MONEY, MONEY, MONEY! jj maybank

022. cat's ass

WHEN COLA WAS ANGRY, everyone knew what she liked to do. Work. So it was no surprise that she spent the rest of the day clocking up a shift in the golf course, her bad mood apparent in the way that she treated her co-workers. Usually, she at least pretended to be kind - Cola put up this facade of being a sweet innocent girl from the Cut that everyone believed, but she couldn't help the snappy remarks that left her mouth now and then.

Maybe John B was right. Maybe she was a money-obsessed freak, but it wasn't her fault she'd grown up to be like that. What annoyed her so much was that he knew that - John B knew because he was there.

He had been there when Cola was begging his dad for money to spare when she was thirteen, unable to pay her bills when her father had suddenly stopped sending her money with a short period of time. He had been there watching as Cola persisted for Mr. Heyward to give her extra deliveries - he had been there from the very start where things started to turn into shit.

And maybe it was just a heat of the moment thing because of the situation they were in, and maybe was right - that she was obsessed a but fuck, it still hurt.

The strange part is, the more she made from working several shifts at the Country Club and emptying Gucci wallets, the more preoccupied she got with money. When she was on her feet without her father's help and didn't need to think about money as much, Cola found herself starting to think about it increasingly.

That's the thing - money corrupts the mind. More money doesn't make you happier. Having money only drives you to try to get more of it.

"Guinto." Her boss called out to her all of a sudden, just before she was about to clock out of the Club. "Next time, tell your friends that they can't visit looking like trash, got it?"

Friends? Cola paused, not knowing if she should just leave so that she'd get her bike from the handyman before it goes dark or question her boss. "What do you mean my friends, ma'am?"

"They're outside looking waiting for you." her boss pointed out to the clear windows that had a view of the parking lot - and there stood Kiara and Pope, waving at her when they notice that Cola was staring.

They look fine, don't be a fucking prick. "I'm sorry about that," Cola mumbled, re-adjusting her polo before shooting her boss another forced smile. "I'll be leaving now, ma'am."

With a curt nod, her boss exits the lobby and walks into the bar - Cola assumed that she was about to wallow in drinks and self-pity. Nonetheless, she ran outside in a rush in fear of her other customers seeing her and making weird comments.

"What the hell are you guys doing here?" Cola hissed, grabbing both Kiara and Pope and dragging them in the truck. "What the fuck, guys?"

"You don't have a ride. Pope said we should pick you up."

"I have a ride," Cola remarked, eyeing Pope for a single second before reminding herself - she was supposed to be mad at her friends. "So go."

"You'd walk ten miles just so you can keep avoiding us?"

Cola gave Pope a pointed look. "You don't know the lengths I'd be willing to go through, Pope. Where's thing three?"

Thing three being John B — she had only noticed that the boy wasn't present a few seconds into the conversation.

"I actually have no idea," Pope shrugs.