Page 3 of Nightmare

Summer has always been driven, crazy, bold, loud. She isn’t afraid of anything. Tell her she can’t do something, and she’ll show you that she can master it quicker than you, while balancing on one foot and kicking ass in a debate. She’s brilliant, she’s caring, she’s exceptional.

She’s passionate about following her father into the family business.

Corporate law.

She’s got the mouth for it, that’s for sure. The drive, the attitude, the strength. And I support her. I never resented the lifestyle; I just didn’t want to take that path. Her parents support her too. They’re a couple of thealrightones in this cult culture. Theymostlyjust want her to be happy.

I’m passionate, sure, but I’m not driven. I’m fine to ride the wave and go with the current as long as possible. I indulge to test myself, to see if I really am as stone inside as my parents wanted me raised to be.

Never care, because nothing lasts forever, Olivia. No one will be there at the end of the day but yourself.

Wise words from my father on my thirteenth birthday that were supposed to carry me through life.

Summer got through my cracks. She shrunk herself down, shoved herself inside of me and super glued herself to my organs until I ran out of strength trying to shake her off. And no matter what, she’s stayed. She showed me love when I never knew it, she showed me family when I was alone, she supports me and pushes me, destined to break me free from the mold.

She’s passion, fire, and wildness all wrapped into a 120 lb. firecracker. She’s charisma and grace, spark and sass. She’s going to do amazing things.

I’ll be by her side, quiet and molded to be her lifetime friend that has her back no matter what.

Chapter Two

Olivia

The car slows,pulling into a large structure in the middle of the elite cluster of high rises where Summer lives, so I finally sit back up to peek out the window and see how everything looks.

It’s flashy, as expected, concrete and black accents with chromes and bright lights to illuminate the rows of Benzes and Tesla’s that probably haven’t moved in weeks.

Once the car rolls to a stop, I look at Summer who’s perched on the edge of her seat scrolling through her phone. “I can’t wait to see the inside of this place.”

She snorts, “Oh, it’s something,” Her eyes cut to me, “Extravagant and unnecessary for a couple of people who travel year-round.”

I laugh, because she has a point, her parents are rarely here, and from the looks of it this is a huge upgrade from their last home.

I swing my legs out as I push my door open, stretching my limbs and tossing my Prada across my body before I move around the back to get my luggage.

The driver meets me, Summer behind him still scrolling her phone, and he opens the trunk to pull out my bags.

“Thank you.”

He nods in answer before slipping back to the front of the car getting in, peeling back out the way we came.

“Alright.” I take a breath, then start heading towards the large lobby that sits at the edge of the parking garage. Pulling my luggage behind me, I push open the all-glass doors back into air conditioning, Summer following close behind.

Summer punches the code into the large chrome keypad at the edge of the elevator doors, and theydingas they slide open automatically.

All mirrored walls welcome us in, making me come face to face with my reflection for the first time since this morning.

By the time the doors slide closed again and we start moving up, I’m assessing every single thing about my appearance. Big green eyes stare back at me, dark hair cascades down my back in waves that were full curls when I got on the plane this morning. My dress is short and loose, perfect for the heat and a day of traveling.

Summer stands next to me in a pale pink hoodie and short, fraying shorts, her eyes meet mine and she smiles. “I’m so glad you’re home.”

Her blue eyes search my face, her blonde locks a perfect opposite to my black ones. Like Yin and Yang, we stand staring at each other. Dark and light. Night and day.

“Me too, Summer.”

The elevator comes to a stop at the penthouse, the doors sliding open, and my mouth gapes as I step into the lavish sitting room, all black and white with hints of reds throughout the room. Everything is in its place, clean and crisp. The air is cool and smells like fresh cotton.

The white and black speckled marble floors lead us to an open concept kitchen that continues the theme of lights and darks with blood red specks scattered around.

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