Piss Off, This Is My Money

6

One of the worst things about all this? Everyone already knows what’s going on in your head. Five months. Five fucking months of being filmed without even realizing it. Every word, every careless thought—they watched it all.

And the things that hit hardest? Not the big dreams you blabbed about. No. It’s the tiny shit. The things you cared about. The stuff that mattered.

Oh, fuck… thinking about it made Jace want to rip his own hair out. He actually loved Maya. Loved her. And now? Laughable. She wasn’t even eighteen. Twenty. Twenty years old. Her parents ran one of the largest companies in Brooklyn.

And… fuck!

Jace slammed the car door and stormed toward the studio Maya used to edit her videos. Big place. Big enough to store all the gear that had secretly recorded his life.

He got to the gate. Two security men snapped to attention.

“You can’t enter without an appointment,” one of them barked.

“And if you’re here to cause trouble, leave. Miss Maya will contact you if needed,” the second added.

Jace’s eyes blazed, scanning them both. Menacing.

“Beware. If you do anything dangerous, the cops will come. And Maya isn’t someone you can mess with,” one of the security guys warned, thinking Jace might pull a lighter and torch the whole building. Emotional wreck, clearly.

“Does she know I’m not someone she can mess up with either?” Jace shot back, eyes blazing.

“Well… I don’t know about that, but you should leave right now,” the security guy said, stepping forward as if to shove him.

“If he won’t leave, use the taser on him!” the manager barked from the balcony on the second floor.

Jace’s eyes went ice cold. “Come down here and talk to me!”

“You fool. Think I’ve got time for you? Go before the security team handles you. You don’t want to spend whatever money you got from her settlement paying hospital bills,” the manager spat, storming inside. “By the way… I heard about the suit. Won’t tell you to drop it. Best lawyers are on standby. Security, throw him out.”

One of the guards brought the taser closer. “This hurts more than you see in movies,” he said.

Two inches away, the man staggered backward, someone kicked him. His head hit the wall—CRACK!—and he tumbled to the ground like a cartoon.

Jace looked up. The owner of the building had arrived.

Before this, Jace had already called the owner, offering ten times the monthly rent Maya was paying.

The owner came with his bodyguards, one of whom delivered a swift kick to the groin of the guard who tried to mess with Jace.

“Good afternoon, Mr. Jace,” the owner said, smiling, extending his hand.

One thing Jace figured out in the last four hours: the one with the money is always the one called “sir” and “Mr.” If you’ve got nothing, puff — you’re invisible.

Jace took the man’s hand. “Thanks for honoring my call.”

“No, sir, I’m the one who’s grateful. You’re offering way more than anyone ever offered for this building.”

Jace smiled.

“What are you still doing here?” the owner snapped at the second security man standing in their way.

The man’s head dropped instantly. You didn’t need a pamphlet to know this landlord was one of the richest men around. One wrong move and your whole fucking life could end upside down.

The owner walked in with Jace, two bodyguards trailing behind them.

Jace had only one goal right now—to destroy Maya. In front of all her followers. All the idiots she built her whole brand off him with.

Her manager was summoned and showed up in seconds.

“Welcome, sir,” he greeted the landlord, not noticing Jace at first. “What could have brought you here, sir?”

“I want you to pack out of here right now. I found someone else to take the space.” The landlord pointed at Jace.

The manager’s eyes finally landed on Jace. He frowned. A joke? He looked back at the landlord. “Sir…?”

“Should I repeat myself?”

“Not quite, sir. But… did you say he wants to purchase this building?”

“You heard correctly.”

“But we can’t just pack out without prior notice,” the manager argued. “I mean, this dude here can’t even afford the money we used in purchasing this place. He’s a broke—”

“Pack your shit right now,” the owner cut in, voice cold.

“Sir—”

“Our contract says you move out the moment I find someone who can pay more than you. Right?”

“Yes, sir.” The manager was already sweating; packing out now would fuck up everything. He turned to Jace. “What the hell do you think you’re doing? You think this stunt will make us beg a broke idiot like you? We basically helped your life! We brought you to the view of people you’d NEVER meet!”

Jace blinked at him, then looked at the landlord. “Why is he rapping? Did you tell him to rap?”

“I’m surprised too,” the landlord said.

“Sir, don’t listen to this idiot—”

“Guys, throw their stuff out,” the landlord instructed calmly.

His men bowed and started heading inside.

The manager rushed after the guards, but he was no match. They kicked him aside like a rag doll, sending him sliding across the floor.

He scrambled up and staggered toward Jace. “You can’t just decide to do this! Do you want to regret this???”

“That’s what you think?” Jace asked, voice dripping with fake politeness. “That I’ll regret this?”

“Stop them right now!” the manager snapped.

“You should be apologizing,” Jace muttered.

A car trunk slammed open outside. At first, the manager didn’t understand—until the crash came.

He sprinted out.

The men on the second floor were tossing equipment straight out the window.

A massive plasma TV flew down and exploded into the open trunk like it was nothing.

In horror, the manager bolted back to Jace. “Do you know how much those COST???” he screeched.

“You should’ve thought about how much my life cost before you filmed it for the whole fucking world,” Jace spat, completely unmoved.

“Do something, sir!” the manager barked at the landlord.

“I’m sorry,” the landlord said calmly, “but Mr. Jace wants everything cleared out in under five minutes. This is the only way to hit his deadline.”

The manager ran outside again—only to witness twenty million worth of gadgets getting destroyed in seconds. His vision blurred. His knees buckled.

He fainted, collapsing face-first in his overpriced three-piece suit.