I slept through all of my alarms.

There goes that coffee shop performance. 

My cellphone ringing over and over woke me to the news that my father wanted to speak to me.  Desperately.

Better get it over with now, before he sends a squad from the estate to make sure I'm still in one piece.

"Hello?"

"Ivy, please tell me why my lawyers are telling me about some kind of contract between you and Kade Hendrix?  What the hell happened?"

I groaned, blinking away the sunlight form my eyes before stretching my arms high above my head and letting out a yawn that definitely didn't smell great. 

"You're talking to a girl with exclusive royalty rights to the next album with the one and only Kade Hendrix.  Go ahead—cry, scream, get out all of your happiness.  It's very exciting, I know."

The silence on the other end was proof enough that he was most certainly not amused. 

"Ivy, what have you gotten yourself into now?  Do you know what the media is saying about him right now?  And to get involved with a pop star right now, with the Primaries only a few months away?  It's crucial that our campaign is only receiving positive press."

"Ah, yes, but remember what your campaign manager once told me?  All press is good press?  So, technically—"

"This isn't a joke.  If you're seen with him, it could seriously hurt my chances of being selected in the first place."

"I seriously don't think me being seen with him would hurt your chances.  If anything, it would bolster voting from a younger demographic which you seriously need to connect with even more than you need to stay connected with your older generations.  And anyway, I won't be seen with him at all.  I'm just helping to co-write his album and to get my royalties, that's all.  I can even use a pseudonym if you want?  I can be Vanna White or April Showers, or even—"

"I am proud of you for securing this deal without my help, but I really wish you would have run this by me first.  Will you come over for brunch today?  It's very important you be here."

I was so grateful he couldn't hear me rolling my eyes from over the phone. 

"Of course, Dad.  Whatever you want.  Just give me about an hour to get ready and an hour to get there and I'll see you soon."

"Great.  I love you, Ivy."

"Love you too, Dad."

The blinding sun filtered through the air and threaded through the copper strands of hair hanging in a curtain around my face. 

I didn't waste any more time as I showered in the communal bathrooms before styling my hair and applying makeup so that I looked presentable enough for my father. 

No doubt there would be countless donors or constituents in attendance at this brunch that he'd made it seem like would be just us. 

I learned a long time ago 'brunch' was code for schmooze party where he kissed the asses of each and every person available. 

We didn't have the worst relationship, but it wasn't the best either.  I loved my dad, but sometimes...okay, well, most of the time, I resented him from taking me away from my mother and my hometown that I'd grown to love so much.  

He'd petitioned the courts for an emergency custody hearing on the grounds of my mother's latest drug tests which she'd failed (conveniently after she'd been clean for an entire year), and he had won full custody of me. 

It wasn't long before my entire life had been uprooted and I was sent to live in the sprawling estate in upstate New York at fifteen years old. 

At least I still had the friends I'd made coming to live with my dad every summer since they'd separated.  

At least I still had Con and Isaac, the two people who had gotten me through the worst of it. 

I made a mental note to try and call my mother soon, but with the strange schedule that she was on in her facility, I wasn't sure I'd be able to get through to her anytime soon. 

A pink frilly sun dress and splash of perfume later, and I was 'presentable', at least for my father's standards. 

I would've much rather shown up in jeans and a t-shirt, but knowing who'd be there, I'd decided against it. 

It was so much easier to do what my family wanted rather than go against the status-quo.  What was another fight worth if it meant even more anxiety and drama in my life?

I'd rather have them picking at my siblings rather than the frizziness of my hair or my unpolished nails, though that was mainly Catalina's department. 

She basically assumed that since my mother was an addict, then I was destined to become one, too, so she did everything in her power to make me more like her.  

Needless to say, we clashed.  A lot. 

I reached my car in the student lot and started the arduous drive out of the city while playing my music at an eardrum-bursting level, thankful I hadn't run into Isaac or Constance on my way out. 

Or Caleb or any of his friends either, for that matter.

I still had a slight limp from my ankle, but the majority of the pain had gone away with a painkiller, so hopefully my father wouldn't notice my strange walking. 

An hour later and I was pulling into the paved driveway after inputting the code to the wrought iron gate that kept away most unwanted visitors. 

A nervous ball of energy exploded in my stomach as the white two-story Victorian style home came into view, the large wrap-around porch covered in wisteria and party balloons. 

Signs for my father's election dotted the pristine green lawn and I pulled into the circular driveway underneath a large banner that announced the fundraiser for my father's campaign.

Of course, he'd downplayed it as some regular brunch.  If I'd said no, he probably would've told me just how important it was, but I'd come to expect this kind of behavior from him. 

Panic stabbed me in the heart as I realized what this would mean. 

No wonder I hadn't run into Caleb at the school; he was definitely here with his father, Glenn Brentwood, my father's biggest campaign donor. 

Guess who's ass I was expected to have to kiss all day?

A large white tent was set up in the backyard beyond the swimming pool which held floating Lillies atop the crystalline surface. 

Honeysuckle must've been in full bloom as the scent hit my nose the second I made it to the backyard, my heels trying to sink into the soft green grass that decorated the yard like carpet beneath the pub tables dotted around the area. 

"Oh, there you are Ivy!  Thank goodness you're early!"

I cringed as Catalina's fake boobs pressed into my chest and I quickly pulled away to hold her at arm's length. 

"Hi, Cat."

I cringed again as I had to call her by her nickname.  

You know the mom from 'Mean Girls'?  Yeah, that was Catalina.  Except she wasn't as oblivious. 

"Your brother and sister are inside pouting because they're having to wear the outfits I laid out for them.  Your dress is...interesting.  I have an extra for you inside, if you don't mind?"

I looked down at the pale pink sundress that actually hid some of my curves, but I shrugged my shoulders at her. 

"What does it look like?"

She swatted at a stray dragonfly that was flying too close to her perfectly coiffed blonde hair. 

"It's green so it'll go beautifully with your eyes and hair.  Why don't you head on up and put it on before everyone arrives?  Your boyfriend Caleb is already downstairs waiting on you."

"My what?!"

Innocent birds that were playing in the little birdbath close to us took off in flight at the screech I had just let out. 

"Caleb Brentwood!  You know, you two were going out last semester—"

"No.  No no no no no no no.  I can take putting on a different dress and following all of your rules to a T, but I refuse to play along with this game.  I will not speak to that man at all today, and if you try to make me, I will leave.  I don't care about my tuition at school, my father can throw his pocketbook in the fire for all I care.  Do you understand me?"

"But Ivy, he's Glenn's son—"

"Then you can tell my father he can kiss his ass, and not to use his daughter as his little puppet to get more money for his fucking campaign."

I stormed off toward the house with Catalina calling after me, but with the way my heart was threatening to beat out of my chest, I didn't have any doubt that I would bite anyone's head off if they came after me. 

I strode up to the open french doors that exposed the entire back half of the house to the backyard as it looked over the pond and swimming pool. 

Sure enough, Caleb was there at the wet bar set up at the entrance to the covered porch which led out to the pool conversing with his piece-of-shit father who'd felt me up in the middle of a cocktail party last summer when my father announced wanting to get into politics. 

He was ghastly rich, and though we were supposed to be sucking up to him, I merely breezed right past him and his pathetic excuse for a son and was sprinting up the spiral staircase to the upstairs room that I occupied when staying here for the night. 

I was trying to save up enough money to get an apartment with Con and Isaac in the city, but I didn't want Isaac to have to pay for most of it considering how much money his family had.  I didn't want to take advantage of his generosity.  I wanted to pay my own way.

But I might've been willing to let him pay a few extra hundred dollars a month in exchange for me doing all the housework, cooking, and even doing his laundry if it meant getting out of this fucking house. 

My step-siblings Blythe and Bronson were playing on the Xbox in the upstairs game room so I bypassed them altogether, not wanting to have to deal with their snotty behavior before entering my room that should've been my sanctuary, but instead all I saw was the reflection of a girl with no one on her side in this house. 

This room wasn't my style. 

It was all pale lavenders and baby pink.  It was floral and feminine and pretty, something I wished I could've been. 

The truth was...I was just too fucked up on the inside. 

I liked the color black and secretly loved rock music—like, death-core music. 

I rarely wore makeup, and when I did it was for my father or going out. 

Hell, I'd only dated Caleb because my father set it up, and then when I'd fallen hard, I had thought—once upon a time—that it was fate. 

Fucking fate. 

Destiny, happily ever after...

None of that shit existed. 

That was for little girls with creative imaginations and Disney characters. 

The real world was harsh and brutal, and it only took me losing my virginity to a guy who only wanted one thing then continuously bullying after he'd broken up with me not to mention sending around my naked photos that I'd only sent to him for me to realize that about this world. 

I had learned my lesson. 

Trust was for vulnerable people who just hadn't been fucked with yet. 

They'd learn. 

I did.

The olive green dress laid out on my bed in a garment bag was silk and cinched around the waist to where it fell down mid-calf. 

Floral accents decorated the dress and I knew before even slipping it on that my chest and my ass were going to look fabulous in it, but that was the problem considering the lecherous creeps I would be in the lovely company of tonight. 

Catalina was really trying to wring the money out of these old fuckers, wasn't she? 

I sighed as I slipped the new dress over my hips and wished that I could've worn the dress somewhere else. 

It was beautiful and feminine—again, everything that I had used to want. 

That girl wasn't me anymore. 

I slid my nude heels back on and fixed my ruffled hair before hiding out in my room for just a little longer. 

The sun was at its peak in the sky, casting the lawn in a gilded splash of light that lit up the gold and white decorations for my father. 

His campaign speech was going to be tedious and boring. 

It didn't matter if I agreed with his platform or not, either.  As his prop-daughter, I was expected to stand straight, plaster a serene smile on my face, and be the quiet decoration for his campaign. 

As the eldest, Blythe and Bronson got to stand in front of me, and with Catalina placed strategically on the other side of my father, I could almost pretend I was just some onlooker from behind the stage. 

Sometimes I'd daydream I was somewhere in Arizona with my mom—riding ATV's out in the desert while we relaxed back on a blanket out in the middle of nowhere to stargaze or watch the sunset. 

Those days were long gone, though. 

A loud rap at my door had me standing from the bed and walking to the door, a Halestorm song playing in my head as I marched to my doom.

"Ivy, our guests are arriving.  Are you ready?  Catalina told me she'd sent you up to get changed."

I opened the door to find all six feet of my father staring down at me with an old kind of wisdom in his brown eyes. 

"I'm ready."

He squinted while looking me over, something akin to approval settling in his gaze as the wrinkles softened around his mouth and some unseen tension disappeared from his posture. 

Dressed in light grey slacks and a pale purple button up, I realized that Catalina had made sure that she matched him in her own purple ensemble, because, of course she did. 

"You look beautiful.  Come on, I'll escort you down the stairs."

"Thanks, Dad.  So, Catalina dress you, too?"

He laughed at my irritated tone. 

"Doesn't she always?  If it saves me time in the morning, I'll happily let her dress me until I'm old and grey."

"Don't talk so soon—I think I see a few grey's right there," I said, reaching up on my toes to point at a place on his head. 

"No," he gasped in faux shock.  

"Not yet!  I'm only forty."

"Forty is old as hell, dad, sorry to tell ya."

"You know you'll be forty years old one day, too.  I hope I'm still alive to see it so I can call you 'old as hell' too."

I shuddered jokingly. 

"Nope.  Kill me by the time I'm thirty so I never have to live through that."

We shared another laugh before his mask slipped on for the public as we arrived at the top of the stairs. 

At least a hundred of my father's guests were gathered at the bottom of the steps and I sucked in a breath of anxiousness as each and every pair of eyes found me. 

This was what I had never gotten used to.  

The eyes, the attention.  

I could pinpoint which gaze belonged to Caleb and his father the moment we crested over the first step, my grip on my father's arm tightening on instinct. 

When it came to certain situations, I felt safe in my father's arms.  In others...

In others, it felt like he was leading me like a lamb to the slaughter. 

"Smile, Ivy.  You look like someone just stole your keyboard."

He wasn't far off base.  

I hadn't had a single moment to think about Kade Hendrix stealing my song, but with the lucrative deal that we'd crafted up between us, it was starting to look more beneficial to me that he'd stolen it in the first place. 

I had no idea why I'd been so rude on the phone with him last night, but it felt right.  He was getting too familiar with me.  

I'd shared that song with him immediately; like there was some kind of familiarity between us that I couldn't put my finger on. 

It scared me how open I could be with him with my music, because my lyrics and my poetry were really all I had to express my true feelings on the inside. 

With him knowing my deepest secrets without actually having the context to make sense of them, if I gave him the ammunition he needed to destroy me, it would only be a matter of time before he pulled the trigger. 

It was only a matter of time before anyone close to me disappointed me in the end, so what was the point in letting them get close enough to hurt me in the first place?

If they didn't have the power to hurt me, then they couldn't. 

Applause reached my ears as we descended the stairs and I could sense the evil glare my stepmother was giving me from where she waited with her other children.

I wondered how it made her feel—to be viewed as second place to me with my father.  

I hoped she choked on that feeling until it made her have nightmares of being replaced at two in the morning, only to wake up and realize it had already happened. 

I turned on my inner soundtrack and stepped down the rest of the stairs to the beat of 'I Am the Fire' by Halestorm, trying to emulate some kind of badass impression that I definitely wasn't feeling while dressed up like some kind of flirtatious barbie. 

We had just hit the bottom step before Glenn and his son came to stand by us.

"James, why don't we let these two kids work out their differences while you and I talk in your office?"

"Glenn, the party just started, why don't we enjoy—"

"I have something I need to ask you."

"Okay.  Ivy, can you entertain Caleb here for a moment?  I promise we'll be back soon."

I gritted my teeth hard enough to smash them down into powder. 

"Sure.  Why not."

I ignored Caleb's arm that he extended toward me, staring out past him as he followed behind like some kind of twisted animal following their owner. 

My father had just thrown me to the dogs, and I wasn't planning on playing nice.

"That wasn't very nice, Ives."

I ignored his jab and searched for any familiar face in the crowd. 

My gaze finally landed on Mia, my father's idea of an 'appropriate' friend.  

She started striding over to us before I had to beg her with my eyes. 

Dressed in a pale yellow sundress, her dark skin stood out in a glowing contrast to the rest of the crowd who were all old and white. 

I shuddered again, wishing that my father was aligned with any other political party.  Any other. 

Why couldn't he have been part of the Green party or something?  Or just made up his own damn party?!

Mia was half Chinese, and her father had always dragged her along to these functions which made her want to vomit.  Just like me. 

A match made in heaven in the hell we were forced to endure together. 

"Cat's style has gotten better with time at least," she said upon greeting.  

"Don't get me started on her."

"Hey, Ives."

I pulled my arm out of Caleb's grip roughly before turning to him with my favorite glare—the one that said to back the fuck off before someone got kicked in the balls. 

"You can fuck with me at school with all your friends around, but you are in my home.  At an event being thrown by my family.  So, you can kindly fuck off."

I was pulled out of the moment and tugged away with Mia in my corner shooting daggers at anyone daring to venture close to us by my phone buzzing. 

It was Kade, asking to meet for the first time for our songwriting sessions tonight.  

I wished I could just get the rest of the party over with now, but I knew it would go on for at