I'M THE WORST,
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Hamilton. Just that name will make you fall down your chair. Wealth, prestige, power. Old money, it was never to her own earning, but to her ancestors. Never had a complaint. This was all she knew; a childhood with the most expensive silk and jewels, where gala balls and summer parties at their opulent estate were as commonplace as afternoon tea. Raised within gilded walls and surrounded by silver spoon privilege, often feeling like a rare bird kept in an ornate cage. The days were filled with lessons on etiquette, art history and ballet, all meticulously designed to prepare her for the day she would become an asset to the family's legacy through marriage. No one ever asked her what she wanted, what she liked, which interests she had. Bored, is what she was. Never caring about Claude Monet's art or breaking her feet by ballet.
The oldest Hamilton heir - and therefore the most important one. Only followed by younger a sister. Never taking that title or responsibility seriously. Taking every single opportunity to do stuff she wasn’t allowed to. Kissing the bartender in the kitchen, lying when going to rave-ups. Being a teenager afterall. And an adventurous one of them.
As fate dictated—and her father insisted—she found herself betrothed to Douglas Winchester, a man chosen not for love, but for his wealth and status that matched her own family's ambitions. Together the two of them would combine their powerful families and create their own.
Putting on a smile, dressing up for her fiancée, setting up a fake reality. Deep down having late-night conversations between whispered dreams reminding her of what she truly desired: freedom beyond suffocating expectation.
Hiding her true emotions. Never had a nice attitude; she’s born with a silverspoon, of course everything is about her. Rarely making a good first-impression. Spoiled rotten, intelligent, but most importantly; loyal. There’s many words to say about her. You either want her or want to be her. The main character. It’s a self-defense mechanism. Having low self-esteem and deeply insecure, all her life, everything had to be perfect. She had to be perfect. She could never be too good, never too perfect. Jealousy running deep in her veins, no matter if you’re her boyfriend or her friend.
It was like the death of a hero, the day her fiancée called off their engagement. At least for her father. Herself, feeling relieved, a new chance for a new and freer life. Moving to Manhattan, her first apartment, all paid by daddy's bank account of course. The feeling of freedom for the first time. No one to watch her. No one to tell her no. At least until she one day, very soon, is expected to marry and carry on the legacy. It’s what’s expected from her. That’s what she was born to do. But for now, partying the night away, having one night affairs and kicking them out the next morning. They can have her body, but never her heart.
