Statistically speaking, Richard Newton had it all. He was 24, good-looking, fit, and obscenely rich. His parents were the majority holders of CoolCola, a Forbes top 10 company, valued at hundreds of billions, which he and his baby brother were poised to inherit. To top it all, his parents were loving and supportive, always finding time for him.

  But contrary to all this evidence, Richard didn't consider himself lucky.

  It all started when he was 13. He and his two best friends, Frank and James, were hanging out in one of their favorite malls. Although not the best place for future billionaires, they liked to pretend to be normal teenagers. Their favorite pastime was people watching—creating silly stories about them or simply judging their looks and attire.

  Like many times before, they were perched at the second floor railing, looking down at the crowd below while sipping cheap sodas.

  As an experienced people watcher, Richard instantly noticed two girls their age window shopping—one dark-haired and a little plump, the other blonde with an athletic figure. Intrigued, he elbowed Frank.

  "Look at the blonde near the Gucci store. She's really cute."

  "Not bad, but I've seen better," said Frank after checking them out.

  "Sure you have," replied Richard with dripping sarcasm.

  After thinking a little bit, James chimed in, "Go ask her out."

  "Are you crazy? Go ask her out yourself," said Richard defensively, surprised by the sudden change of topic.

  Smelling blood in the water, James continued his attack.

  "I don't think she's cute, you do. Or are you afraid?" James said, punctuating his argument with mocking chicken sounds.

  Feeling he had no way out, Richard made an audible sigh and tried to at least get something out of this situation.

  "Sure, no big deal, but after this you are going to ask a girl out of my choosing, deal?"

  Waving the provocation off with one hand, James clapped Richard on his back with a devilish grin.

  "Go Romeo, no time to waste, your Juliet is waiting for you."

  Feeling another sigh creeping out, Richard dramatically took a last sip from his soda and gave it to Frank, moving in the direction of the girls.

  Wanting to be done with this embarrassing situation as fast as possible, he power walked towards the girls, waving his hands to get their attention.

  As the girls looked at him with confusion in their eyes, Richard spoke to the blonde:

  "Hello, I'm Rich," he said, aiming for casual and probably missing by a mile. He gave her his best smile.

  "I saw you from the second floor. You're really cute."

  Reading on this site? This novel is published elsewhere. Support the author by seeking out the original.

  Nothing. The blonde just looked at him. Seeing no answer coming his way, Richard reined in his mounting nervousness and blurted out.

  "Can I get your number?"

  At first, the blonde girl looked a bit spooked, then when it dawned on her what Richard was asking, she gave him an apologetic smile and said

  "Sorry, I have a boyfriend," then, without giving Richard a chance to respond, she grabbed her friend's elbow and fled.

  A little bit stunned, Richard shook his head and got back to his two friends, who saw everything and were laughing their asses off. After some more fooling around, they decided to head off to Frank's home to play games.

  As they were leaving the mall, he saw the blonde girl with her friend waiting near the exit. A little bit panicking, he tried to evade them, but his friends, seeing the same thing, decided to box him in. Out of options, Richard pretended he didn't notice them, but contrary to his expectations, as the girls saw them, the blonde one jogged towards their group and spoke to Richard.

  "Hey—sorry for earlier, that was really unexpected and I panicked." She spoke fast, not giving Richard time to respond.

  "I'm Emily. You said you are Richard Newton, right?" she asked with a weird gleam in her eyes.

  After spacing out for an uncomfortable moment, and a nudge from James, Richard answered with a lame "Yes."

  "Great!" exclaimed the girl with relief in her voice. "Here is my number, I would love to get to know you better," said Emily, sharing her number. After giving him a dazzling smile, she excused herself and ran back to her friend.

  "What was that?" asked James.

  "No woman can resist my charm for long, that's what," boasted Richard, feeling like he was in the clouds.

  "You mean, no one can resist the Newton charm" said Frank with a wink.

  Richard didn't understand Frank's words then. But the pattern emerged soon enough: mention the Newton name, and watch people change. Their eyes, their posture, their sudden eagerness to please. And as he started to get older, he saw the simple truth.

  Everyone has a price.

  For a while, it was fun. An unlimited buffet of his favorite foods. But as the years started going by, Richard got more and more cynical and bored. Nothing was real. Every connection, every opportunity, every smile directed his way—all of it shadowed by the name Newton.

  Ten years later, Richard found himself in a dark alley where he and his friends were supposed to find their favorite dealer. Looking at the man in front of him, Richard was confused why his dealer, or was it someone else? was wearing a ski mask and pointing a gun at him.

  "Give me all you have, cash, jewelry, watches, or your family will have a closed-casket funeral. No strange movements or you're done for," spoke the robber.

  As his friends started to remove their valuables, Richard looked at the man and thought, 'What's his price?'

  It was reflex—the question he'd asked his whole life. Everyone had a price. Everyone could be bought, bargained with, outmaneuvered. But the math didn't work here.

  The realization hit like a truck. He wasn't the one asking the question anymore. The robber was. A simple gun—that was all it took to flip the power. And Richard's price, apparently, was his life. The robber held it in his hands, and if Richard wanted it back, he needed to empty his pockets.

  He looked at his friends—cowering, compliant, already beaten. Something hot and unfamiliar rose in his chest.

  "No," whispered Richard, "I won't be sold, I won't become like them." Walking a step forward, Richard did the only logical thing in this situation: he tried to slap the robber, as he didn't know how to throw a punch.

  His hand rose toward the robber's face—and then came the bang.

  Someone started screaming 'this will certainly alert others' thought Richard with schadenfreude as a strange sense of weightlessness overcame him.

  The darkness swallowed him whole. He was falling, plummeting from some impossible height, with the only other sensation being a strange static in his ears. "Maybe I shouldn't drink so much," thought Richard. As his descent continued, his thoughts and memories started to fade away, and the static started to increase in volume. At the very end, only one thought refused to let go, "Why, why, why… why was I... so unlucky," like a broken record repeating over and over.

  Time passed—a minute, maybe more—before his mind abruptly cleared, and he heard a booming voice.

  "So you think you were unlucky? That's the funniest thing I've heard in a long time. But don't worry, we can fix that," spoke the voice while trying to keep in his laughter.

  "Enjoy your next life, as a gift, keep your memories."