air, so you don’t need to touch and ruin your perfect make up, and walk together to the door, ignoring the line. Of course the security interrupt the line and stop everything to let you two in. Everyone knows who you are. You hear girls in the line making fangirl squeals, and someone says “____, I follow your instagram!!!” It’s great to be you.

The two of you enter the club and go straight to the VIP tables on the second floor. Of course there are VIPs even amongst the riches, how else would you tell apart people who only owned one or two boats from the ones who actually have a real castle in their names, like you? What would your fans think if you ended up being seen on the same floor as someone who never attended a party with the president’s daughters, or dressed better than them? Outrageous!

You sit at your table, that actually has your name and was customized with your favorite color: gold, and your trustworth waitress are already there, ready to serve you. You requested strictly that the girls attending you wear skirts, you hate woman who use pants, that is men stuff, and that’s not the kind of person you want around you, let alone touching your food.

You and Lauren chose what you’ll both have, and the waitress leaves to get it. Up there you can see everything, from the bar to the dance floor, and inspect everyone.
Lauren, however, always likes to go down there and have her fun. ‘That’s why she’ll never be as dignified as me,’ you think. You don’t really go there to dance, mostly to sit around and enjoy looking at pretty, rich people. Feels like you’re a princess.

She asks you if you’re going too, and of course you’re not, so she just shrugs and leaves you alone. When inspecting people down there becomes boring, you lean on the couch and open your phone to check social media. More than 2k likes on your picture, of course, and you smirk, since Lauren only got around 1600. You finish looking at it and goes back to inspect down stairs, when you spot something odd: someone wearing a skeleton shirt? Is that what you’re seeing? You can see ribs and this person wearing a mask too? What?

The lights may be confusing you a bit, so you actually get up to look at the person, still not really understanding what you’re seeing. You motion to your waitress to get close and points to the person.

“Say, what’s with that person there? You’re allowing people in costumes here now?”

“No, miss, that’s a skeleton monster.”

You feel a discomfort inside. You want to puke just by hearing that. The waitress keeps going.

“Mr. G is a customary client of ours, he started showing up a while after the last time you came here last time, miss.”

You want to scream. To call the owner, whom of course you have the personal number in your contacts, and tell him to send this monster away right now.

Instead, might be funny to play a bit with him, since he’s already there, ready to take your blows, you just need to go and do the work.


You found a new toy.