9 in the Afternoon (doesn’t exist and neither did poor richard)

Poor Richard was a fairy tale. She lived like she was in a fairy tale and wrote fairy tales to supplement her life. Cal Benet on the other hand did exist, but he never loved Poor Richard. He met her once but thought she was annoying. In fact it was hate at first sight. She was awkward and dumb. She stuttered when she spoke. Her hair was a dreadful mess. She couldn’t dress herself. She had nothing that had warranted her any grace of Cal’s presence, and the worst crime of all, she fancied herself his equal.

When their eyes met for the first time, they were narrowed in challenge. For every move Cal made, Poor tried to match it. When she couldn’t, she’d find some kind of loop hole – some kind of short cut to out-do him. She always won in her eyes, but she was a loser, and he knew it. Poor Richard was just a child and she wasn’t ready to play the games Cal Benet played. She didn’t work her way from the bottom. She didn’t skimp and scrape up every thing she had to get as far as she did. She sat down at the table and just lied her way to the top. Everyone had their price. She paid to get where she got by buying and selling people like Cal - befriending them, gaining their trust, turning around and selling them for a quick buck, dropping them like nothing when she was done.

Cal Benet never cared for Poor Richard, because Poor Richard never cared for anyone. Cal clawed around on the ground. Poor stood up and put on a façade. Somehow, they both ended up at the top of the tallest building in the town where they lived. She stood so innocently talking him off the ledge. She seemed so sincere when she fell to her knees, crying. Then he turned his back, and she stabbed him just like he knew she would. She took his jump. She took his glory, his flame, his thunder, and everything he lived for, but…

…It doesn’t even matter now because she’s dead.