A/N: This story takes place in present times and has some new differences in it.

Please Read and Review!

Thanks Big Fan - of course I meant "new".

The Dewitt Bukaters, George, Ruth and their daughter Rose had been a very prominent family of the Philadelphian high society. Due to a disinvestment in stocks however, they were forced to sell their villa along with their two Maserati's, two Porsches and one Mercedes.

George Dewitt Bukater was by then fifty five and had worked for a banking company, a job he had sadly lost a year ago for reasons of economy measures. His boss had told him that they won't need his services anymore.

At least he had gotten some money, financial settlement, which he had reinvested in stocks as mentioned above. Not only was their fortune gone now, their servants were too and his wife, Ruth, couldn't believe that her husband really expected her to give up their good life.

However, they had to, if they didn't want to end up in prison. Ruth was ten years younger than her husband, who had been an uprising marketing manager already, probably one of reasons of why she had married him. At twenty seven she had given birth to their only child – Rose, who was to turn eighteen in two weeks and was angry, because there wouldn't be a big party.

All, because George Dewitt Bukater hadn't worked hard enough and now both women had to live in a rundown flat in New York.

'That's the only way to get out of this situation,' George had told his wife.

Ruth was furious, but she was far too much a high society lady to show it on the outside. When George handed her a handbag, she just looked at him flabbergasted, when he told her eventually that she should take it.

"We don't have any servants now anymore, Ruth."

Reluctantly Ruth took it. Rose was also forced to hold one. She had dressed in one of her best clothes today, because she actually had wanted to charm James, the quarterback of the baseball team, but obviously her father had other plans.

"My finger nails broke," she announced after a while. "James will never go out with me now. Just look at my dress."

George rolled his eyes in anger, making Rose stop instantly.

Why did god have to give him this family? His wife and daughter were both as lazy as can be only interested in shopping and partying. Ruth felt like he owed her this, after all she had given up her own carrier for him and stayed at home to play the housewife. There wasn't a day going bye that she didn't remind him of her great sacrifices.

'This was your decision. I never told you to stop working.'

But Ruth wouldn't listen. And now this, they had to give up their good standing in society and for what…? Ruth shuddered, when she thought about the things that would follow soon.

George watched his daughter descending the stairs, who had seemingly problems with getting downstairs due to the high heels she was wearing. George just shook his head.

"Didn't I tell you that you should wear some more practical shoes today?"

Rose shot him a sweet daughter's look, one that so often made his heart melt.

"But daddy, I suspected I would meet James today. I can't go out and meet him with some common sandals on," she told him.

George didn't bother to tell her that he didn't like this James guy at all or that he had mentioned the house moving already two weeks ago.

At last they had managed to all get out of the house to the waiting taxi.

The taxi driver didn't bother to open the doors for them, which Ruth and Rose instantly noticed with disdain.

"Where's Wesley?" Ruth asked.

Wesley had been their chauffeur.

"What do you presume?" George couldn't help it anymore.

Was he really married to this woman? With this daughter? Really what had he been thinking?

"You fired him? But daddy how could you?" Rose's voice shrieked up. "How am I supposed to visit my friends now?"

George shot her a look that made her shut up for once. Ruth and her daughter took the seats in the back, while George sat beside the driver.

"Just get in the car now," he told her quietly.

Inside Ruth couldn't help, but comment on the bad leather seats.

"They certainly need to be changed. Just look how dirty they are. "

The taxi driver just showed her the finger, when he was sure that no one, but her, was seeing it.

"George, darling, did you notice what this man did?"

In fact he didn't care at all, but to end this stupid quarrel he said – "Darling, I'm sure he didn't mean it."

The taxi driver smiled feeling sorry for this man.

"Daddy, how am I supposed to get into the city without a car?"

Oh no not again!

"There're so called things like busses, you know," George told her as relaxed as he could, in a tone of voice as if talking to a little child.

Inside he was burning from anger already.

"But daddy..."

George sighed, letting her brabble on, as he himself led his head against the window and pretended to be sleeping. He had bought them a flat in New York and now they were on their way to see it for the first time. Of course George and Ruth had been to New York before, but then they had been residing at the Waldorf Astoria or Hilton Hotel for that matter.

At last the two women had stopped talking and George could get some rest.

Finally after about two hours they had reached New York.

"Ah, I can't wait to go shopping again. They've wonderful Gucci and Prada shops, you know, my dear," Ruth explained to her daughter.

George listened to their stupid talks. Obviously they still hadn't understood anything.

"How wonderful, mother, I can't wait."

The taxi driver helped them to get their bags upstairs to their flat, mostly because he felt sorry for George.

A woman was already awaiting them before their new home with keys in her hands.

"Hello, you must be Mr Dewitt Bukater," she was smiling at them pretending not to notice Ruth looking her up and down and Rose moving her finger over the dust.

"Yes, I'm and these are my wife, Ruth and my daughter Rose."

"Great, my names Margaret Brown, but everyone calls me Molly. You may as well," she told him smiling brightly again. "I'm the janitor here or facility manager as you might probably say."

George and her shook hands and she gave him the keys for the flat. Ruth and Rose didn't think of thanking her or shaking hands.

"I'm responsible for everything here. You'll see everyone is really nice here."

All of them moved inside the flat, Molly showing them around.

"And here we have the kitchen."

"It's a very sweet flat."

"Sweet indeed," Ruth sneered behind her husband.

"We'll take it," he announced not bothering on consulting his wife.

"Fine, please sign here."

When he had done so, Molly congratulated him.

"What would James say or even worse Stacy and Alison, if they could see me now?"

Molly sensed that the two women weren't used to this living, but she wasn't about to give in to them.

I'm going to show them the real life – she vowed to herself.

"You'll see, my dear, you'll soon find new friends," she told her. "In fact they're many young people living here," she added albeit knowing that Rose had been speaking about something else.

Rose didn't even look at her too shocked about what she was seeing.

Did her father really expect her to live here?

When Molly had moved out however, George closing the door behind them they knew that it was true.

They had to stay here.