A/N. Hey guys! This is just a little taster, only 900 words or so. I wanted to take on a kind of 'rich kids gone bad' story- there is a twist to it, but I don't want to reveal it just yet. If you guys could tell me about any direction to take the story in then that would be great. If I don't get any reviews then I'll just keep updating until it gets better! Thanks!

Song for this chapter: Beautiful, dirty, rich- Lady GaGa

JENNY POV:
I flipped my head around to the sound of my roommate annoyingly talking, unfortunately to me.
"Hey, so, what the actual fuck are we gonna wear tonight?" I ignored the question.
Ahh, the annual shit-faced-fest. Or so I renamed it. A group of horny teenagers too young to be out past midnight rubbing their crotches against each other, spilling tequila down their Chanel, Ralph Lauren or whatever the fuck shirts these hoes were wearing. All in the name of school spirit- hooray!
I assumed the headmaster still hadn't figured out where all of his precious students would disappear too when I received the text telling me where to go to this very night.

"I'm leaving now, I'll catch up with Jace. Text Chuck? Tell him to take you, Lord knows he's taken enough from you already.." I left that as the announcement for my departure with the sound of her latest Gucci handbag being thrown at the door. No hugs, no "air-kisses" fuck that shit.
As Shakespeare, or some other English guy I'm sure has already written about- emotion only brings about problems. And fuck if the kids here at Hotchkiss didn't know that.

Allow me to elaborate. Hotchkiss is the second to best private boarding school here in the US of A. The best teachers teach here, the best (and richest) students go here. There's a reason it's second to best- here, Money is everything. That shit gets a fucking capital M. And sometimes we slip up and other people are enlightened of our tales of debauchary. Sometimes even Money can't buy our way out of the NY times, so we have some what of a tainted reputation. Minor things, alcohol, boys in girls dorms fucking them senseless.

The headmaster is constantly trying to remove the taints in that reputation, so he usually turns a blind eye to all the shit we like to throw around here after hours- so long as we keep up a front of course. We continue to be blindingly shiny, well-rounded students and we can sneak as many bottles of imported fucking German beer, take as many drugs, fuck as many people as we want, whenever we want.

And where do I, little Jenny Humphrey come into this? I'm at the top. The top. I'm the fucking shit, the best of the fucking best. I am Elite. Seperate from my classmates. I'm the badass in leather. Guys want me and girls want to be me, it's always been this way for me growing up, and thanks to my mother and father I continued to grow into the bitch I was born to be. You can't make this shit up.

"Hey Jace- ready to act like the fucked up bitches we are? Jace? Motherfucker?" Shit, it was dark in here. Way too dark, where was he? I understand being fashionably late as much as the next bitch but I don't want to be so late that the party is fucking over.
"Is that your leg I see hanging out the freaking door? If you're passed out already so help me God-" I was cut off by the empty pill bottles I saw. Huh, that was weird. I didn't know Jace took medication, what for? And why was he lying on the floor?

I tried to shake him out of whatever shit-faced induced sleep he was in, but he wouldn't wake up. That was when I called 911.

Now whenever I think about that night it always surprises me how little I remember after that. I've seen OD's before- so why did this one bother me so much? Yeah, Jace was one of my best friends, but I thought I'd eventually move on and the memories would come back. But they haven't, and I suspect they won't.

In a normal fashion I would tell you how much my life had changed since then, how reformed I had become. How I stopped drinking and doing drugs and turned to Christ to save my soul. But honestly? Not a lot had changed. Sure, things sucked for a while with his funeral and everything. And of course there was all the media coverage with different theories on why he committed suicide, but none of them fit. It's all true, but people aren't supposed to know that. Hotchkiss moved on, the parties continued. The sneaking around, sex, lies, scandals, money, all that stuff carried on. So why didn't I?

I still don't understand what happened that night, it's an unspoken agreement between Tinsley, Chuck and myself that we just don't talk about this. We all tell ourselves he had too much family shit going on, that stuff is easy to believe. We all fucking have family shit going on- it's expected here. If you don't have some sort of divorce, illegitimate love children or incest going on then what the fuck were you doing here?

But now problems were being caused. Problems I wasn't happy with. Motherfucking reporters interferring everywhere. Every time I picked up a copy of the paper or saw NY Times online there was another freakin' story exposing some drug scandal, or threesome with some rich kids son. This school is built on lies and secrets, secrets we keep from eachother. Skeletons in our closets about to get outed. And it ain't gonna be pretty.

So I the secrets are gonna be out soon, were all fucked up here. Welcome to Hotchkiss.

A/N. Well there it is! I hope it had some element of decency to it. If you could let me know what you thought it would be greatly appreciated!