ʟɪᴛᴛʟᴇ ꜱᴛᴀʀ-ɢɪʀʟꜱ.

01 - Thursday, Feb 1st

Feb 1st, 2024

'Is this worth dying over?'

'Yeah, yep.'

'Probably.' The third muttered in response, pushing the tip of her spoon against the edge of a floating pink marshmallow in her warm cup of hot chocolate, letting it sink under the warm brown substance to melt silently.

The first of the trio, who had asked the initial question, slumped further in her seat and adjusted the dark shades over her eyes to keep out the burning sunlight on the exhausted state of her under-eyes; allowing them to bask under darkness for the remainder of the early morning.

And by early morning, it was no later than 12pm, as the three girls slumped further in their seats to disrupt their usual posture, headaches pounding and ears ringing against the burning sunlight beaming across the wintry scope of an early February day.

Nothing about this Thursday seemed positive at all, let alone its ability to provide them with the energy to attend their afternoon lecture which began at the epicentre of lunch-time. Instead they drooped like blobs of clay in their seats at the front of a local cafeteria in the bustling city, and kept their eyes peeled behind their dark shades for someone remotely attractive to ogle.

In every instance, most would assume that they were heavily drunk, sipping on hot chocolates, mochas and chai tea latte's (even though 'chai' meant 'tea'), and eating baked pastries to get thoroughly sober before their lecture.

Despite this (not so obvious) predicament, they were quite clearly and obviously not drunk. In fact, their bank accounts were so barren; to buy a bottle of alcohol was to starve for the next weekend. Instead, they had rendered about 3.5 hours of sleep, considering they had spent a good 80 percent of their nightly rest on Omegle, in hopes of finding a suitable sugar daddy for their dying student funds.

No joke.

And yet, they remained single, their dying funds wheezing from the ends of their accounts and their brains skittish everytime they tapped their card in hopes they didn't have to do a shamed walk of declinement out of the building.

'I suddenly feel like an idiot for spending our money on a trip to London for partying.' Maria mumbled, shuffling about to straighten her posture when sitting up just a little more in her seat.

Maria Allen was the youngest of the three, with short brown hair to her shoulders and choppy bangs that she cut herself, which somehow curled naturally with the power of God. Her skin was tanned lightly, her eyes deep like the mocha in her iced cup, and an attitude far below that of a 19-year-old. She adjusted the frames of her strangely hexagonal glasses, the rim golden in colour when pushing it up against the bridge of her nose to exude her energy to the remainder of her slumped trio.

'You think?' Sadie Scobell grovelled; a shorter girl with hair the colour of cherry coke and wide round green forest-like eyes with tanned skin. The attitude laced on her tongue was far beyond that of Maria's, and yet, her care-free attitude was most definitely the reason that the other two had not been stuck in constant wheels around the worst of humanity's men.

'We should think about saving our next payment.' Lana Peters, the third and final of their trio, adjusting her heart-shaped sunglasses down to give the other two a look of disbelief as she spoke. She was a pretty girl, the tallest of the three and slightly thin with longer hair drawn back with a golden pin, between the colour of cherry-coke and russet-brown. Her eyes were rounded softly and greyish-blue in colour, with a sweet demeanour radiating from her warm, pale complexion.

'Thank God we have jobs, or I think my mum would've passed out when my bank statement arrived.' Maria groaned quietly, resting her right leg over the left when rocking her foot softly in anticipation under the little rounded table between them.