Spoiled Rich's eyes pinched shut with faint irritation. The stark light of morning was filtering through the blinds and directly into her eyes. A groan emerged in the back of her throat and she started to shift faintly. One arm slinked up from under the thin silken sheet bunched around her naked body. She was half-temped to kick it off already, knowing that the heat of Florida's morning would not spare them. Instead, she maneuvered her arm just enough to grope around for the burly body next to her. When she felt a massive, masculine shoulder, she decided that was good enough, and sank her long, pointed nails into the bare skin there.
"Tirek," she hissed. "Get the air conditioner on. Now. And close those fucking blinds while you're at it."
There was a brief guttural cough next to her — the startled kind — and then the hand slapped her own away.
She winced, letting out a shrill noise. As she pulled her arm back over to her side of the bed, she held it as though nursing a wound that wasn't there. "Well?" she demanded. "Are you going to get up?"
"Fine." The single-word response was uttered by a harsh, gravelly voice from someone who sounded as though they hadn't slept at all. However, Spoiled knew better. This wasn't her first time in Tirek's bed, even if she didn't usually stay overnight. He always sounded that way — and she liked it.
Spoiled felt the form of the brawny man next to her stir. He was never one to hide his motions. They were as forceful, deliberate, and without grace as he was. She greedily snatched up the thin covers when he tossed them away from his body and lumbered out of the bed. In doing so, she felt the rest of the blankets bunched into a mess at their feet and the great bedframe rattle.
Once he had lumbered off into the dark hallway of the house and closed the bedroom door behind him, Spoiled shimmied into a wakeful state. She sat up and reached up to touch her hair. The tacky, upper-class layered bob was the only thing particularly maternal about her, and it was mussed from sleep and last night's activities. The rest of the room was still mostly dark, and Tirek's interior design taste was ridiculously spartan. The only thing on the nightstand next to her side of the bed was an ashtray and a thin layer of dust. He had only gotten the former at her insistence too; Tirek preferred cigars, when he could afford them.
There was a sound in the hallway — one need only to speak of the devil, and he would appear. Tirek lumbered back into the room. His whole frame blocked the first light of dawn from illuminating anything in the hallway. Then, he flicked on the light, causing Spoiled to hiss like a witch with a whole bathtub of water thrown at her.
"No complaining," he rumbled. "I don't want to hear it this early."
Spoiled let out a faint sound of disdain, but the sound of an air conditioner's fan whirring to life elsewhere in the house drowned it out.
He moved slowly over to the window and Spoiled finally got a good look at her paramour under the harshness of the light above them. He had pulled on a discarded pair of boxers sometime after slipping out of bed. Otherwise, he had no other clothes to speak of. It allowed Spoiled to see the numerous tattoos all over his upper body. Tirek was built as wide and powerful as a bull, but he branded himself like a gangster. Only, there were no images celebrating heritage or a heart for his mother or grandmother. Instead, Tirek was covered in symbols as angry as he was — dragons, red bulls, barbed wire, skulls, jewels, crowns, and more. Two long-barreled guns that Spoiled couldn't name were crossed in an X on his back. However, they were crossed with old scars and something new. Thin rivulets of blood had trickled down from the numerous scratches that Spoiled Rich made last night.
The sight made Spoiled smirk faintly. Filthy always covered up the marks that she made on him — which, of course, were from a very different breed of violence. Tirek showed little care about being marked when she dug her nails as deeply into him as possible. Everywhere on his back bore some trace of those fresh marks over the ropes of old scars. Only his thick, inked neck was spared.
When the blinds were closed, Tirek turned around. His dark and deep-set eyes stared at her with a suspicious squint. Under his left eye, the tattooed outlines of a few teardrops creased.
At first, Spoiled wasn't sure whether he was waiting for her to speak or if he was staring at her bare breasts. She wasn't one to cover herself with a blanket — modesty was never on her mind, and she wasn't about to reach down and grab where the fabric had pulled across her hips.
"Headache?" he prompted eventually.
Spoiled's usual frown emerged once more, even though she was used to him being far from elegant in the mornings. Just as she did so, a dull pain pierced her head.
"Ugh," she groaned. "Yes."
Tirek exhaled deeply in a way that bordered on a snort, which caused his large nose ring to sway. "That's what I thought," he grumbled.
Spoiled flashed one of her wicked, snake-like smiles. It was so nice to be known. But there was something even nicer than just being thought of.
"That chardonnay from last night — I need more of it. Now," she said impatiently. "Before this fucking thing gets worse."
"You know, if you stopped drinking this early—"
"Enough!" she shrieked. "Don't you dare sound like Filthy with me! You're the one who made your house into a personal winery because this is something we love—" She spat out that ugly, loathed, and oh-so-meaningless word, "—so I don't want to hear any back talk from you!"
The last part was something that she constantly had to say to her nasty little bitch of a daughter, who was always quick to trouble poor, poor Spoiled Rich.
Tirek shot her a threatening look but said nothing. He knew that if he wanted to take something out on her, he could do it in the bedroom, which was how they both liked it. And if something wasn't the brand of cruelty that he could take out on her, there was always the fucking hooker he kept seeing — the meth monster that looked like some hideous bug-woman dragged straight out of the Everglades. Spoiled always struggled to remember what her name was, even though they had met multiple times.
Instead, Tirek scratched his beard and walked with quick, tense anger over toward the door.
"Oh, and hand me my purse, while you're at it," Spoiled snapped.
As soon as he reached the armchair next to the window, he scooped her purse up and threw it straight into her lap. She knew better than to protest, even though she loathed to see one of her designer bags treated like her daughter's things.
Being obeyed was what was superior to being thought of. She could at least take satisfaction from that.
When Tirek flung the door open with a slam, he let it stay open. For Spoiled Rich, this was enough of an invitation to climb out of bed. She needed a shower. Before she left the bedroom, she fished around her purse for what she would need afterward. A pack of cigarettes, her lighter, and her makeup found their way onto the sheets. She left her favorite gold necklace inside, where it no doubt had migrated to the bottom with her much-despised wedding ring. While Filthy Rich rarely bothered to wear his own, Spoiled Rich liked to wear hers for the sake of keeping up appearances. Not only was it expensive, but she was also the leader of Canterly's Moms for Decency chapter and the head of Canterlot High's school board. She wasn't about to risk that position — which was how she got Tirek to agree to let her park her Range Rover in his garage every time she drove it over.
...
Tirek wasn't Spoiled Rich's only Ashleigh Maredison hookup, but he was her favorite, and thus her most frequent. Not only was he the best in bed, but he was the most accommodating of them all too. The last person that she had seen, a man by the name of Flam, hadn't allowed her to use his bathroom at all. It forced her to time their hookups in the most inconvenient ways and no doubt was the cause of some of the extra gray hairs that Spoiled found on her head in the months before she ended that affair. Anyone who didn't ensure that she was, well, spoiled wasn't doing their best.
Tirek was certainly her most interesting partner to date. He was a convicted felon, but she didn't see a reason to think twice about that. Her initial worry was that it would mean he wouldn't have a nice enough place for her to show up to. Thankfully, she was proven wrong. Tirek owned a sensible single-family, one-story house in a sprawling suburb that was crowded with more retirees than families — or foreigners — which was just as Spoiled Rich liked things. He even had an above-ground pool, which was very much appreciated by Spoiled during the dog days of summer.
The downside was that he didn't have a bathtub. Instead of the long soaks and luxurious bubble baths that Spoiled Rich would get to have at her estate, she had to make do with hot showers. Still, the pros of her time with Tirek outweighed the cons, and most of the time, she was pleased to not have to complain about those factors.
By the time Spoiled Rich got out of the shower, all the hot water had been used and the mirror was fogged up. There was nothing worse than having to do her makeup in a foggy mirror — except maybe Diamond Tiara — which was why Spoiled was always careful to tuck one of her extra compact mirrors into her purse.
Using a towel, she blotted the mirror until she could get a good look at her body. She had wrapped her magenta hair up in a towel but had yet to wrap the rest of her body in order to dry off. She tsked at the sight of the wrinkles under her eyes. Even though Tirek was into mature and experienced women, Spoiled couldn't deny that she was well overdue for another cheek lift. Something about her nose just wasn't looking right either. Not only was she sure that it was starting to slump down instead of being tilted upward the way she needed it to be, but it lacked the proper sharpness that her last rhinoplasty promised.
Thankfully, the rest of Spoiled's body was much to her liking. Her naturally pear-shaped body looked even better complimented by the perfect pair of breast implants. Her grayish-pink skin was offset by numerous marks from last night's escapades. Both of her wrists bore a faint purple bruise from the handcuffs that Tirek had put on her for last night's second round. On her chest and neck were the marks from where she had begged him to bite her.
Tirek was violent and domineering in the ways she craved, intertwining violence with her desire to have her brains fucked out. Filthy Rich only ever lashed out at her non-sexually, and only after years of pushing him. She had made that man into a wreck, but Tirek was the type of monster that she wanted. For goodness' sake, she and Filthy hadn't even slept in the same bedroom since shortly after her brat was born.
Thank goodness the grandparents of that brat didn't believe in divorce, otherwise who knew what Filthy Rich might have done with her by now? It almost certainly would mean that she wouldn't get to have her fun or sculpt herself into the pinnacle of beauty.
...
Spoiled Rich sat on the edge of Tirek's bed. In the bright, artificial light from overhead, she focused on applying a thick layer of lipstick. She had slipped back into her stockings, pencil skirt, and blouse. Her favorite, gleaming golden belt was cinched around her waist. However, her jacket was tossed across the bedroom's chair. On the nightstand, a large wineglass was empty.
After she finished, she kept her compact open long enough to clip her favorite necklace on before slipping the former away. Spoiled withdrew a cigarette from its pack, flicked her lighter to life with her red-painted nails, then took a long drag. Everything else went back into her purse before she entered the living room.
Tirek's living room and kitchen were connected, as his house had no proper dining room. What it did have was a bar counter vaguely dividing the two and close to the glass doors that led out to the deck. That was where Spoiled Rich decided to seat herself, since she had no trust for Tirek's couch, and not simply because it was secondhand. She set her purse on top of the marvel and peered over at the television.
The wide screen was blaring the morning's sports programs. On the lumpy, rather cramped couch, was Tirek. He was so massive that he took up most of the space available. On the squat, stained little coffee table in front of him was a breakfast tray, which he was greedily stuffing his face from. On it was an opened can of beer and a plate with eggs, bacon, half-burnt hash browns, and a rather limp mishmash of vegetables soaking in butter and bacon grease.
Unfortunately, cooking was not one of Tirek's skills — and it wasn't one of Spoiled's either, which was why she had Randolph to feed her family. Otherwise, Diamond Tiara would have starved a long time ago. Under the smell of dish soap, beer, and food, Spoiled keenly picked up on the scent of ointment. Tirek had slipped his usual wifebeater shirt on, and what looked like small patches of moisture were forming on the back, which he was carefully not letting touch the couch's fabric. Someone inferior to Spoiled Rich might think that they were sweat patches, but Spoiled knew that they weren't. The air conditioner had been on for too long, even if it was going to be a sticky seventy-something winter day. Her scratches had simply been that good.
Spoiled wasn't feigning good enough attention to the screen to catch what was happening, but whatever it was, it was enough to make Tirek whoop and yell loudly before taking a swig of his breakfast beer.
"Ahem," Spoiled cleared her throat. "I was planning on leaving now."
Tirek grunted and finally looked her way, his eyes wide with sudden recognition.
"We'll be in touch," she said, flashing him a seductive wink and blowing a kiss.
"Wait," he said, just as she strode in the direction of the door to the garage.
Spoiled paused and turned around. She arched one drawn-on eyebrow impatiently. It wasn't like him to stop her.
He jabbed one meaty hand in her direction, pointing over to the counter. "Take that with you."
Spoiled's gaze followed Tirek's gesture until she spotted what she had missed. At the opposite end of the bar was a plain plastic bag. The kind for dog poop or garbage. The kind of thing that was well beneath Spoiled to inspect.
"What the fuck is it?" she asked, not bothering to hide her disgust. She immediately scooped up her purse and clutched it close so that it wouldn't have to be near the ugly piece of trash.
"Look inside," said Tirek.
She did, gingerly gripping the plastic in her talon-like nails and pulling it back. Nestled in the bottom was a paperback book with a clearance sticker still on it, no doubt part of some holiday sale. She squinted at the title.
Ariel, said the cover simply, by Sylvia Platter.
"Tirek," Spoiled said, "you know I don't read... whatever this is. What is the meaning of this?"
For some reason that Spoiled couldn't fathom, her confusion startled the older man.
"Isn't your family Gaian?"
Spoiled raised her eyebrow even higher. "Filthy is," she muttered, her tone identical to the one that would be used for describing an infestation. "My family is. I'm certainly not. Though, I'm afraid that his side of the family filled Diamond Tiara's head with such silly things."
"What do you think next week is?"
Spoiled tapped one perfect nail to her chin and furrowed her brow in deep thought. "I don't remember having anything planned. Why do you ask?"
Tirek gave her a flat stare. "Next week the Gaians, Heathens, and others like them will be celebrating the Winter Solstice. The followers of Chesed will be celebrating Christmas. Followers of the Lady will be celebrating Nativity."
She tapped her foot impatiently, the heel clicking against the hardwood floor. "What does this have to do with me?"
Tirek sighed. "What did you tell that daughter of yours about where you were going yesterday?"
"That I was going to be staying at a friend's house," Spoiled recited effortlessly. She knew that particular excuse could cause problems but she knew to use it sparingly and to time it well with Moms for Decency activities.
"And?"
After a puff of her cigarette, a memory bubbled up in Spoiled's mind. "That I was going to be shopping for a Winter Solstice gift..."
Tirek nodded and took an approving sip of his beer as sports anchors blared in the background.
"But... why a book? Diamond knows better than to have loser hobbies that will get her nowhere."
"Didn't you say she's taking AP literature classes?"
"It's good for college," Spoiled retorted immediately, the edge of a whine entering her voice. All of this effort seemed excessive for one measly child... even if she was always in need of cementing her alibis.
"Take it," Tirek said again, waving his hand dismissively.
Spoiled sighed, but didn't protest. She wanted a kiss goodbye, after all. The book went into her purse.
...
The door to Spoiled's Range Rover slammed and she let out a sigh as she sank into the driver's seat. The inside of her car always smelled faintly of cigarettes and black coffee, but she enjoyed both scents regardless of how much it made a certain ingrate whine. Who was Diamond Tiara to complain about a little cigarette smoke? It never hurt anybody; it built character.
Since the book was in her purse, she placed it in the passenger seat. Normally, anything that wasn't for Spoiled was tossed straight into the back seat. There, it would sit among her signs for Moms for Decency and her yoga supplies until something happened to remind her of it again. That was true of all of Diamond Tiara's past holiday presents — which were normally just gift cards for more clothes or makeup and perfume that Spoiled couldn't justify buying for herself, but were ultimately necessary to ensure her child kept up the right appearances. Filthy's side of the family was the one that made the girl rotten. But she needed this. Her affairs, quite literally, had to be kept in order just enough to keep her life propped up.
Spoiled Rich turned the keys and waited for her car to hum to life. It looked like Diamond Tiara would be getting something different for the holidays after all.
Author's Note
I've been trying to get back into my writing groove lately, which means plenty of one-shots to chip away at writer's block, do minor world-building, and more.
