Afterglow ❃ l.m.j

• chapter sixteen •

"Hey, Peach, sorry I saw you run in here, we have a client requesting me and you and..." Stefanie's voice traveled through the bathroom door and in between the four walls as her heels clicked on the linoleum. She stopped short of her sentence when she saw me rubbing at my eyes. "What happened, what's wrong?"

I cleared my throat and shook my head. I knew if I looked at her, I would cry. Instead, I focused on curling my eyelashes. The obvious sat in the room like a spectator, grilling and groaning for a show. I didn't even have the heart to entertain it.

Stefanie wasn't leaving without an answer. She folded her arms and leaned against the counter beside me.

"Is it me? Did I do something?"

My voice came out weak and gutted. "No. You know I'd talk to you if it was."

"Rosé?"

"No. It's not you guys."

"Then who? What is it? Is it too personal?"

I looked down, rummaging through my makeup bag to save the tears. "Yeah. It's something like that."

The black woman nodded slowly. "Okay... Okay, well, we don't have to talk about it now. But you know I'm here for you." She walked over and gently pushed my hands away so she could take it upon herself to reapply my makeup. I solemnly let her.

My eyes were downcast towards the black garters on my thighs. Her finger tapped the bottom of my chin.

"Chin up." She mumbled. A few seconds passed and she spoke again. "I came in here to tell you that a client specifically requested me and you. Doesn't want anything too interactive - doesn't want us to touch him at all actually. He just wants to watch."

"Of course he does." I rolled my eyes. She set my jaw before going back to primping my face. "I hope you quoted him for all he's worth."

"Babe, he's giving us enough for both of our sets combined. You know if I'm gonna be gay for pay, I want top dollar. Plus, don't tell the other girls I said this, but you, Rosé, and I are the sexiest bitches in this club. This place would crumble without us. We need clientele tipping us like we're fucking Beyonce."

"So, Destiny's Child, essentially." I quipped.

"Why is it that every time there's more than one person, we have to be Destiny's Child? We can all be Beyoncé. I mean, not literally, but like, figuratively for sure. Besides, if we were Destiny's Child, I'd actually vouch to be Kelly. Beyonce can't even breathe without a billion tweets about how good the air was. I like my space."

"Right, I'm sorry, the three Beyoncé's. Well, two Beyoncé's and a Kelly...?" I did my best to crack a smile. Her matching gaze seemed tighter than mine - determined. She gripped my lip pencil in her hand.

"I don't know what or who you're crying about, but I already know they don't deserve you."

"I—" Defeated, I slumped against the counter. "Thanks, Stef."

When she finished, she pursed her lips, surveying her look. Then a triumphant nod. She looked me square in the eyes and placed her hands softly on my cheeks.

"Are you sure you can do this? Don't be afraid to say you don't wanna go out there. We can always go talk to Ally."

I cleared my throat, shaking my head. "It's okay... I came to work, I can handle it. You, um, you said we have a client? Tell me about them."