My Billionaire's Heart

Eternity’s POV

Slowly and reluctantly, I uncover my face. I blink, close my eyes, and blink again. Streaks of sunlight penetrate the window and blind me. I sit up, drag my feet off the bed, and rub my knuckles into my eyes. I stretch my arms above my head and yawn.

I live in my apartment in New York. Of course, I am 21-years-old, and I don’t live with my parents.

My bedroom is small compared to the living room of my apartment, but I can still fit everything I need into it. I have a bed right in the middle of my squarish room, which takes up quite a bit of space, but I like it that way. You may find me lying there reading a book in the natural light coming through my window, which is my main source of light. The storage is great because it is hidden away above my wardrobe, which is built into the wall, although most of my stuff goes under the bed. There is a big black shoebox beside my bed that fits all my shoes in it. There is a mirror hanging on my off-white walls above a small table. Next to them, I have a tall, white dresser bulging with clothes. I have a white bedside table with an alarm clock, a rose-red touch lamp, and a blue Bluetooth speaker.

I scroll through my social media with no notifications to see this much boredom in my existence. Even so, I believe that one day your life will diminish from your passion and hard work.

I go toward the bathroom to do my morning business, and then, after taking a shower, I put on my sweatshirt and shorts.

After that, I move toward the kitchen for breakfast. I was about to open the fridge for packed food when the sound of a door swinging open caused me to jump.

“Surprise, Eter!” I hear my best friend Olivia’s voice.

“Olli, bitch, you are back,” I press my fist to my mouth, pinching my lips between the thumb and index finger.

She was in London on a business trip from her workplace. Olivia and I have been best friends since elementary school. We are partners in crime.

“Yeah, I wish to surprise my hag,” Olivia says, and the next moment I feel my breath choke as she wraps her arms around me.

“Wow, so how is your trip to London, bitch?” my neck tips back.

“Ughh, seriously? It was a complete headache, especially when you have to go to work and that asshole manager of our branch, I stopped myself to give him a piece of mind.” A spittle builds up in the corners of her mouth.

“Seriously, spare that poor fellow. He would be in hospital if he had the bad side of yours,” I say as I pace around the kitchen to find butter.

“Yeah, yeah, pray he doesn’t see my bad side,” Olivia answers as her face gets flushed with her hands getting into fists.

“OK, leave it. What about that dress which we saw last time window shopping?” I quickly change the topic because…

Warning, be careful: my best friend has very weird and toxic anger issues.

“Oh, I’ve got something,” she adds and picks out an exquisite photo frame where mine and her childhood images are.

“Wow, Oli, this is amazing, bitch.” Slowly, I release a deep breath while observing the beautiful picture frame.

“Indeed, it is true. I bought these in London too. One is for you. Another is for me. This is yours,” she answers and places it in the living room of my apartment.

“So what would you go for to eat, shag?” I ask while reaching out for bread and milk from the fridge.

“Nothing, hag.”

“Come on, let’s go to a cafe.”

“I am dying for a cold Vanilla Bean,” Olivia says while grabbing the sides of her head and then sliding fingers down the cheeks.

“OK, let’s go. I am in.” I wrap my arms around myself and lead toward my bedroom and pick up a white sweatshirt, black jeans, and my favorite white sneakers. I pull my dark brown hair into one French braid. I only put on lip balm. I prefer my face makeup-free; it doesn’t need any makeup.

I grab my backpack and place my credit card into it and reach out to the living room.

Olivia is lying on one of the couches in the living room, watching a random movie while munching chips. She is in blue jeans with a yellow tank top and a denim jacket over it. Her black hair is in a ponytail.

“Ready?” I ask while locking the door of my bedroom.

Olivia lifts her eyes at me and grins.

“You look like shit,” she says while wiggling her eyebrows.

“I know, wanker,” I roll my eyes at her, but my friend is looking at me.

My and Olivia’s friendship is like this: we always call each other by names like witch, bitch, wanker, whore, or hag as they are ways to express our love for each other, not the love of Romeo and Juliet but the love of BFF, which means best friends forever. Olivia is like a real sister to me.

“Yeah, let’s go,” she says, standing up and waving her arms.

We make our way away from my apartment building and get into Olivia’s car.

She drops her car near the cafe; we go there, and I am welcomed with the delicious aroma of coffee.

Rats in my stomach are dancing.

“You remain here. I will place our orders,” she says while taking out her credit card.

“OK, please come fast, I am starving,” I smile sheepishly and move to one of the tables.

After spending a very wonderful time with Olivia, we are getting away.

Suddenly, Olivia’s phone buzzes.

“Hello?” she answers and frowns upon hearing another person in line.

“OK, I am coming,” she pouts, then looks at me as she rubs her hands together.

“It’s an emergency call from work. I will drop you at your apartment,” she says, pouting and looking down.

“Hey, it’s OK, don’t feel bad. You go, girl. I prefer to go by bicycle today,” I say.

When Olivia leaves, I rent a bicycle from a website on my phone.

I love biking. I admire it all year round. That spirit, the path’s acceleration, rise and fall, the opportunity to go over grass, mud, or road… It is a freedom I will always crave. That sort of liberty is a gift, is it not? A privilege of movement, to strengthen oneself while having so much fun. And so, as I pass the cars, the passengers cower in their seats.

While riding a bicycle, I see the Mexus. Without a doubt, it is one of the best luxury cars.

My unhealthy obsession with cars.

I have been busy watching that wonderful car.

I was about to crash against the gigantic wall when I noticed the accident which was about to happen to me. My mouth is falling open, making my upper lip curl back. I tighten my clutch around the handle of a bicycle while closing my eyes so tight.

Someone’s hands fold around my waist. And that person twirls me around, and the bike goes away. That person and I collide on the harsh surface of the road.

“No,” I weep. I steady my breath and try to calm the panic.

I tightly close my eyes while my breathing grows heavier with my rising body.

Seconds pass, and I don’t feel any pain again. I clear my eyes, and my muscles get stiff.