The rest of my week continues in the more mundane fashion I'm use to. With the exception of my erratic emotional crying fits that consume me in the later periods of the day. But for the most part my life has slipped back into its usual quiet self while I figure out what my life is to consist of now.
I've applied to a ball park of fifty different jobs so far and have heard nothing back from any of them. Tiffany assures me it takes a good week or two before applicants receive anything back. I'm not sure how she would know though, the girl has never worked a day in her life.
I met Tiff my first day at uni. We sat next to each other in our Art History lecture, where she proceeded to tell me she was only in the class to get some inspiration for her fashion major and wasn't taking the academic side too seriously. Because to be honest even without a fashion degree, Tiffany's parents would be able to set her up with her own label. But they felt more comfortable to say their daughter had some kind of education to back up their inevitable involvement in their daughters success.
However despite Tiffany and myself coming from completely different backgrounds and upbringings we still managed to forge a friendship.
"What time will you be arriving babes?" Tiff's voice comes through my phone sitting on my dresser as I focus on drawing the black lines over my eyelids.
"Like half an hour? I still have to figure out what to wear." I confess and pull back from the mirror to look at the job I've done framing my eyes.
"What we're you thinking?" She questions.
"Maybe a black dress—"
"I'm already wearing a black dress." Tiffany interrupts and I roll my eyes. Having a friend who is very fashion conscious is sometimes a burden. Tiff can be a bit much with her rules of no outfit repeating or wearing similar outfits while out together. I outfit repeat all the time because unlike her I don't have an unlimited supply of clothes but I respect her not wanting us to dress the same.
"I could wear the red one?" I suggest instead.
"The red slip? Oh my god, yes! I love that one on you. Tom's going to be there, he'll also appreciate the red dress." She teases innocently as I coat my lips with gloss.
"We kissed once and I hated it. I don't even know why I kissed him." I whine frustrated with myself for the mistake I made weeks ago with our friend Tom. I don't know why I did it. He's always been interested in me but I don't see him like that and I guess I just had a lapse in judgment. Or a few too many drinks. He becomes quite persistent after a few drinks himself, I guess he gets more confident from them and I don't know maybe the confidence threw me into thinking kissing him was a good idea.
It wasn't though. I'm an only child but it was what I imagine kissing a brother would be like and it's a mistake I definitely don't want to repeat.
"He's always liked you it was just a matter of time." Tiffany concludes through the phone and I frown.
"I've never liked him like that though." I defend. Do people think I like Tom?
"I know that, but sometimes you just never know what you like and don't like till you try it." She explains. I guess that's true. And in regards to Tom, I now know it's something I definitely don't like.
"Mmm well it won't be happening again. It was a stupid drunk kiss and I just hope he knows that." I groan, taking my red slip dress out my closet and tossing it on the bed to change into.
"I doubt it. I'm sure he's in love with you now since he finally got to kiss you. Anyway I'm almost there so I'll see you soon. Text me when you arrive so I can come find you." Tiffany tells me.
"Okay, see you soon." I say before hanging up.
I get to the house party, tugging at the ends of my red silky slips dress in apprehension. This is the first social outing I've attended since my grandmothers passing and I'm kind of nervous for some reason. I almost don't trust myself to not break down in random sobs if something happens to remind me of her but I'm hoping alcohol will distract me from those tendencies. This will also be the time I tell the friends I've made from university that I'm having to drop out. And that also puts me on edge.
"Lily!" I hear Tiffany shriek as soon as I walk into the party. She rushes over to me, wearing a black dress and purple tartan blazer. Her long dark hair is straightened to perfection and clipped back at the sides out of her face. The excited smile plastered on her face and wide eyes tell me she's already had a few drinks.
"Hey." I laugh at her as she flings herself into my arms.
"You look so hot babe oh my gosh." She complements me.
"Come! Everyone's over here." Tiffany grabs my hand and leads me through the crowded lounge and into the kitchen.
Our group of friends, well they're more Tiffany's friends but I know them all, are standing in a circle talking amongst themselves. Tom is the first to notice us approaching and I notice his cheeks flush when he looks at me. I guess he hasn't had enough drinks yet to go from shy and blushing to confident and forward. He's wearing his usual sweater and jeans and his blonde hair is swept to the side.
If he were to have a small child perched at his feet, Tom's style would make total sense. But as a straight, single twenty one year old it just doesn't make sense to me. I use to joke that he's like Benjamin Button only he forgets he doesn't have to dress like a grandad still when he's young.
"Hey Lily! We're really sorry to hear about your grandma." One of the girls offers.
"Yeah that's awful. Hope you're okay." Another adds. I give them a quiet thank you and awkward nod before finding a red cup to pour my bottle of Moscato into.
The group discuss many things, from politics to social problems then to celebrity news. I stay quiet mostly, not offering much to the conversations and instead focus on seeing how many times I can reach the bottom of my cup before someone purposely brings me into the conversation.
"So have you thought much about your classes for next semester?" Tom turns his blue eyes to focus on me.
Here we go.
"No actually...I'm actually dropping out." I admit and refill my drink ignoring the quiet gasps from a few of the others.
"What? Why?" Tiffany grabs my arm.
"I lost my scholarship from the time off I took." I shrug, thankful for the drinks I've downed already that stop me from being emotional about this.
"So you're just going to drop out? You've worked too hard to just stop." Tom frowns.
"We'll I can't afford classes without my scholarship so I don't really have a choice." I sip at my drink and shrink at the way they're all staring at me.
"What about your job? You could save up?" Tiffany asks and I want to laugh at how naive she is.
"Liquor stores don't really pay university tuition like they use to." I joke.
"Well...well that is just fucking unfair!" Tiffany grumbles.
"You okay?" Tom asks me quietly as someone changes the subject. Thank god.
"Yeah." I lie.
"No." I admit changing my mind quickly. "But it's life. It's my own fault." I take another drink.
"I'm always here if you need." Tom's hand finds my waist and he leans a little closer. I step away and his hand drops.
"Sorry I'm just...I'm gonna go find the bathroom." I excuse myself.
I find the bathroom and thank god it's empty with how many people there are here. I shut the door and walk over to the sink, putting down my cup and leaning my hands against the granite. I just need a few moments to myself before going back out there. I force myself to take a few deep breaths and wash my hands, enjoying the cold water that makes me feel a little less pent up. I take in my appearance and begin adjusting my hair, moving a few strands so my middle part is perfectly straight.
I'm fixing my lip gloss when the bathroom door opens and a girl with wavy dark hair and silky caramel skin enters the bathroom. She closes and locks the door behind her, not caring that there's someone else in the bathroom with her.
She turns to look me up and down with zero judgement behind her eyes. Almost as if she was sizing me up.
"Hi." She starts. She's very pretty, her large dark eyes and facial features remind me of a Fennec Fox. I recognise her from other gatherings like this. I don't know her personally but I know she goes to the same university.
"Um hey." I answer and put the cap back on my lip gloss. Watching as she pulls out a small joint from her Dior handbag.
"I'm Mesha." She gets a little black lighter out of her bag and walks to the window before lighting the joint.
"Lily." I answer her.
"I know." Mesha smiles sweetly at me. She knows who I am? How?
"Should you be smoking that in here?" I question her and she shrugs.
"I've done it a few times already." She shrugs again and takes a drag on the joint to get it going.
"Want some?" She offers holding the smoking stick between her manicured nails.
"I'm good." I decline politely.
"You sure? Sounded like you need this more than me from what I heard in the kitchen." She smiles sweetly.
I stare at her for a second, my eyes flicking between the joint and her face. Fuck it, I really do need it.
"Sure." I change my mind and walk over to her to take the joint.
"You heard that?" I ask her about my conversation in the kitchen.
"Meh I heard enough." She shrugs as I take a small toke.
"Sounds rough." Mesha's lips pull to the side in sympathy as she leans against the window frame.
"Yeah well...thanks." I hold up the joint in reference before handing it back to her.
"No problem. You can help me finish it if you want. I know a girl in distress when I see one." She smiles warmly.
I probably shouldn't but Mesha seems nice and I don't really feel like going back out to a touchy Tom right now.
"Thanks." I return her smile.
"I actually came in here to talk to you." Mesha confesses sucking on the joint again before passing it back to me.
"Really?" My brows pull together in confusion.
"I was actually in the same position as you a year ago. My parents financial situation changed and I almost lost my placement in my course cause I couldn't afford it." Mesha says and I look at her dressed head to toe in designer.
"Good to see you've turned that around." I joke gesturing to her outfit and she laughs.
"Well that's what I wanted to talk to you about." Her brown eyes meet mine and I cock my head to the side intrigued.
"I wouldn't just offer this to anyone, but you remind me a lot of myself in this situation and you seem like a good fit for the job." She takes the joint back from me.
"Job?" I ask her.
"Do you know what a sugar baby is?" Mesha asks, flicking the ash off the joint out the window and my brows raise in surprise.
"Yeah...like girls who sleep with old rich guys for money and designer—" I stop mid sentence and look back to Mesha's designer outfits.
"Oh my god are you a sugar baby?" I ask her astonished, making sure my tone has zero judgement behind it. I had heard about a lot of university girls becoming them to help out financially but had never met anyone that actually did it.
"Not really but kind of." Mesha admits with a shrug, her glossed full lips sucking on the joint.
"What do you mean kind of?" I ask her fascinated.
"Well..." She seems slightly hesitant to tell me. Her brown eyes flicking between my own as she assess if she can trust me or not.
"I won't tell anyone if that's what you're worried about." I assure her.
"I'm an escort." Mesha reveals flatly before smoking on the joint again.
"What does that mean?" I know roughly what an escort is but I don't really know the details of job description.
"So I go on dates with like old rich guys, actually some of them aren't even that old, and they pay me for it. Like a lot of money." Mesha explains and hands the joint to me.
"And when I heard you saying in the kitchen you were struggling for money I thought maybe you'd be interested in an opportunity to change that." She admits and I cough out my drag at her words.
"You think I could be an escort?" I splutter out between coughs and give her back the joint that's almost out.
"Hell yes. Girl you would make a killing with your looks." Mesha smiles at me and I smile back, feeling the effects of the weed.
"You think?" I ask her. Why am I even concerned if someone thinks I'd be a successful escort? I'd never actually do it. Right?
"Absolutely. You're fucking gorgeous, I wouldn't be surprised if you made ten thousand in two weeks." She takes one last toke on the joint before dropping it into the toilet and flushes it down the drain.
Ten thousand dollars? In two weeks?! That's what I need to continue classes next semester.
"Ten thousand? Like ten thousand dollars?" I ask Mesha stunned.
"Yeah, easy." She nods like it's not that surprising.
"How much do you usually make in a week?" I ask her engrossed by her revelations.
"I pick and choose when I work. It does vary though depending the work and what's on offer from clients. But a week could range from three to seven grand." Mesha discloses with a shy smirk.
I can tell the joint is also having an effect on her too.
"What!" I say to her stunned by the numbers.
"Do you like....Yknow?" I can't help but ask and I can't help the giggle passing through my lips like a little school kid.
"What?" Mesha asks giggling too. Okay we're definitely both stoned.
"Do you have to like sleep with them?" I whisper as if someone else might hear us.
"No, shit no. I have my boundaries...well actually there was this one time..." Mesha trails off and bites her lip embarrassed. And I giggle again as she covers her face embarrassed. I like this Mesha girl. She's a lot like me.
"You slept with one of them?!" I ask her still giggling and pull her hands away from her face.
"He was this young posh banker guy and super good looking and gave me a shit load of money for it but apart from him, never." Mesha clears up, defending her lapse in boundaries.
"Holy shit." I state, absolutely in awe of the girl I met ten minutes ago in this bathroom. I would have never guessed this about her. Seeing her round at parties I had just assumed she was one of the rich kids like Tiffany but Mesha has found a unique line of work to pay her own way through designer stores and university.
My eyes find Mesha's designer bag and for a brief moment I imagine myself in her lifestyle. Going out to dinners in expensive dresses with random men who pay me for my company. I don't know how I'd feel about it but the money seems tempting.
"So what do you think?" Mesha asks me.
"About what?" I look up to meet her eyes.
"I wouldn't just offer this to anyone but I feel like you need the money and could handle yourself. I could introduce you to my boss."
"You have a boss? Like a head escort or something?" I ask her and Mesha cracks up laughing.
"Oh my god no." She giggles.
"No there's these guys who run a bunch of different sectors of the industry who get us connected with clients and keep us safe while out working." She explains.
"Different sectors of the industry?" I question her.
"Yeah they look after escorts and also have like strip clubs and things like that they manage too." Mesha confesses.
"Oh so it's like proper organised and everything?" I ask her. It kind of makes me feel better knowing there's people that help look after girls like Mesha doing that kind of work. I've heard of some scary stories where girls are tricked into situations with stranger men they've met online in hopes of a casual hook up and it ending badly. At least there's protection and the people running the situation know who and where the men are with the girls they're meeting.
"So did you?" Mesha asks me again.
I don't even know what to say. Usually the thought of doing something like this would have me running for the hills. But what scares me the most right now is that I'm not even committed to even saying no like I probably would of months ago. The money is what's causing my hesitation, more specifically ten grand in two weeks. That's absolutely insane to me. I could pay the rest of my grandmothers medical bills and pay for my courses for university. I wouldn't have to work at the liquor store anymore either. I'd have my afternoons free to...well to go on dates with rich men. I could get nice nails like Mesha's and have a wardrobe like Tiffany's. The one thing that would hold me back is the people I know. What they'd think of me if they ever found out. But with my grandmother being gone, and my parents also being gone the only people I'd really have to hide it from would be a few friends. Which, when I think about it, probably wouldn't be that hard to hide. And it's not like I'd have no one to talk to about it, I'd have my new friend Mesha to ask about things...
The more I'm thinking about this seriously the more the pros are persuading me.
"I..." I hope I'm not just thinking this is a good idea because I'm slightly drunk and high. Ten grand in two weeks.
"Okay. I'm in." I finally decide. And Mesha smiles wildly, clapping her hands.
"Let's go get a drink to celebrate!" Mesha says pulling me out the bathroom with her.
"Celebrate what?" I ask her laughing.
"Our new friendship and your life literally about to change." She turns to beam her beautiful smile at me and leads me through the crowd to find us drinks.
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