But back to the Dipshet's party, Kakya and I left and went to another island nearby.
"And why were you hanging out with those old men?" Katya asked me as we flew in her private plane. "If you keep hanging out with them, you'll be a perv too, or maybe you already are, aren't you? You're such a perv." She grabbed my arm and started pulling it playfully. I didn't know if she was making fun of me or not, but she kept calling me a perv.
I took her arm off.
"You think it's fucking funny?" I said, and at this point almost everyone gets scared shitless and leaves me alone.
But not her.
"YoU tHiNk It'S fUcKiNg FuNnY?" she mocked me and grabbed my arm again. "Don't get mad, it's just a joke. You can't take even a joke? Jeez."
I was about to tell her to shut the fuck up or she'd get it, but her bodyguards were there watching me, and yes, I could destroy them in two seconds, but I would have to do it without bringing down the plane we were on, and that's what someone who can't take a joke would do, and I can take a joke, I'm not a fucking pussy.
Besides, why would I get mad about what that dumbass said?
So I smiled back at her to show her that her stupid little jokes didn't bother me at all.
"You fucking brat," I said and gave her a little push on the shoulder so she'd let go. The moment I did, the bodyguards reached into their jackets (they probably grabbed their guns). I mustered up some magic in my hands so I could take them down as soon as they pointed their weapons at me.
"You fucking brat," I said and gave her a little push on the shoulder so she'd let me go. The moment I did, the bodyguards reached into their jackets (they probably grabbed their guns). I concentrated some magic in my hands so I could kill them as soon as they pointed their guns at me.
"Oh, you wanna fight, huh? You wanna fight?" Katya put her fists up to her face as if she was boxing with me. She pretended to throw a few punches at me. Honestly, seeing someone so skinny and fragile like her dodging and feinting like a boxer made me laugh a lot.
The bodyguards took their empty hands out of their jackets.
Katya kept calling me a perv, and I kept calling her a fucking brat.
Anyway, We got wherever Katya took me right away. There were tons of clubs and stuff like that. We went into one and they took us to a VIP room, where there were a bunch of rich kids, you know, mostly white or tanned, with expensive clothes and watches. I was actually annoyed when I saw them 'cause I was sure that as soon as they saw me, they were gonna look down on me, but they didn't.
"Where were you?" one of them asked Katya. He was so fucking wasted.
"I picked up my friend Dark," Katya said, and don't think I was thrilled 'cause she called me friend, but I did think that if she already saw me as her friend, then I'd get the power of friendship in no time.
"Your name's Dark?" another guy there asked me, just as wasted as the first one. He was smiling like a complete idiot.
"You got a problem with that?" I asked, but that asshole was still smiling.
"That's so cool, bro. I'm Santi," he said, grabbing his glass. "Waiter, bring us another shampoo," that's how rich kids call champaigne, don't ask me why.
"Look, Dark," Katya pulled me by the arm and lead me around the room. "That's Chad, that's Cindy, and that's Travis. Just don't be a perv with them. He's such a perv," she told them.
"I'm not a perv!" I talked back at her. It was one thing for her to say that shit on the plane, but another to do it in public. Maybe they'd believe her.
"Only pervs hang out with Dipshet."
"I just wanted to make friends," I told her, and I only wanted that.
"Yeah, yeah, yeah. I know how they make friends there. They even exchange them," she looked at me. "You're mad again? Really?" she said, and that fucking girl shook her head as if she were disappointed in me. "You really can't take a joke. Nobody can say anything to you 'cause you get mad right away."
"I'm not mad!" I said calmly.
"I'm NoT mAd!" she mocked me.
At that moment the waiter arrived with another bottle of champagne.
"Give my friend Dark a drink," Santi told him, and the waiter did. "Cheers, bro," he said, and finished his.
"I drank a little bit. He then put his arm around me and tapped me on the chest.
"We're bros now, bro."
And we kept drinking. Some other guys joined us, and some even ended up ordering more bottles of champagne and drinking them with a shoe. When they got wasted, they would go to the bathroom and come back as good as new.
"What the fuck, you asshole?!" one of them, who was already wasted, yelled at someone, even though that guy did nothing to him.
"You got a problem, you fuck?!" the other one yelled back.
"I'll kick your ass, motherfucker!"
"No, I'll kick your ass, asshole!"
They kept talking shit at each other, but security took them out. Once outside, they kept talking shit.
"Junior, kick this guy's ass!" one of them told his bodyguard, and Junior approached.
"Beat the shit outta this guy, Popeye!" the other guy told his bodyguard, and Popeye approached.
At the end, only the bodyguard beat the shit outta each other.
But the weirdest thing of all was that Katya's friends always treated me as if I were one of them, as if I too had been born into their privilege.
And that's why I hated them so fucking much.
The more time I spent with them, the more I hated them.
Just seeing them spend so much money they didn't deserve pissed me off. They'd probably never earned a penny in their entire lives and yet they had so much money they could just throw it away.
Why did life spoil those idiots that much?
Why did life fucked everyone else?
You don't know how many people I had to kill and torture, how many people I had to betray, how many shootouts I had to survive to be in the same place they earned just by being born.
I wish they had called me "broke" or "peasant" and tried to drag me out of there 'cause it really pissed me off that they treated me like one of them, as if we came from the same place and had the same opportunities, as if it was my fault I was born into a poor family, as if it was our fault we were a poor family, 'cause if we were hungry, it was 'cause we wanted to be, 'cause we didn't work as hard as them, not 'cause the system is rigged and we had no other choice. The poor are poor 'cause they want to, right, you fucks?
Fuck your, fuck your, motherfuckers. God, I wish I could have killed you all that day.
"Are you still mad?" Katya came up to me and grabbed my arm. She was wasted. "Hey," she whispered in my ear, "let's go on a trip, and what's up with your ear?"
She said that 'cause I have cauliflower ears.
"Let's go," I told her that 'cause I didn't want to see those guys anymore, but I also wanted to see if that trip thing was true.
We got into her private plane, and it took off right away.
But also landed right away.
"Was that the trip?" I asked her.
"No, we're taking another plane," she told me. "Give me your phone number." I gave it to her, and she sent me a QR code. "This is the plane's ticket. You get on, and I'll catch up with you in a bit."
So I got off Katya's plane and went into the airport. At that moment, Katya's bodyguards stopped caring about me. I then waited in all the lines, and whenever they asked, I showed them the QR code and a passport a governor made me, so no one should notice it was fake. Although the eye patch makes it hard to go unnoticed, none of the police there found out who I was, or if they did, they just played dumb, as they should.
I then reached the platform, and they were already boarding. I joined them and started looking for my seat.
"Excuse me, sir," the flight attendant said. "Your ticket is for business class. Please come with me."
She led me to other side of the plain, there were a bunch of rich people in some big ass seats. I had never been in business class, especially since I almost always traveled in small planes that never took off from any airport and always flew low so no radar could detect them. The few times I went to an airport, it was because some politician or businessman was taking me in their private plane.
I sat there and waited for Katya, though I soon realized she wasn't coming. Why would she? She had a private plane. Why didn't we used that one? She'd probably made up the whole trip story to get rid of me. Or maybe that's what she and her friends did to people like me—they sent them to the other side of the world. Why would they do that? I dunno, they're rich. They can do whatever they want.
I bet she was already in that club with her rich friends, and they were probably making fun of me.
This may sound weird, but honestly, that idea made me feel good; if they made fun of me, it was 'cause I wasn't part of their group. That world wasn't mine, and it never would be. I had to kill and torture countless people to have the same money as them and be at the same parties.
But that didn't make us equal.
For society I was the worst piece of shit, and they were the new world leaders, the best of the best, those who provide jobs and sustain the economy.
They are almost always even worse than me, but that's how it is: for society, for the world, the rich are always the good guys, the entrepreneurs, the philanthropists, and the poor are always the addicts, the criminals, the lazy workers.
Well, whatever, later I'll have to go back and kill all those damn rich assholes 'cause nobody makes fun of me. I'm gonna have a lot of trouble with their dads, but I can kill them too.
And I guess I'll have to kill Katya too.
What a shame—I thought she was my friend.
"Hey, are you always mad or that's just your face?" It was her, she was standing in front of me and then she sat down on the seat next to me.
"What you doing here?" I asked.
"I you don't want me here, I can leave."
"Why we didn't use your plane?"
"My dad's bodyguards would end up following us everywhere, and that's why I had to lose them," she then asked the flight attendant for two glasses of champagne. "And tell me, you know how to ski?"