Prologue/Chapter 1

An uninspired college student interns at a famous public relations firm. He promises to nail himself to a cross if he can raise $1 million. But the lifestyle is short lived as he has to end his life.

Prologue

 

I slowly opened my eyes and clenched my teeth in pain as I watched blood drip from the edges of the three-inch nails that pierced my hands and feet. A washcloth was stuffed into my mouth as if I was a Thanksgiving turkey, to prevent me from screaming. Just like my Lord and savior, Jesus Christ, I had been nailed to a cross. Just like Him, I was betrayed with a kiss. I felt like the New Testament was a foretelling of my life. How could I have been so stupid?

Sweat dripped from the pores on my face and I could not wipe it. Even more annoying, there was an itch on the back of my head that I could not scratch. But those things were unimportant. I needed to figure out a way to get off of the cross. The slightest twitch of my legs or arms aggravated the wounds in my hands and feet, so I dared not move. I could feel myself drifting away. With each drop of blood, it felt like the life was being sucked out of me. 

So many things ran through my head as I hung from the cross for at least an hour. I would have gazed over at the $20,000 Rolex watch that I just bought, if it wasn’t conveniently taken from me before I voluntarily got up on the cross. I thought it would be a joke. You know, he-he, ha-ha. However, it turned out to be anything but.

At the age of 19, I’d just become a millionaire. It was always my dream to have over $1 million dollars, but I never thought I would die before I got to see it. If not for my mom, this wouldn’t have happened. She was always pushing me to get a job and accomplish something. For some reason, I wanted to make her proud, and by doing so, I failed myself. 

I could also blame Chase Matthews. If he hadn’t put so much pressure on me to come up with a popular marketing campaign, it would have never crossed my mind to pledge to crucify myself if I raised one million dollars. Heck, I never thought I would actually raise that much money. No one did, except maybe Carrie. She never doubted me, but she wasn’t without blame. It was her idea for me to do the stupid internship in the first place. I was more than happy collecting an allowance from my mom every month.

And finally, Tara was to blame. She was my only competition for the internship, and her campaign was so great that I had to do something outrageous just to have a chance against her. But in the end, only one person used a sledge hammer and physically embedded three nails through my body.  And I’m going to tell you who.

 

 

1

 

The Rolling Stones weren’t just my favorite rock band, but my favorite rolling paper as well. On days when I had plenty of free time, I often rolled 100mg of my drug of choice every eight hours. Living rent-free with no car or responsibilities and sharing a dorm room with my best friend/pusher man is the perfect situation for a college student.

Hayden brought me an ice-cold glass of tap water just as I finished twisting the paper closed. He held the glass against his chest, keeping it hostage from me until I gave him what he wanted. His long Fabio-like blonde hair touching the tips of the glass as he half smiled, knowing I’d do anything to get that glass of water so I could have my fix. I gently placed the twisted paper on the edge of my bed as I reached into my pocket and pulled out my last twenty dollar bill.

“One day, I’m gonna go to rehab so you can stop stealing money from me.” I raised a stiff eyebrow as I handed him a folded bill.

“That hurts, Tye. I’m not stealing money; I’m providing a service. I’m practically a doctor who makes house calls, my friend.” Hayden chuckled, never taking his eyes off of me as he took the bill and handed me the glass of water.

I scooped the twisted paper into my hand and looked down at it, admiring the contents as if it was a beautiful woman staring back at me. I placed the paper on the center of my tongue and tilted my head back as water poured out of the glass and made its way to my throat, taking the paper and the molly into my body.

I collapsed on my back, spreading my arms like angel wings above my pillows. The stress of school, depending on my mom for money, not knowing what I wanted to be in life…oh and having a baby on the way were all things that never crossed my mind when I was with molly. Like any habitual relationship, Molly had her ups and downs. No matter how angry or depressed I would get she would cheer me up. She made me want to love everything and everyone; which was precisely the reason I was expecting a baby in a few months. If I needed to stay awake for a few hours in order to get started on a research paper that was due the next morning­ �" well Molly would not only keep me awake for the night, but for days. Onetime I stayed up for 5 days straight without not even so much as a yawn.

“I’ve got to get ready for work soon. Do you need anything else before I go?” Hayden asked, hovering over my body as I stared up at him through tired, squinted eyes.

“Get ready for work? You’re a lifeguard; you practically walk around in the nude.” I grinned, bobbing my head forward and back as my entire reality slowed down.

“It’s not as easy as I make it look. For every hot girl who asks me to rub suntan lotion on her, a fat girl asks me to do the same.” He shrugged his shoulders and made his way over to the closet. “But it helps me get tips and new customers for my side job. I can’t imagine anyone being in a better situation than I am.”

Hayden opened the slide door to the closet and stared at the minute choices of clothing that he had, as if it was such a hard task to choose something to wear. All he had were tank tops, swimming trunks, plain Guy Harvey t-shirts in every basic color, and one pair of slacks. After pondering for a moment, he grabbed some white swim trunks with large blue waves on them and tossed it onto his bed.

As he shed his underwear and changed into swim trunks I looked down at my necklace. I rubbed my hand across every surface of my large, silver cross necklace that my father gave to me when I was young. I wore it every day.

Hayden made a loud snap with his fingers as if he just had a genius idea. “Tye, I’ve got a weird question for you.”

“What?” I asked, my eyes non-blinking and not veering away from the cross.

“Have you ever thought about what it would be like to crucify yourself?”

“Crucify?” I staggered backwards, my head slamming against the headboard. “You mean like Jesus?”

“Yeah, just like that. Do you ever wonder?” He stared strangely at me from the corner of his eye as he squirted a blob of white sun tan lotion into the palm of his hand and rubbed it against both arms. “Sometimes, I just see you obsessively staring at that cross.”

“I think about it sometimes.” I looked up at him, waiting for a serious response, but he continued to stare at me bizarrely.

“Don’t start talking that depressing s**t, Tye. That’s what the drugs are for.”

“I’m not depressed. You brought it up.” I mumbled under my breath.

He inhaled sharply, opening his mouth to speak until a loud pounding at the door interrupted his thought. Hayden looked at the door and then back at me, raising an eyebrow as I shrugged my shoulders. I wasn’t expecting company. He stood up from his bed and went to open the door. My eyes grew forty times in size as my girlfriend Carrie walked into my tunnel vision as I laid dazed and helpless in bed. I tightly shut my eyes to let her think I was sleeping; otherwise she would see the redness in my eyes and b***h at me for being high.

“Wake up, sleepy head!” Carrie said, bouncing on my bed like a toddler on a trampoline.

I swiftly sat up and shot her a viscous but playful look. “How in the hell did you get in my room?” I tried to play it off as if she woke me up from my sleep.

“Hayden let me in.” She plopped down beside me and rested her head against the same pillow that I was laying on. Her body tilted to face mine and she inched closer to kiss me.

“Don’t come any closer!” I threw my hands up to separate myself from her. “I have morning breath.”

“Ew.” She twisted her face in disgust and then let out a small grin. “Everyone has bad breath in the morning, Tye. What makes yours any worse?”

I leaned forward and brushed my curled hand against my extremely watery eyes, while looking up at Hayden. I gave him the ‘what the hell were you thinking letting my girl into the room before I could get ready’ look. He was sitting on the floor, leaning against his bed, which was across from mine, and smoking from a large purple hookah.

Hayden and I were roommates since our freshman year at UCLA last year. He was the typical California boy. He loved beaches, smoking hookah, and pretending like there wasn’t a care in the world. He treated everyone the same and never discriminated against people. Onetime a guy invited Hayden to a gay night club in West Hollywood and he actually went to check it out, even though he’s as straight as a candlestick.

 

ONE YEAR AGO �" THE DAY I MET HAYDEN

Mom came with me to help move into my dorm. Living on campus would be the first time I ever stayed away from her. The elevator was not working so she had to help me lug all my things up flights of stairs until we reached the fourth floor. Hayden noticed us carrying a 46 inch flat screen TV down the hall, along with the stand, and offered to give us a hand.

“What room are you staying in?” he asked, walking backwards down the hallway while carrying the other end of my TV.

“Room 412,” I told him.

“That’s so cool, dude!” He jerked his head back to move a lock of blonde hair out of his vision. “We’re roommates.”

That night, our first night as roommates, Hayden was an open book. He told me all about his dad being uptight and not letting him have any fun, and he pledged to live everyday like it was his last for the rest of his life. He also took me through the process of washing his long hair. He rinsed, lathered, and repeated for about thirty minutes every morning when he woke up and every night before he went to sleep. I felt like I was rooming with Brad Pitt in Troy.

 

BACK TO NOW

 “What’s the matter dude?” He exhaled smoke and smiled, revealing his perfect white teeth. Since his dad was a high profile California dentist, Hayden had better teeth than George Clooney. “I thought you’d be happy to see Carrie first thing in the morning.”

“Well, you should have thought again.” I leaned back on my pillow and tossed the bed sheets over my head. As soon as I shut my eyes to go back to sleep, Carrie snatched the sheets off my body and tossed them on the ground. A bone chilling freeze overcame my body and I shivered.

“Get dressed.” She spanked my butt, and I felt the entire sting because I was only wearing boxers. “I’m taking you somewhere.”

“Where are we going?” I asked.

“You’ll find out when we get there. Just put on the best outfit you own.” Carrie crawled my way and pressed her thick lips to mine. I always compared her lips to Egyptian cotton, because Carrie’s was born in Egypt and her lips were extra soft.

I tangled my arms around Carrie’s body and pulled her closer to me. Then I brushed my tongue up the side of her face, licking her cheek like it was a caramel lollipop.

Carrie’s jaw dropped and her eyes grew large as a pinball. “You got your icky breath all over my face, you jerk!” I could tell she was joking, despite her efforts to try and contain her laughter. After staring at me through squinted eyes, Carrie smiled and wiped my saliva off her face with her hand, and then she licked her finger tips.

“I love how you taste,” she said. 

“You guys are the weirdest couple in Cali.” Hayden took a large puff of hookah and then exhaled. “And there are a lot of weird couples here.”

With a beaming smile, I got out of bed and walked to the closet. I grabbed a grey plaid sweater and some black jeans from Urban Outfitters with a tear just above the knee.

“Really?” Carrie asked, straining to look at my outfit choice. “A sweater is the best thing you own?”

“You’re lucky I’m not going in my pajamas.” I wagged my finger in her face and preciously tapped her nose.

 

CARRIE’S SURPRISE

During our entire car ride Carrie would not tell me where we were going. She was smart and knew exactly what to say to get me out of my dorm early on a Saturday. I figured she was taking me to a job fair because lately all she’s been talking about is how I need to stop being lazy and figure out what I want to do with my life. Why else would she tell me to dress up?

We parked behind the building for Frontman PR, a prestigious public relations firm in Beverly Hills where Carrie worked as a receptionist. If her plan was to get me to work there as a receptionist as well, I was already prepared to ride the first taxi I could find back to my dorm.

“What are we doing here?” I asked.

Carrie turned off the car and removed her key from the ignition. “There’s an internship program going on here and I pulled some strings to get you in.” She smiled so big that the corners of her lips collided with her cute dimples. “No need to thank me.”

“Good because I wasn’t going to thank you.” I shook my head. “I’m not working here.”

“You have to work here!” Her eyebrows sunk and she stared at me unblinkingly from beneath her lashes.

“I’m perfectly fine collecting an allowance from my mom until I figure out what I want to do.”

She puffed out her cheeks and then sluggishly exhaled. “It’s a great honor to be considered for this internship, Tye. People from all over America and Canada applied and I got Chase to save a spot for you. I told him what a hard worker you are and that you’re extremely creative.”

I chuckled. “You must be dating another guy named Tye.”

Not a day went by that Carrie didn’t mention Chase Mathews. He was the Founder and Chairman of Frontman PR and was a god to celebrities and anyone in the entertainment industry. If not for Chase, there would be no red carpet events in LA, no popular reality shows or movies, and no up-and-coming celebrities, period. At the age of 30, he had a monopoly over the entire PR industry and he never let anyone forget it.

 

THE ONLY TIME I MET CHASE MATHEWS

When Carrie first started working at Frontman PR, about eight months ago, I thought it was so cool that she got to interact with celebrities on a regular basis. I had just gotten my allowance for the month and I decided to stop by and take her out to lunch. Chase Mathews shouted “Ey!” just as Carrie and I were about to exit the building. I had no idea he was talking to us, or that he was even behind us, but a huge security guard came out of nowhere, grabbed my arm, and escorted me over to Chase.

“Do you work for me?” Chase asked.

“No,” I said. “My girlfriend Carrie is one of your secretaries and I’m taking her out to lunch.”

“Drop what you’re doing right now and head down to the Ritz Café on La Cienega Boulevard and bring me back a medium rare filet mignon, with hummus and strawberry sorbet.”

“Um,” I glanced over at Carrie who was still standing by the door and then I turned back to him. “I’m sorry but I have to go.”

“Go and get my f*****g order or tell your girlfriend she can clean out her desk!” He sharply waved his finger in my face as if he was going to poke one of my eyes out. I was scared for my life.

“Yes sir,” I said, looking down at my feet in embarrassment.

“And don’t let my sorbet melt!” He said before turning around and heading back towards his office.

Carrie’s lunch break was only thirty minutes and she spent it driving me to La Cienega Boulevard to pick up Chase’s order. I had to spend the money I was going to spend on Carrie on his food, and when we got back to the office Chase was gone for the day. His assistant took the food from me and emptied it into the trash can. Apparently Chase had gone out to eat with one of his celebrity clients and he didn’t want anyone to enjoy his filet mignon. But his assistant did refund my money…sort of. She gave me single concert ticket for a new artist that Chase was trying to promote, and I never used it.

 

BACK TO NOW

“Come on, Tye. Please do it for me,” Carrie pleaded. Her eyes were trembling softly as if she were going to cry if I didn’t go through with the internship.

I sighed. “Ok I’ll give it a try.”

“Oh, thank you so much!” She leaped up from her seat, throwing her arms around me as she smothered my neck with kisses.

I smiled and gave her a single kiss on the lips. “Let’s hurry up and get this over with.”

We started towards the front of the building. I placed my hand on the door handle but hesitated to open it. After a few seconds of stalling Carrie tapped my arm and I yanked the door open. One of the office secretaries was sitting at the reception desk at the entrance. Nine people were scattered leisurely circling around the waiting room. I assumed they were all there for the internship. I was obviously the youngest person in the group. Everyone else looked to be in their thirties at least, with the exception of a tall sleazy looking girl with tangled blonde hair that stopped just above her shoulders and needed to be combed. She looked a few years older than me and wore a tight leopard pattern dress that was suitable for a night club but not business setting.

“Are you nervous?” Carrie whispered to me as I leaned against the wall.

“About what?” I raised my lips.

“Nervous about seeing Chase again.” She tucked her face into her neck, placing a hand over her mouth to hide her grin.

I relaxed my shoulders. “I think I’ll manage.”

“Make sure you impress him. He likes to put people on the spot so try and anticipate the questions that he’s going to ask and be ready to respond if he calls on you.”

“Yeah, sure,” I agreed. “How much does the position pay?”

“It’s not a paid internship, Tye.” She smirked and slightly shook her head. “Chase has been hush-hush on exactly what the internship is for. But I do know that working with him can open a lot of doors.”

“Have any doors been opened for you?” I half smiled. I expected Carrie to laugh but she stood straight faced.

“Ha,ha,ha,” she teased. “I work for him. Doors will be opened if you work with him. So don’t mess this up!”

The double glass doors that led to the rest of building shot open and Chase Matthews stepped out. One of his armed security guards held the door open and another walked out into the waiting room. Silence broke out as he stared everyone in the eye, one by one, with an unpleasant glare. I separated myself from Carrie and walked over to be with the rest of the group. He instantly looked up at me with his unblinking round eyes and studied me up and down.

“What’s my name?” Chase near-whispered.

“Um, excuse me, sir?” I hesitated.

“What’s my f*****g name?!” He tightly folded his arms and glared at me.

I took a deep breath and exhaled into my curled fist. “Chase Matthews, sir.”

“Let me ask you something. If Donald Trump told you to be somewhere at 10 a.m., what time would you get there?”

“I’d be there at 10 a.m. sharp.” I flashed a thumbs up, sucking my lips in.

“So how come all of these other hopefuls were here on time and you weren’t?”

“I was here, sir.” I looked over my shoulder and gestured at Carrie. “I was just talking to my�"�"”

“Is it because I’m black?” He gapes at me, blinking a couple of times; his expression unreadable.

“No.”

“So how come if Donald Trump tells you to be somewhere you’ll be on time, but when Chase Matthews tells you to be somewhere you’re late?”

“I’m sorry.” I looked down at the floor. Chase was throwing the race card around and there was nothing I could say to combat it. Although he was short, his presence scared the s**t out of me. Anyone who didn’t know who he was would probably assume he was a rapper because of all of the bling hanging from his body. A gold chain with his initials “CM” was dangling from around his neck, and he wore a skin-tight black t-shirt and grey slacks with some expensive-looking black sneakers. In the one time I met him and the many times I’d seen photos of him, he never wore a suit.

“From now on, if I ask you to be here at 10, you get here at 9:30,” he said softly.

I nodded my head.

Chase looked up at the tallest guy in the group. He was wearing a sheik black, fitted blazer with a white shirt and a Burberry tie and carried a large briefcase.

“What’s with the briefcase?” Chase asked, his eyes veering down at it and then back up at the man.

The tall guy smiled and raised his briefcase by his hip, tapping it with his free hand. “I brought it for professionalism.”

Chase stepped closer to the guy and stood on the tips of his toes, but he was still about a half a foot underneath the guys ears. “Did I ask you to bring a briefcase?” He whispered.

“No.” He swallowed nervously.

“Get the f**k out of my building!”

“But sir �"�"”

Chase put a hand in the air to interrupt him and then snapped his fingers at his security guard. Without hesitation, the guy turned around and quickly dashed out of the building before a security guard could come over to him.

“The rest of you can come inside,” Chase said as he turned around and walked through the double doors, leading the way to the conference room.

We followed behind him and each sat down at one of the chairs around the long table. Chase sat at the head of the table, and I sat the farthest away from him, closest to the door.

“Blondie!” Chase called out. “Come sit by me.” He smiled and tapped the space on the table in front of an empty seat that was next to him. The sleazy-looking girl hadn’t chosen a seat yet, so she quickly walked over to Chase and maintained a permanent smile until she sat down. She looked like she lived on the streets and wore the only outfit she owned to the internship. 

“So here’s the thing,” Chase began. “I’m looking for an über creative mofo to join my team as a public relations specialist. I don’t look at education credentials when I hire people because I didn’t go to college. I’m looking for someone with that “wow” factor. A certain je ne sais quoi.”

“Do you want someone who�"�"?” A chubby middle-aged woman in a pants suit began.

“Get out of my conference room,” Chase said calmly, leaning forward against the table.

“Excuse me?”

“I didn’t ask you to speak.” Chased snapped his fingers and tilted his head at the women, gesturing to the security guard from the corner of his eye.

She hastily stood up from the chair and made her way out of the room before Chase’s security guard could walk over to her. 

“Now we’re down to eight people.” Chase glanced around the room and nodded his head. “I will continue to make cuts throughout this meeting as I see fit. I may grant someone the winner of this internship today. Or I may let two or three people battle it out.”

I stared around the room and noticed everyone was giving Chase their undivided attention, except for me. I was looking down at the empty space on the table in front of me. But I quickly made the decision to glue my eyes to Chase just like everyone else was doing so that I wasn’t the next person to be forced out.

“Who wants to make one hundred thousand dollars a year?’ Chase asked.

Everyone in the room quickly launched their arms into the air. I lifted mine slightly higher to prove that I wanted it the most.

“That’s a lot of doll hairs,” A goofy -looking man said, and then smiled, expecting laughter.

I expected Chase to get mad at the guy for turning his serious question into a joke, but instead the corners of his lips bent into a smile. Chase leaned back in his leather chair and burst into a fit of laughter. The goofy-looking guy immediately started laughing with him and the rest of us joined in. Then, in a split second, Chase’s smile disappeared and the laughter stopped. He instantly looked just as straight-faced as ever before.

The man looked up and noticed that Chase was no longer laughing, but he still maintained an awkward smile. “Security?” he asked uncertainly.

“You already know,” Chase said, shaking his head and shooing the guy away with his hand.

As the lone security guard in the room escorted the guy outside, Chase started talking again. “I’m going to give everyone the task of creating and promoting a product or service of your choice. The person who creates the most buzz for their �"�"he made air quotes with his fingers�"�" idea, will get the job.”

Chase stood up and paced around the room, staring at each one of us as if he were searching for his next victim. “You!” He pointed to an attractive slender guy, wearing a beige polo and khaki jeans. “What product or service are you going to promote?”

“Um, I don’t know, sir.” The guy shrugged his shoulders. “I haven’t had any time to think about it.”

“When you work for me you have to be able to think on the spot!” Chase crossed his arms and plopped down on the table in front of him, his legs dangling from the edge of the table. “Come on, gimme something.”

“Uh, I don’t know. Maybe I’ll make a website. I’m good at that.” He smiled confidently.

“What kind of website?”

“Something new and cool that allows people to interact with each other and post statuses and stuff.”

“Ever heard of Facebook?”

He blinked a few times, looking confused. “Of course.”

Chase sighed and snapped his finger at the security guard, and then he pointed to the guy. He quickly stood up from his chair and walked towards the door as the security guard made his way over to him.

“What about you, Blondie?” Chase licked his lips as he leaned his belt buckle against the table. “Do you have any ideas?”

“Um, I was thinking about making pink fortune cookies and scattering them around the city,” she said.

“For breast cancer awareness?” Chase sucked his teeth, shaking his head in disappointment. “That’s not very original.”

“No? The cookies will each have dirty fortunes in them. You know, sexual stuff?” she winked. “And I was thinking that the bottom of each fortune will hash tag “dirty fortune” and people can tweet their fortune.”

“I like where you’re going with this.” He nodded his head and then walked back over to his chair and sat down. “Enlighten me.”

“I’m going to scatter hundreds of thousands of fortune cookies all over Hollywood and, once I’m hired,” she smiled and placed a hand over her heart, “businesses will pay us to advertise on these fortune cookies. We can get the idea copyrighted, and Frontman PR can own exclusive rights.”

Chase scooted to the edge of his chair and loudly clapped his hands together. “I love it, I love your idea!”

Blondie smiled wider and brushed her fingers back through her dingy hair.

“Who else wants to volunteer their idea?” Chase asked, smiling. He was in a good mood now. I lifted my hand into the air before someone had the chance to piss him off again and ruin the tranquility in the room. As soon as my arm left my side and I held it up in the air, I felt stupid for not having an idea to present.

Chase looked at me and tilted his head to let me know that I could speak. I tried to force myself to come up with an idea but I had nothing. I looked down at my shirt and noticed the large silver cross necklace that my dad gave me hanging from my neck.

“Go ahead,” Chase said calmly. He was still in a good mood and had a slight grin on his face.

“I’m going to crucify myself,” I blurted out, still looking down at the necklace as I held it in my hand.

Chase’s grin disappeared and he glared at me. “Do you think that’s funny?”

“I’m serious, sir,” I said, looking up at him. “I’m going to make a website and ask people for donations. If I raise one million dollars, I will tie myself to a cross for a whole day.”

Chase’s eyes grew wide once he realized I was serious. He opened his mouth to speak but then closed it. “That is the craziest thing I’ve ever heard in my thirty years of existence,” he said.

“Everyone out!” Chase hollered at the top of his lungs. I didn’t know why he wanted all of us to leave. Was my idea that terrible that I ruined it for everyone? He stood up from his chair and shooed us toward the door.

“Except for you, Blondie, and you, Jesus.” He pointed at me. I had one foot out the door when I turned around and noticed Chase pointing at me. I turned around and walked over to him, sitting in the chair next to Blondie. The security guard closed the door as the others left the room.

“I’m terrible with names,” Chase said as he leaned back against the conference table. “But nevertheless, what are yours?”

“I’m Tara,” the blonde girl smiled and gently extended her hand. Chase brought her hand to his lips and planted a kiss, his eyes veering and latching onto hers.

“And uh, I’m Tye,” I introduced. I wasn’t sure if I was supposed to shake his hand or not so I just tucked them into my pockets. Chase nodded his head back at me. It was how cool people said “What’s up?”

“The two of you have something special. I’m expecting a good fight between you guys,” Chase said. “It’s going to be like Ali and Frazier.” I smiled like I knew what he was talking about. I assumed he was mentioning two presidential candidates or something, but I wasn’t into politics.

Chase told us to launch our campaigns right away and to check in with him once a week. The rules were simple. If I raised more money than Tara had tweets, then I’d be the winner.

“How did it go?” Carried asked as we made our way out of the building. “I noticed he kicked a lot of people out.”

“Well, I was chosen, so I must have done something right,” I said with a smile.

Carrie’s mouth dropped and she threw her arms around me, hugging me as tight as humanly possible. “That is amazing news!”

We turned the corner and started toward the parking lot behind the building. I noticed Tara leaning against an ancient-looking red Ford Escort with chipped paint and a broken handle on the passenger door. It was so raggedy that one of the windows was missing and a plastic bag was in its place. She tilted her head back and ingested a few sips of Crown Royal before sitting down in the car.

“She made the cut, too.” I sly pointed to Tara with my head. “That’s my competition.”

“She looks, um,” Carrie grinded her teeth. “Kind of trashy. For lack of a better word.”

Carrie was the type of person who never liked to call people names. She was like an angel sent from heaven to teach me right from wrong and to keep me on the right path. But she had no luck stopping me from doing drugs. 

“Yeah, but I’m not going to underestimate her,” I said.

I climbed into Carrie’s 2001 Toyota Prius. It was old, but it was also good for the environment and that was all she cared about. She often bragged that it gets 42 miles to the gallon in the city, and she talked about what a service she was doing to the planet by driving it.

“Where is Chase’s car?” I asked as we drove away from the parking lot.

“He never drives to the office. A car service picks him up and drives him home every day,” she explained.

“Wow, that’s cool,” I said sarcastically.

“So you still haven’t told me what you have to do for the internship.”

“I’m going to crucify myself.” I smiled, leaning against the door as I waited to hear her response.

“Come again?” She sharply turned the wheel and drove onto Sunset Blvd.

“I’m going to create a website for people to donate money, and if I raise one million dollars, I will tie myself to a cross.”

“Please tell me you’re joking.” She snorted, leaning forward against the wheel. 

“I’m not kidding.” I shook my head so that she knew I was being serious. “The girl Tara who I’m going against had this great idea to make pink fortune cookies with dirty fortunes in them and have people tweet the fortunes and get businesses to advertise on them.”

“I don’t understand. What is all this for?”

“If I raise more money than Tara gets tweets for her cookies, I’ll be hired by Frontman for a one hundred thousand dollar a year job,” I said happily.

“Or you could just keep the one million dollars.” She grinned and then morphed her face into a serious look. “So you’re really going to go through with this?”

“Yup.”

“Well, you’re my boyfriend and we’ve having a child so I’m going to support you one hundred percent.” She tilted her head toward me and winked. “I will not allow you to be crucified.”

Author's Note

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Reviews

[Dai Hanshou]

AWESOME. The idea, it's so cool. Looking forward for more! Crucify Me. The title says it all...