His Drama Queen novel Chapter 1

Nicole Vargas

"That's a lot of money, Nicole!" My dad looked displeased at me as he opened his bank account and saw how much money I had spent. "For all I know, you have everything you need. Why do you need to keep on buying stuff?!"

"Papai, I don't!" I muttered looking down at my perfectly polished toes. "It's only sixty-five thousand real."

"Only sixty-five thousand! Are you out of your mind?! That's a lot of money!" he seethed angrily. "Give me your credit card. You will not buy anything for the next two weeks!"

"But dad...," I whined, tears brimming in my eyes. This can't be happening right now. Not when the big ball approaches. "I need to buy a dress for the elite ball next week. And shoes. And makeup!"

"You have a whole store with shoes, clothes, and makeup in your room. You even have three walk-in closets. Choose something you already have."

"But it will be so out of style, dad. Please let me use it for this once. I promise I will not spend that much anymore." I pleaded.

He shook his head. "You already said that the last time. And all the other five times. You're twenty-three and graduated, how can you still be so irresponsible?"

"I'm not irresponsible. I can't help that everything I see is so alluring. It basically calls me to buy it. You know it's hard for me to say no."

"Well, you need to learn to say no to all the alluring stuff. Only buy what you need. Now, you are dismissed, I have work to do. You don't get your card back."

"But papai---," I cried out.

"No arguments Nicole. I already made my decision. You don't know how to spend money, you don't get your credit card back." he said sternly and pointed his finger at the door. "Now, get out of my office, because I need to earn that sixty-five thousand real back."

I grunted angrily and stomped out of his office. I was so mad at him. He earns that money every fifteen minutes, I don't see what's the big deal. Next week there's going to be a big ball where all the billionaires and their families are going to be. It's a really fancy and elite ball and now I don't have anything to wear.

I walked into my bedroom and angrily started to turn on my music, the volume all the way up. Look what you made me do of Taylor Swift blasted in my room and probably through the whole penthouse.

"What is wrong with you, Nicole?" My mom yelled above the music as she barged into my room. "Why are you throwing another tantrum?"

I turned the volume down and huffed. "Dad took away my credit card."

"You spent so much money in three days. What did you expect?" She placed her hands on her hips and cocked an eyebrow.

"Don't take his side."

"Of course I will. You graduated Bachelor of Arts in Fashion Design. Do something with that degree and earn your own money."

I rolled my eyes and plopped down on my king-sized bed. I love Fashion and I loved the field I majored in, but I wasn't feeling to work in Brazil anymore. Everyone knows me, since my dad is the CEO of Brazil's most popular hotel and casino chains. The Vargas.

They would only give me the job because I was his daughter and not because of my degree. My dad also asked me a million times why I didn't want to have my own boutique, he had his connections to make it a reality.

Dinner time was family time. If my dad had a meeting during dinner time, he had to cancel that. Family comes first.

I closed the curtains of my window and walked downstairs. The smell of Feijoada entered my nostrils. "Mmmmh." I hummed as I entered the kitchen. Feijoada was my mom's specialty. It was warm rice with a stew of beans with beef and pork. It's commonly prepared in Macau, the place where my mom grew up.

My dad was already seated on the dinner table waiting for his food to be served. Even though we were elites, my dad always preferred a meal prepared by his wife. Even for lunch he brought food from home that my mom prepared.

"Hey papai," I seated next to him on the round dining table. "I'm sorry about earlier."

He just nodded. "Good, you're realizing your mistakes."

I smiled stiffly. "So, hmm---," Even though I have asked him this a million times and I know what his answer is going to be, I still keep on asking him. "Can I move to New York, to start my career as a fashion designer."

"No!" was his firm answer. "I already told you. I'll not let you out of this country. We don't have anyone in New York who can watch over you."

"I don't need anyone to watch over me. I'm twenty-three, not twelve."

My mom placed the plates with food on the table and my dad reached over to her and planted a kiss on her cheeks. "It smells delicious, querida. You never fail to amaze me with your cooking." My mom blushed at his compliment.

I sighed and started to eat. The food was delicious as always. My mom was good at everything. Painting, cooking, decorating, fashion, and so much more. She was from everything a little bit. Probably that's why my dad fell in love with her. I, on the other hand, was the total opposite of her. The only thing I'm good at is spending money and eating non-stop.