Cherry On Top

5.2

I bury my wet face in my hands as I slump onto the leather couch. The mask that I am required to wear at all times is thrown on the table. If anybody else were to walk in right now, I would definitely be fired.

As if reading my mind, RJ assures me, "Don't worry lah, I've got you covered. No one will see you."

She is sitting next to me, leaning forward just the right amount so her body blocks any line of sight from the door. I know that no one disturbs the VIP room unless there's a cry for help or a push of the emergency button, but I still appreciate her attempt to hide me.

My eyes trail down to her varsity jacket, and my cheeks burn at the blotch of dampness on her chest. I can't believe I spent ten minutes crying in her arms like a baby. The poor jacket must be so gross now.

"When... did you figure out?" I ask softly.

RJ averts her head from me. "It's super obvious lor. Your voice. The way you walk. Your face shape." There is a short pause. "Your lips."

My hands fly to my lips before they drop. "Oh... so obvious one ah?" I let out a nervous chuckle. I find myself pulling at the hem of my glittery dress. It is more than halfway up my thigh, and the more I pull, the shorter it seems to get. "Did you... Did you tell anybody?"

She snorts. "No. Do I look like a snitch?"

"N- No... but looks can be deceiving one, you know? I mean... you don't look like someone who would smoke weed."

"And you don't look like someone who would do a job like this."

I flinch at that comment, and RJ quickly adds, "Sorry." Her hand flies up, as though she wanted to place it on my shoulders, but it stops short, hovering awkwardly in the air instead. "I didn't mean that. I'm sorry."

My fists curl up more on my dress. I expected the shame that would come if I were ever found out by anybody in my life, but it still hurts a lot more than I imagined.

"You can think whatever you want about me for working here, but it's my life, okay?" I snap. "I need money, and this is the fastest way to get it."

RJ's frown deepens. "Why do you need the money?"

I frown as well. "Why do you want to know?" I remember Mango's assumption about my anonymous tipper, and I gasp. "Wait, you are the one who gave me that huge tip, right? Oh my god, RJ. Why are you doing this? Please don't do it again. And please don't come here again!"

"Why not? I want to come here. This is a great environment to do homework."

"This is not funny, RJ. If people see you coming here, what would they think?"

RJ slumps on the seat and spreads her arms out over the back of the couch. "Whatever lah. Fuck what other people think."

She said this yesterday too when Markus asked her about Jon. Does she really not care? Does she not worry that people will think that she's a... I recall the way Mango said the L-word in the afternoon, with so much disdain and vitriol, and I find myself recoiling at the memory. I don't want anybody to attack RJ like that, not when she is trying to help me.

"Please stop coming here, RJ," I whisper. "It will be... so bad for your reputation lah."

"Not really. At least I'm not, like, working here."

Again with the subtle shaming. I purse my lips. "What's wrong with you ah? You really hate that I'm working here? Yesterday, you were, like, glaring at the other guys all night lor."

"I wasn't glaring. I have a resting bitch face, that's all."

"I know your usual look. You were glaring."