Back in the car, Luke pulls out without a word this time. “Uh, Luke, where are we going?”

“Oh! Sorry, I was going to go back to the house. I figured we were finished with the shopping.”

“Oh.” I sit back and look back at the road in front of us.

“I’m sorry, did you want to do something else? I didn’t think about asking, was all.” He turns his head towards me but doesn’t take his eyes off the road except to glance at me.

“Nah, I’m good.” Thankfully, we spend the rest of the car ride in silence.

He pulls in front of my fabulous prison and turns off the engine. He reaches down and pops the trunk open before opening his door and stepping out. I follow his lead and start to walk to rear end.

We both grab the absurd amount of bags and begin to walk towards the door when suddenly a shrill voice pierces my brain. “Luke! How are you, sweet child?” Looking over, a woman who would look to be around 60 - if it weren’t for all the work she’d clearly had done - was walking her ludicrously small dog toward us. She was dressed too well to be walking her mop-head with legs (or whatever-the-fuck it is) but I guess that’s just how things are, here.

“Oh hello, Mrs. Howell.” Luke, to my dismay, stops dead in his tracks and turns to the old woman I could already tell I was gonna hate. He crouches down to look at the dog and greets it too. “And hello Mr. Snuffles.” He’s smiling but that name makes me want to punt that dog across the street.

‘Mrs. Howell’ looks at me with intrigue before looking down to Luke with a grin that I don’t like the look of. “Who’s your handsome friend here, Luke? And please, it’s Martha.”

Luke stands up looking confused for a moment before remembering that I’m still behind him. His smile grows again. “Oh, this is Charlie! He’s my new butler. Say hi, Charlie.”

“Hi.” I deliver the greeting as unenthused as I possibly could. “I’m tired of holding these bags. Can we go inside?”

Martha acts shocked at my attitude and gives a concerned glare to Luke. “He seems a little young to be a butler… And a little too rude as well.” I had half a mind to start cussing her out right there.

Luckily for her, Luke started speaking first. “Haha, yes I know. I’m training him. The poor boy used to be homeless and I wanted to give him a second chance.” Poor boy?! GIVE ME a second chance?! I was seconds from cussing him out now.

“Oh, you really are a sweetheart Luke. I wish you the best of luck.” She looks me with a slightly worried face. “And it was nice to meet you, Charlie.”

I raise an unamused eyebrow. “Yeah.” She walks on past us and Luke heads up the steps to unlock the front door.

Once inside, he drops the bags and begins punching a code into the panel on the wall. “You know, Charlie, you’re going to have to be a bit more polite to people if you want to be a good butler.”

I tilt my head and let out an annoyed sigh. “I don’t want to be a butler.”

“Very funny. Let’s get these bags into your room.” I wasn’t joking.

When we get back into my room, I drop the bags by the wall and start to sit down when Luke’s voice cuts me off. “Aren’t you going to put these away?”

“Why? I can just take them out of the bags if I need them.” I shrug my shoulders. “That’s just an extra, stupid step.”

“Normal people put their clothes away in closets and dressers so they don’t get dirty or wrinkly, Charlie.”

“Fine, whatever, I’ll do it later… Wait.” I look at him angrily. He looks innocent and confused. “Did you just say ‘normal people?’”

“Yes, why?” He doesn’t get it.

“Are you saying I’m not normal? Are you saying that homeless people aren’t ‘normal?’ I guess poor people aren’t ‘normal’ either, huh?” I start walking towards him burning with rage.

“No that’s not-”

“Shut the fuck up! That’s exactly what you meant and you know it!” I’m in his face now. “That’s your fucking problem! People are fucking people, Luke! What’s not ‘normal’ is that rich fucking assholes like you seem to think that everyone else is below you! That we’re a charity case! News flash, ass hat, I’m not your charity case! I’m your victim.”

He looks scared. Good. “Charlie, people don’t live like that. It’s not right-”

“It’s not right?! People don’t live like that?! I’m fucking proof that some people don’t have a choice in the matter!” I can’t control myself anymore. I ball my hand into a fist and swing for the side of his head.

Before my fist can hit his smug face, my whole body tenses up. I can’t move. The pain of the shock shoots through my body as I stare at him with all of my anger. A second later the shock subsides and I collapse, my body still exhausted by my injuries. On all fours, I look up at him, not an ounce of anger missing. “I’m sorry, Charlie. I really am. I’ll leave you be for a while so you can calm down.” He walks away and shuts the door. I hear a click. He’s locked me in.