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"Does my sexiness upset you? Does it come as a surprise that I dance like I've got diamonds at the meeting of my thighs?"
Maya Angelou
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Margot

"Seriously, how could he speak to me like that? I am old enough to be that idiot's mother!" I fume.

"Margot," Metisha begins calmly, "Abel Fox is twenty-nine and you are thirty-four. So how are you old enough to be his mother?"

"Whatever," I scoff.

"You know," Metisha places down the red lipstick she applied on my lips to pick up the mascara, "this is the third time you've talked about the movie shoot incident. Are you sure you aren't interested in Abel?"

"What!" I exclaim loudly.

"Just saying." She shrugs, applying the mascara on my lashes.

"Don't you ever say something like that again or I won't be responsible for my actions," I sneer.

She shrugs, again. "Could you stop blinking?"

"Just how many hours does it take to apply a mascara?" I retort, blinking again.

"Blink one more time and see if I don't stick this mascara into your eyes," Metisha threatens, holding the mascara like a murderer would hold a knife.

"You seem to forget that I am here," Jules says, refixing her already fixed hair.

"How could we, Mummy Jules?" Metisha and I say, simultaneously.

Jules rolls her eyes. "Did you say this thing isn't too short?" A worried look etched on her face, Jules pulls on the hem of her white tube dress which stops mid-thigh, just like that of mine and Metisha's.

"Jules, you look perfect," Metisha replies as she puts down the mascara, putting an end to the torture my eyes had been going through. "And don't think of changing that dress because you are gorgeous, isn't that right, Margie?" Metisha asks as she checks out her butt in the standing mirror and juts it out in a way that makes me laugh before turning to assess Jules.

Her long brown hair is done in beautiful curls. Her make-up, unlike that of Metisha and I, is minimal, consisting of only kohl that brings out her doe eyes and a burgundy coated lips. The white tube dress shows off her slender figure and her already long legs look longer and sexier in the black six inch heels she's wearing.

Like Metisha said earlier, Jules looks perfect!

"If I were a man, I would be all over you right now," I finally answer.

"See." Metisha beams. When Jules still looks unsure, Metisha moves closer to her and leans forward as if to tell her a secret. "A word of advice: Don't ever doubt a fashion designer like me. Now let's get out of here before Jules decides to go wear one of her business suits," Metisha says, pushing Jules towards the door that leads out of her (Jules') room.

I laugh as I adjust my red off-the- shoulder bandage dress and give myself a once-over in the mirror. Picking up my red purse, I follow the girls.

*****

In this world, there are three categories of Drunks.

The first category are those who tell secrets they wouldn't have told if they hadn't been drunk. Like telling A's girlfriend A slept with their step sister sort of thing.

The second category are those who fall asleep immediately they are done drinking. For this category, getting drunk means falling asleep. They are the ones you find sleeping in your toilet the next day after hosting a house party.

How do they end up there?

Good question!

They simply go in there to take a leak and then...sleep off.

Yeah, they just sleep off.

The third category are those who take on an entirely different personality. Like they completely change from the real them to the opposite.

Jules is in the third category.

Anytime Jules has too much to drink, in other words, get drunk, she changes from a coordinated, organized and business minded Jules to, well, the opposite, such as saying things she wouldn't have said had she not been drunk, being excessively vulgar, saying anything that comes to her mind, you name it.

And right now, in Meds', one of the most popular celebrity club in NYC, all Metisha and I could do is look on as our Jules turns into a sudden Beyonce, vigorously shaking her waist to Wiley's Boasty.

I was still staring at my friend in awe when Metisha taps me, I turn to ask her why but she points for me to look in a particular direction, I look at where she's pointing at only for me to see Diego, making his way into the VIP section.

Just why does he have to choose to come to Meds', out of all the clubs in NYC?

Not wanting to risk Jules actually seeing him, Metisha drags Jules from the dance floor back to the quieter and darker part of the club where we are seated.

"I am never gonna date again. Never, never, never, never," was the first thing Drunk Jules says, after sitting down which makes Metisha mouth to me to ask if she had, by slight chance seen her ex, I shake my head, though I myself am not sure if by shaking my head, I meant No, She hadn't seen him or if I meant I don't know if she had seen him.

"That was what you said after your fifth heartbreak." I remind Jules, carefully taking a little sip out of my scotch. Certainly don't want to end up like her.

"I mean, that heartless product of nine months is a CEO, so also am I. He's rich," she says, her words coming out as a slur. She then does nothing but point at her self with her thumb for like two minutes I was starting to wonder if her drunk brain has failed in the duty of thinking. At that moment, her brain proves me wrong as she starts to speak again, "I'm rich too. He's gorgeous, I'm gorgeous too. So what's so special about him to the extent that Dad had to insult me?" Obviously, she was still vexed over the argument she had with her dad last week, even in her drunken state.

"That should be because you've got a pussy while he's got a dick," Metisha answers in a 'duh' tone.

"Arrrrgh! Being a woman is hard as fuck!" Jules grumbles. Mind you, normal Jules would never have said all this but drunk Jules is basically filterless.

"Come on, don't say that," I say, taking another sip of my scotch. However, Jules isn't listening anymore.

Why?

Because all her attention are now on Metisha's boobs!

"Tisha," Jules hiccups, "did you get a freaking blow job?" Metisha's eyes widens while I just shake my head.

This girl is a goner.

As if her brain just realized what came out of her mouth, she covers her mouth with her hand and giggles. "I meant boob job, did you get a boob job?"

"No, why?" Metisha asks with a tone of someone who already expects the other person to spew nonsense.

"Well, my boobs used to be bigger than yours," she responds, touching her own boobs, "but now your boobs look bigger than mine," she says reaching out to touch Metisha's boobs but at the last minute, decides against it, probably due to the death glare Metisha shot her.

"Come to think of it, blow job, boob job, bigger, boobs." She turns towards me. "Margie, what do they have in common?"

I scratch the back of my neck. "Uh... they all begin with letter B?"

"Wow! Aren't you such a genius?" She belches. "Oh my gosh, I'm gonna puke."

Immediately, Metisha is beside her, pulling her to her feet. "We'll be right back," she says to me. "I'm going to try get her into the restroom before she vomits all over the place." I nod and shoo them away.

On their way, Jules peers at Metisha's behind and suddenly yells, "Woohoo! Everybody in this motherfucking club, my baby's got the biggest ass in the world." I laugh as Metisha leads her away with a scowl.

By now, Normani's Motivation is being played and I watch as people shake to the beat with reckless abandon.

"Hey, Angel," someone calls from beside me. I've always hated being called 'Angel' by a stranger. For all you know, I could be an evil witch sent from the pit of hell to eat souls. So why call me Angel when you don't even know me?

I turn to see a young man who looks like he's in his mid-twenties, probably twenty-five. He looks handsome, if you go for the feminine type.

Any other day, I would have loved to make conversation with him, maybe even exchange contacts but today, with the nagging feeling I've been getting for some time now, I just can't. Maybe it's because I had felt this exact way the day mom died, I don't know.

On that fateful day, I had been sitting in the hospital reception while the doctors attended to her. Then, all of a sudden, I started feeling like something bad was going to happen. Minutes later, the doctor came to meet Dad, Kevin and I at the reception and said, "We did everything we could to save her, but I'm sorry, she's gone."

I've been feeling that exact same way ever since I stepped into this club. I chose to ignore it but the more time I spend in this club, the more the feeling grows. I make a mental note to ask Metisha and Jules to let us leave once they are back from their trip to the restroom.

"Hello," I look up, I had forgotten about pretty boy.

"Yes?" I snap. Immediately, I regret it as a sad look engulfs his beautiful face. "Sorry, there's just a lot on my mind today," I lie.

"It's okay, just wanted to say I'm a big fan of yours. I loved your character in the movie 'Back to Texas'.

Oh! It's a fan, "Thank you."

"I'm a model, my name is Derek, I already know your name." He adds with a smile, "Actually, who doesn't?"

I smile back. "Notwithstanding, since we just met for the first time, I should properly introduce myself." I extend my hand to him for a shake. "Margot Johns, Actress, my friends call me Margie."

"Derek Cole, Model." He shakes my hand. "My friends call me Dery." He winks. I chuckle and gesture for him to sit, then look behind me to see if Metisha and Jules are on their way back but see neither of them.

What now? Has Metisha started puking too?

I turn back to face Derek who is now staring at me in the 'I'm a hunter and you are my prey' way rather than the earlier 'I would like to get to know you' way.

Okay, what was that?

I quickly down the rest of my scotch so as to go look for those two. Who knows what they are up to now?

"Derek, it was nice chatting with you, I really hope we do meet again," I say, getting up from my seat. Before I know it, I am pulled down into Derek's laps. My eyes widen at this and I try to get up but suddenly start to feel strange, like my head had been hit with a sledge hammer.

"Margot," Derek mutters into my ear, "something's going to happen to you right now," he says into my ear slowly , as if he were speaking to a child and at that moment, I start to feel woozy. "you won't black out, not now at least but at the same time, you won't be able to say or do anything," he says, glancing around, I am sure to make sure no one is paying attention to us, Even if they were, with the way I was sitting in his lap, we could be easily mistaken to be lovers.

Just what is taking Metisha and Jules so long and why do I feel giddy. "When you turned away to look for your friends, I slipped a little something into your drink, a very special gift."

Now, I could hardly understand what he was saying.

A little something?

Drink?

What is he saying?

I try to think or say something but my brain has by now become too foggy for that.

"Don't fight it Angel, I'm going to take care of you," he whispers into my ear. "I bet your body is going to be worth the risk."

And that is when it hits me.

I've been drugged.

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Oh, our dear Margot😔

What do you guys think would happen to her now?

Y'all should pray for Margot. She really needs it.

VOTE, COMMENT and SHARE.

It gives me immense joy when you do any of the three.

Thanks cupcakes😉