Broke-Ish [Completed]

Chapter 5

PROSECCO PEASANTS

Yaz, Jasmine, Kara, Liv

Liv: Right ladies I'm back at it

Jasmine: Back at what?

Liv: Sugaring

Jasmine: Is that what they call it ?

Liv: That's what I call it

Jasmine: Shouldn't it be called 'being sugared?'

And what do you mean you're back at it back at it? Didn't know you'd quit

Yaz: She probably should after the last episode LOL

Jasmine: LMAO

Liv: Laugh all you want bitches I got another daddy lined up

Jasmine: Urgh that sounds so gross

Yaz: It does a bit, especially since your dad is actually around

Liv: Speaking of my dad he has a new girlfriend

Yaz: Another one??

Liv: Yep, Sharon. Wants me and Gee to go around Sunday for dinner

Ah man just forgot I need to text her back

Jasmine: Are you gonna go?

Liv: I don't know yet

Kara: Urgh you wouldn't believe the day I've had ladies we really need to meet up its been ages!!!

And Liv I thought you'd stopped all that, please be safe and I hope your dads well xx

I'm laying on Yaz's sofa, or Chaise Lounge as she insists on calling it. And as if it wasn't bad enough that it's crushed velvet it's also deep pink. Her whole place reminds me of a Barbie playhouse I got one Christmas when I was younger, everything is so bright and painfully sparkly and although she uses the word "vintage" to describe it, I always feel like it has a weird 80's porn movie vibe to it. I try not to come here too often for fear of a headache, at least not with my sunglasses anyway. But today I am here lying on her Chaise Lounge planning tomorrows date, if I can even call it that. It can't be a date date as you go on those with people you want to get know or if you want a free meal.

"Is it a date?"

"Hm?" She's engrossed In her phone, as usual.

"Is tomorrow a date, with Kymco46?"

"What kind of conversations are you having where you don't learn peoples names?"

"Better than the ones you're having," her eyes shoot over at me and I smile angelically in return. She screws the lid onto the wine bottle and rolls it across the fluffy carpet. When it reaches me I sit up, undo the lid and refill my glass with the '2 bottles for £5' delight. And if that isn't bad enough it's sweet white wine, the worst possible wine there is.

"I suppose it's kind of a date," she continues "But with a different motive,"

"Yeah I guess," I take a sip of the wine that tastes like headaches and lethargy and lay back. "Well, what do you think we should talk about?"

"Hm?"

"Tomorrow when I meet him, what should be talk about? I want it to go better than last time, I really want to make sure I get something out of it this time,"

"If you want it to go better than last time then don't drink and ermm maybe read the Financial Times or something, I don't know," she waves her hand to silence me before returning to her phone. The Financial Times hmm, that's not a bad shout. I suppose it's reasonable that I'm expected to be able to contribute something to the conversation but asides from the crap we had to read in school I've never read anything, other than real life and celeb magazines, in my life and even those are a push. I open my phone and tap in Financial Times and wait for it to load urgh. First thing I'm getting out of this is a new phone. When it finally finishes loading I scroll down the page. Some bank is being fined for breaching a law I didn't know existed, a car manufacturing company is going into liquidation or administration, an MP has been arrested then released and somethings happening with the state pensions or housing prices, maybe both. The most shocking things about these headlines is that people actually read the full articles, voluntarily.