CHRYSALIS

2.

The morning comes much too early and I groan as I hit the stop button on my alarm.

Why do I need this dreadful job again?... oh right... money. Must work the soul sucking job so I can have money to do.... nothing.

I stare blankly at myself in the mirror, trying to decide what to do with my light brown waves. They've been kissed just a bit by the sun and it gives them a pretty, natural highlight that is really exaggerated by my natural texture.

I decide to shower and do a full reset, complete with a fresh blowout that gives me some sleek volume in my mid-length hair and frames my face nicely as I paint it for the day.

This is my favorite part. Nicki does lashes on the side, but I freelance as a makeup artist. Right now I mostly assist, which is great because I learn so much and I also get to meet some celebrities. Which is totally chill and I'm very chill about the whole situation. Very chill. No heavy sweating or awkward laughing from me.

Liar.

"Now I'm searching every lonely place, every corner calling out your name..." I sing into the end of my eyeshadow brush before swirling the final blend of a nice, neutral, mauve in my crease. I flick a small winged liner on my lid and top off the look with some mascara and a natural pair of false lashes.

My work look is always more dramatic than my everyday, but the salon requires us too have a certain "vibe."

I step back from the mirror just in time to hit the best part of the next song, currently blaring from my small speaker. I flip my hair back as I yell out, "Yeah, I been watching you all night, there's something in your eyes.."

Nicki opens the bathroom door to tell me shut up but I shake my ass at her before she gets a chance and she laughs while I passionately attempt to hit all of Zayn's high notes.

We giggle at my ridiculousness while we make our way to the kitchen, she starts gathering the ingredients to makes each of us a piece of avocado toast while I pick out my all black outfit for work.

Today I went with black skinny jeans, a loose boxy black sweater, a black western style belt, and a short, chunky boot. I pop on some small, chunky silver hoops and my big silver rings to finish the look. I give myself a quick once over in the mirror, turning to see how my ass looks in these jeans...

A little flat if we are being honest...

Making a mental note to do some squats in the shower or something, I head into the kitchen just in time to top my toast with a few red pepper flakes and some salt before I add just the thinnest drizzle of honey over it.

We may be two broke ass ladies in a tiny apartment, but we know how to eat.

"What time are you off tonight? I think Frankie and Santana want to go that new, fake dive bar that opened up a few blocks from them." Nicki asks me with a mouth full of toast.

"I'm supposed to be done at 6 but I'll probably have to help the night girl set up. " I roll my eyes.

"I know she's Veronica's daughter, but she's 18! She has the attention span of a fucking flee! She's only there for 3 hours a night, I don't understand how she makes such an absolute mess of-"

"So are you coming to the bar or what?" Nicki looks at me with her eyebrows raised again, annoyed with my rambling but pretty used to it by this point.

I shoot her a pointed look while I suck the tip of each finger, dramatically cleaning them off while I make her wait for my response.

You are going. You never go out anymore and you are in desperate need of a good time.