Flashback
"You. Belong. To. Me." His slimey voice whispered in my ear.
I was always taught to never show weakness. So that's what I did. My face remained expressionless and emotionless despite the bruises I felt on my body and the blood I felt trickling down my skin.
He held a blade up to my throat and my eyes widened and my body halted. He wanted a response.
I would never give him the one he wanted.
End of Flashback
My iced coffee swishes around the plastic cup and my hands shake and the rest of my body remains frozen. I frantically look around for his long brown hair and scrawny body, but the only people I see are a frail old woman and the middle-aged cashier. As I'm looking around, I hear the door chime, and I snap my head around to the sound. I relax when I see my best friend coming to me.
Her smile is bright and her led lipstick creates a strong contrast against her porcelain skin. Her red bob bounces as she skips towards me.
"Are you okay? You look like you've seen a ghost." She says.
No, I'm not okay.
I send her a rehearsed nod and smile, "Yeah, just really tired."
She looks skeptical, but doesn't push more, which I'm thankful for.
"Okay," She says, dragging out the word. "Which store do you wanna go to first?" She questions excitedly, changing the subject.
I shrug. "I was thinking about Gucci and then Prada?" I offer.
"Okay! Let me just get my latte and then we can go." She says giddily and walks up to the register.
She comes back a few minutes later with her drink in hand.
"Let's go." I say.
We walk the few minutes to Prada and step in. When we enter, the workers automatically take caution of us, presumably stereotyping us based off our clothing. They follow us around for a few aisles, unnoticable to most people, but extremely obvious to me, who can detect when highly skilled assassins are watching from a mile away.
I'm about to turn around and confront them, when the manager of the store, my "friend" Melissa, comes up to us. The workers seem to tense around her presence, which is understandable considering her controlling attitude.
"Evelyn!" She exclaims, using my fake name, although she isn't aware of it's falsity. The workers give her bewildered looks as she pulls me into a hug, which I don't return in the slightest.
"Hey, Melissa." I say, giving her a tight-lipped smile. For some reason, she thinks we're best friends just because I come to the store a lot. News flash! We're not.
A scowl comes across her face as she looks at her employees. "What are you doing just standing there? Get back to work!" She shouts at them. They scramble back to their duties and Melissa turns back to me with an incredibly fake grin plastered on her face. "Sorry about them."
Me and Clem share a judgmental glance and both turn back to shopping, away from Melissa.
For the next hour, I look through the various pieces and garments, stopping every few minutes to consult with Clem.
She's currently holding up a pale pink oversized button-down shirt. "What do you think?" She asks.
I look at it for a few seconds. "I think you'll look like sexy cotton candy." I reply, smirking.
