Only Sad Girls Smoke

2

Aliyah arrived at the entrance to her apartment after the 25-minute Uber drive. She happily walked into the familiar lobby, taking in the scent of the fresh lavenders. "Hi Gonzalo!" She greeted the doorman.

"Miss Arazi, how are you these days?" he replied in his Spanish accent, taking off his hat and slightly bowing. He was still as chirpy as when she had first met him.

"I am Mrs. Zohair these days." She replied to herself as the elevator door closed. She sighed. The lift escalated up to the eleventh floor.

The apartment complex was perfect. It was sleek, modern, with a clean white finish. It was situated in the heart of Mayfair, and she loved her little secret haven. Her Attica. She bought it before her first year at university - of course with her father's money. My God, three years went by fast! She walked into the spacious living room, enjoying the familiar view of the river Thames and the neighbouring apartments. One reason she had purchased this very apartment block, was due to its view. Of course, the gigantic windows that acted as the fourth wall to the space had also convinced her into purchasing it.

She stripped her attire and changed into a pair of shorts and a hoodie. Finally feeling the best she had felt in a while, she relaxed onto the sofa.

-

"Aliyah! Al! Ali!"

Aliyah groaned as she stretched. Has it even been five minutes? She fluttered her eyes open and froze. She screamed. Four heads were peering down at her, blocking her entire view.

"Jesus! Calm down, darling." Evangeline muttered whilst walking away, with a cigarette in her mouth, a bottle of wine in her right hand and a flute glass in the other. She settled down on the sofa next to Aliyah, crossing her legs. The Greek, goddess-like woman was dressed in a sheer, almost transparent red dress, which accentuated her black lingerie underneath. Aliyah wasn't surprised at the fact that Evangeline wore a pair of black cat-eyed sunglasses indoors, but, she was yet again, mesmerised by her bright, blood-red lips. Evangeline flipped her unruly dark brown curls, before inhaling her cigarette. Exhaling, she poured the red liquid into the flute glass, before handing the glass to Behati, and taking a swig from the bottle. She smiled feeling content, taking another drag from her cigarette.

"It's not even noon and you're already drunk, Eva." Behati muttered, taking a sip from her glass and settling onto the opposite sofa. The Venezuelan, light-skinned black beauty, who was dressed in a pink floral jumpsuit and bright magenta heels, rolled her eyes. She offered the drink to an Aysel who shook her head before settling onto the white fur rug.

"Oh, darling." Evangeline dramatically began in her astute, aristocratic English accent, taking another swig from the bottle and gracefully laying her long legs on the sofa. "How can one become drunk, if one was not sober to begin with?" She slid her shades down to the tip of her nose, glancing seductively at Behati. "And I, for one, am never sober." She shuddered, horrified at the thought of sobering up, before taking another swig.

"Aliyah, what are you doing here?" Rinko, the half Japanese half Dutch, who had settled her self onto the fur rug, with a cigarette in one hand and a glass of what Aliyah assumed was Prosecco in the other, asked nonchalantly. "Don't tell me you have already gotten yourself kicked out." She was dressed in, as per usual, an all black ensemble, looking sultrily edgy. Thick black liquid lined her eyes - a stark contrast to her pale, porcelain skin. She blew a ring of smoke, before taking a sip from her glass.

"Ali, darling, please tell me that you've caught yourself in a magnificent scandal!" Evangeline sat up on the sofa. "I wont take any other reply other than..." she stopped, pondering. Then, her eyes lit up. "Than, that you slept with your-father-in-law! And as the sun rose in the morning, the two of you were found, by his wife, wrapped in the finest Egyptian silk sheets, which of course belonged to her, and in the tanned, muscular arms of her breath-takingly gorgeous husband. It was forbidden love, and neither of you could resist the attraction..." She moaned, then gasped, removing her shades. "Or even better! You couldn't resist the tempting, sexy, sensual brother of your husband, or even better, borthers, and-and, when the clock struck midnight, you found your self riding his, their, thick, throbbing, immaculately groome-"