Sauvage | Jeon Jungkook

Forty-Seven

"You're absolutely right. Just say it." Lizzie agrees.

I remember last week she asked about the red lipstick that Jungkook loves so much when I wear it. But I couldn't remember the number or name of the color, so I wanted to send it to her as a message.

Seems like I forgot because I was so tired that day that I collapsed onto the bed. Also, I was staying at Jungkook's place so I couldn't have told her even if I wanted to because the lipstick was in my apartment.

So it's not like I purposely didn't tell her or didn't want her to buy the same lipstick. I know some people don't like it when other people purchase the same stuff they own, but I don't have a problem with it.

Vanessa and I have different complexions. She is blonde, I have black hair. The lipstick would look different on her than on me anyway.

"You know, and let's keep this between you and me." Lizzie warns, and I hear Vanessa humming in understanding. "Sometimes I feel like Mikayla isn't as nice as she makes herself out to be. Like, nobody's that nice, right?"

"Oh my God, yes! Finally someone who thinks the same way I do." Vanessa laughs and I hear makeup products clicking on the marble sinks.

"It almost borders on pick-me behavior." Lizzie's voice is so full of distaste that it shocks me to the point that I almost audibly gasp, but I slap a hand over my mouth. "You need help? Let me help. Is that a new haircut? It looks good, and blah blah. Like, I get it, you're sweet."

"And the way she sucks up?" Vanessa giggles mockingly and Lizzie groans. I can imagine she just rolled her eyes. "Especially to our bosses."

"Yeah, good thing you brought it up." Lizzie sounds more excited now, her voice quieter almost a whisper even. "I have a suspicion she's got something going on with one of them."

Vanessa gasps loudly. "You really think so?" she asks, and Lizzie hums.

"That would explain why, out of all the others, she was chosen as the new creative director," Lizzie explains as if solving a mystery. "She's an average worker."

Vanessa lets out a thoughtful sound. "You think she fucked her way to the top?" she asks, and that's all it takes to break my heart into a thousand pieces. 

All I can do is stand in the stall and listen to them talk about me. I want to open the door, expose them for talking trash about me, but something stops me. Maybe it's my trembling hand or the tears I'm trying to hold back.

"Could be," Lizzie responds, and I imagine her shrugging her shoulder. She packs up what I assume is a make-up bag. "Let's head back, I have a lot of things to do."

And with that, I hear the door open and close. I'm in complete silence now, but it's so loud my ears are ringing. I tuck my blouse back into my skirt, the urge to pee now completely gone. Quietly opening the door of the toilet stall and checking if I am alone, I step out.

All this time I thought that Lizzie was my friend and that we got along well, but it seems that I was the only one who considered our friendship honest and sincere. I wish she said all her thoughts and dislike toward me to my face instead of talking behind my back.

But aside from just being betrayed by a friend, I can't help but have her words repeated in my head. Pick-me. No one is that nice. Fucked her way up.

I grab the edge of the sink and look at myself in the mirror. Am I really all that?

Puffing out my cheeks, I wash my hands and dry them before leaving the bathroom. Walking back to my desk, I see Megan still standing there looking through the documents.