Lifestyles of the Rich and Shameless by Noire, Kiki Swinson Read Free Book Online Page B

about culture shock. I was used to living in Crystal Lake Estates, where there were estates with gates and circular driveways. Eric lived in South Norfolk, basically the hood. He lived in an apartment complex that had doors so close to one another it reminded me of a seedy motel that I had seen on television. I had never even been to an apartment complex. Growing up, all of our family friends and all of my high school friends lived on estates. When Eric opened up his apartment door and I stepped inside, naturally my facial expression told it all.
    “It ain’t the palace you used to living in, hmm?” Eric said with an attitude, and he left me standing in the middle of the floor.
    I didn’t mean to make him feel bad, but looking around I knew it would take me some getting used to. Eric’s spot was very small, but I must admit it was neat and clean. It was still not what I was used to. I could see every room in Eric’s apartment if I stood in the middle of his living room. His couch was a worn leather piece that looked like someone had sliced it with a razor in some spots, and the recliner was a mismatch plaid material piece that looked like it had been gutted, with cotton spilling out of it in the middle. The coffee table looked like a throwback from the seventies and like it had been used as a butcher’s block with so many nicks and scratches on it. I had never thought people lived like that in real life. I had only ever seen stuff like that in some of the movies or TV shows I watched.
    Eric and I had frequented so many upscale hotels and I had lived in the lap of luxury so long that I never really thought about how he lived every day. Looking around at his raggedy furniture and shabby living conditions kind of confused me too. I was just wondering how someone like Eric, who always donned the best of everything, lived there. Eric wore the best clothes, either from hustling or that he got from me. He wore Rolex watches and thousands of dollars worth of jewelry, so I could not understand why he lived in a place like this. His bedroom looked even worse than any other place in the house. His bed was simply a mattress on the floor. No box spring, no bed frame, no bed skirt, no bunch of luxurious pillows, and certainly no regal headboard like I was accustomed to.
    “You gonna have to get used to this shit here, rich girl,” Eric had announced the first day I came to stay.
    I had tried to smile and act as if it would be fine with me, but I don’t think he bought the fake smile on my face. He kind of had an attitude that entire day.
    “I know it’s not what you’re used to, but I guess it beats being homeless,” Eric had followed up.
    I definitely couldn’t bring all of my clothes to his house. My walk-in closets were bigger than his entire place, so I had only taken a few things with me; even what I considered just a few things was still too much for the closet he called an apartment.
    After looking around, I had starting thinking that maybe rehab didn’t sound so bad, but there was no way I could ever go groveling back to my parents. I was way too angry at them. The first two weeks at Eric’s house I was fine. I had made myself get used to the cramped quarters and the horrible furniture. I stayed high enough to escape reality and Eric laid the dick down on me enough to satisfy any doubts I had about remaining in a relationship with him. I had not heard from my parents and soon found out that they had even cut my cell phone service off. I thought that was as petty and as low as they could go. It sent the message that they obviously didn’t want to stay in touch with me... . How fucking worried could they be? They knew I didn’t have any money and they didn’t care where I was living or anything. Fuck them!
    It was about the third week that I was with Eric that shit started going downhill fast. Eric had been out hustling, or “working” as he referred to it, and I was at home. He had my car so I was stuck.