Mature. Viewer Discretion is advised.
*The people inside of this work are FACE-CLAIMS. This has no correlation to any IRL individual.*
*This is messy plot. Made when I was a teen. Beware.*
The story of a young woman who finds her style, self worth...
"Be doing that shit nobody knows. In the streets they be thinking you a lady, but at home (u a motherfuckin' porn star)..." ♫ Rehab by Brent Faiyaz.
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"The girls are late."
Flipping his burner phone shut and stuffing it into his pocket, Zayn peeled the cigarette from his mouth and let the smoke filter out into the cold air, "Koi says they're coming down. Any minute now." He leaned against the rental SUV next to me, and straightened out his plain black button up that laid loosely underneath his expensive matte black, suede Versace suit, "You know how Koi is about her purse packing. She's gotta have her extra, extra, extra lip-gloss. Girl loses em' like quarters."
"Yeah, well, I don't wanna sit around all day waiting for them to come down, when we were supposed to be at the strip club a half hour ago..." Sitting inside of the drivers side of the SUV with my window down so that I could see the entrance to the hotel where the girl were supposed to emerge, I looked away from the doors, toward the bustling street where hookers were lining the corners.
"You take nearly twice the time to do your makeup as they do to do their hair, you just started earlier, so you can shut that trap and be patient." Niko scolded teasingly, standing outside smoking with Zayn. I was the only one actually inside of the car, Mikey was out there too, holding flowers for Kristen like it was the fucking prom. He was probably rehearsing what to say as well, fucking dork.
"Hey." I snapped at him quickly, pointing toward my eye with my finger right after, "You see this? This is clean, cut covergirl lines. It takes time, it takes practice. I don't just smudge my shit on like you and call it a fucking day. I have mastered the skilled art of applying eyeliner, and for your information, you half-wit, I also put on sparkly eyeshadow, so fuck you. I look fantastic."
"Hey, I may be smudged, but I still look better than you." Niko smirked, hollowing his cheeks around his cigarette.
"You literally look like a biker."
"A fuckable, hot biker. And who says that wasn't the look I was going for in the first place?" Niko raised his eyebrows as if to say 'fuck you too.'
"Eh.. but is it club worthy attire?" Zayn asked, tilting his head at Niko's outfit.
"What's wrong with my outfit?" Niko put his arms out and look down.
"Dude the girls are gonna come out soon, you guys need to shut the hell up." Mikey walked over with his stupid flowers, and eyed Niko's outfit, "Ok, bro, what the actual fuck are you wearing. A belt buckle? For a club? You realize Katrina's gonna be there right? We haven't seen her in a pretty long time and that's the impression you wanna make?"
"What is wrong with this!? This is what I wear all the time."
"That's what's wrong with it." I said, "Even I had the decency to wear leather pants with slits at the bottom, you know, switch it up a little bit. But you, you wear this every Tuesday. Do you wanna get laid or not?"
