"We live in a generation of not being in love, and not being together. But we make it feel like we're together because we're scared, to see each other with somebody else"
- Drake, doing it wrong.
Suggested song: Loveit by Marian Hill_________________________________________________________________
HER arms mount to the air as she embraces me in a very tight cuddle, her delighted squeals inarticulate over the turbulent traffic which New York offers its citizens.
"We haven't seen you in such a long time" Scarlett's Brooklyn accent purrs, her coffee-colored eyes kindling up with enthusiasm.
"I know right?" Isabella hollers loudly, freeing me from her firm grip, she guides me to their plush, black leather couches which certainly Scarlett had chosen.
"So" Scarlett sits down in front of me, her dazzling white teeth glimmering from between her vivid red lipstick "How's your flight, tell us, tell us"
"Shitty, how are your jobs?" I accept Scarlett's tea, the tea which had effortlessly had me craving to taste at the end of the day at Highschool. My lips purse on the pink, floral vintage cup, allowing nostalgia to fill from the tip of my toes to the top of my head.
"I'm working as a stylist" Isabella responds contemptuously, her appearance is strikingly different: her red hair is a swab on top of her pasty skin, her blue lipstick is almost blinding, and several tattoos tint her arms, yet her soft hazel eyes and her amiable smile has made no effort to departure.
"I'm a forensic psychologist," Scarlett's strong voice says. She too, has changed over the past year I have seen them, her brown hair has been bleached into a soft blonde, her skin has gotten several shades paler, and unlike old times, her clothing had morphed to become unmistakably conservative
I snort "Finally gave up on dancing, Scarlett?"
Scarlett ignores me, Isabella speaks up "Are you going to get a job, Jasmine?"
I pull at the rogue black string of my leggings, my drab hoodie is still unpleasantly damp on my back, and hasn't ceased to dry since I have gotten out of the plane. "Yeah, I've got a job interview tomorrow"
"It's Sunday tomorrow" Isabella blinks
"I know" I roll my eyes, I sink back on the couch and close my eyes "What's the time?"
"Five" Scarlett answers
Happy hour, my lips morph into a smile, it's almost as if a chain with unforeseen bad ideas had starkly crashed into my brain, I grin haughtily up at them.
My two sisters gawk at each other like I am astonishingly and utterly foolish, and perhaps I am.
"You have a job interview tomorrow, a proper job interview and you want to clubbing?" Scarlett's jaw hangs open
"I'm really craving tequila" I sigh, raising my hands to my forehead "I'm borrowing a dress, Scarlett"
"Make sure its not from the brown chest" Scarlett called out to me "Those are the lap dance ones and they show your tittes"
I hear my laughter stream throughout the apartment, I can already feel my spirit lifting up.
***
"Easy, darling" Isabella snatches away my pink strawberry vodka and presses it to a sweaty, swaying body behind us. My head is swirling, and to say that I am drunk, would be the understatement of the century.
YOU ARE READING
Jasmunzel
RomanceHe was a greedy young man who could easily infatuated the world, a repugnnt attitude that he liked to flash the world. Engrossed with money, wealth, sex and fame, the idea love seemed nothing more than a synonym of extinction, that is, until he meet...
