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4: FOUR

YOU are extremely stressed, extremely agitated, extremely stupid and extremely naked at the moment. You are tempted to find a rope and put it up on the ceiling fan which is currently going at a low speed despite the chill of the air conditioner and attach it to your neck the moment you realize everything. You shudder but not at the thought, but because it is really chilly. These staffs, did they plan on getting both of you to freeze to death with both the fan and the air conditioner running? Maybe they are doing so to enable them to be able to easily steal the bejeweled purse that your eyes land on.

A splitting sound ricochet through your head at that moment and you cringe in pain as your hands instinctively goes to hold it, trying to bear the great discomfort that came with a hangover.

'Shit! Shit! Shit!' you curse out loudly as the pain intensifies.

'Jayden, stop saying dirty words,' a voice says with a grunt. You turn to the bed and remember the lady in it, your accomplice in all of your last night's escapade. You are tempted to yell at her that you are not Jayden because it is all her fault that you are here now, regretting everything. But, you don't -not because you do not want to, but because your phone begins to play your favorite music which so happens to be your ringtone. You begin to search for it, hoping that it doesn't wake the lady. Wait, what was her name again? You try hard to remember but nothing comes up. Of course nothing would, you were always bad at remembering things especially names.

You finally trace the sound of ringing to your bag which you find is wedged between the bedside table and the bed. An image of you, sitting on the lady's thighs, straddling her, with your hands around her neck and her mouth on your chest comes to mind because that is exactly when you had dropped the bag, just before she drew you down to her. You banish the image and fetch the bag. Then you open it and take your phone, the sound of its ringing now louder. You open the foldable device and go on to check the caller ID. The name that flashes across the screen has you panicked because you just instinctively knew that something had happened.

'Damn you to hell April, but before that, you need to tell me. Where the fuck are you?!' the annoyed masculine voice booms through the phone and into your ears.

It is Marcus, the caller who happens to be your boss, the owner of the number one celebrity magazine in town, the one that you write for, Mauritian Vrgan.

The man is never always in a good mood, always angry and ill tempered. Therefore, you simply wave off his manner of speaking, forgiving him instantly because it is not his fault that he is so. His job is ever so demanding just like yours is and that could turn even the strongest of men into screeching squawking bad tempered herons.

'Are you still there?!' he practically barks at you. You do not mind the muffled strings of curses that follows your prolonged silence. You only collect yourself despite the ringing in your head from the hangover and focus on doing your best to breathe in then out and answer him with a pleasing voice and a pleasing smile -as if he could see that.

'Calm down Marcus. I am alive and well.' He says nothing for a moment and then you hear a hard hitting sound. He was at it again, going around kicking the furniture in his rather magnificent office space.

'You think I am calling to check if you are alive and well? Well, devil be damned if I am. I only want to know why you are not here when your interview with the jimjams is in about an hour's time.'

You are doomed, that is all you can think of the moment he says that. You remember then that you are supposed to have an exclusive interview with a set of quintuplets, successful entrepreneurs who are also known as the jimjams. It has been hard to get them to do the interview and now...God help you!

'I am doomed,' you say it once again but this time, out loud. You have messed this up.

'Exactly, you are doomed. But you will be far worse if you don't get here by one o'clock. I am sure Mary is just lying around, waiting for this opportunity, waiting for you to fail,' Marcus snaps at you.

'I guess so.'

'Now, hurry your ass out here fully dressed and made up because there will be no time to do it when you get here peach.'

'And where and when am I supposed to do that?' you ask as your eyes dart to the clock on the wall. It is nineteen minutes until it is twelve o'clock. 'Besides I do not know how to.'

'Get dressed, call a cab and do it in there! And another thing April?' he asks you.

'Yes?' you reply him, patiently waiting for his question.

'You will learn,' he says to you before the line goes dead with a beep.

You fool, you have no time to stand around and think. Find the bathroom, your mind bugs you.

'Oh fuck!' you mutter before you begin to gather your belongings from among the many ones strewed everywhere possible. If there was one thing you needed to do, it was to get ready here, in this room. You could not afford to go home and do so.

You rush into the bathroom and sigh in relief when you realize that it is clean and impeccable. You get into the shower and press the hot button. You scream as very hot water goes over your hair and down your back and bosom as you jump out of the shower with a grunt of pain and frustration.

'What the fuck?!' a voice yells as the bathroom door flings open. You turn towards it and there she is, in all the glory of her bareness, your roll in the hay partner, standing tall and proud, her thick wavy black hair loose and enticing around her.

@OmaPhinaPhire🔥

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Update Schedule has been changed to Saturday. Till then again lovelies!💕