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“At 70 years old, if I could give my younger self one piece of advice, it would be to use the phrase ‘fuck off’ much more frequently.” — Helen Mirren
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Metisha

“Rise and shine, Sleeping Trouble! It’s another fucking day!” Margot’s chipper voice boomed inside my head and I wake up, feeling weak, hung-over, and angry.

"Why is this hoe in my house so early in the morning?” I mumble to myself.

“Say what?”

“Was that how your mama used to wake you up when you were younger?” I ask instead.

Margot scoffs, moving closer to me, “I wish. I can still feel the itchiness that comes after her merciless spanks. “Here.” She hands me two pills and a glass of water. I eye them suspiciously, refusing to take it from her.

“You know, if I wanted to kill you,” She starts to caress my head. “I wouldn’t use a pill. That’s too easy and cowardly.”

Thanks to my foggy brain, I couldn’t find a suitable response, so I silently take the pills and glass of water from her.

“Aw. Aren’t you such a good girl?” she coos.

“Fuck you,” I say with a big smile and swallow the pills. After a while, I am able to think a little more clearly, and this is when I realize that I am not even in my room.

“Why am I here?”

“According to Jules, there would be no one to take care of you when you wake up this morning, feeling tired and hungover, so she brought you here."

"Awwwww.”

“I know, right. She’s an angel, and I’m glad you guys made up.”

“Yeah" I nod as I climb off the bed. "I am too. I missed that flat-assed bitch.”

When Margot says nothing in reply, I look at her. She is staring at her phone with an expression I couldn’t understand.

“Hey, what’s up?”

"Oh. It’s nothing.” She looks up and the startled look in her eyes tells me my girl is fibbing.

I take a deep breath, preparing to force whatever it is out of her, “You’ve never kept anything from me before. Don’t start now.”

She plops on the bed with a resigned look, “It’s Vikram. He messaged me saying he would be coming over tonight.”

Okay. That was surprisingly easy. All that mental preparation wasted.

"And?”

"I don’t know. He just seems kinda… weird.”

"Weird?”

She nods.

“Like ‘I am tired of this relationship’ weird, or ‘I am a psychopath’ weird? or …” I pause a little bit, wondering if I should say this last one or not. “Well, it can’t be this one but I will say it anyway: ‘I am cheating on you’ weird?”

To my utmost shock, Margot looks at me and shrugs, her expression revealing her thoughts.

“Come on, it can’t be that.”

She only sighs.

“Wait, he... you think Vikram’s cheating on you?” I spit out the words even though I still refuse to believe them. For fuck’s sake, these two started dating only three months ago!

“I don’t know what to think. These days, he’s acting suspiciously. Ugh, who am I kidding?” she says with a dry laugh, “He’s been acting suspiciously ever since we started dating.”

"Define "Suspicious",” I carefully say.

Margot gives me an exhausted look. “He never picks his calls in my presence.”

I expect her to continue but she says nothing.

“And,” I prod.

"And nothing,” she runs her fingers through her brown curls, “Isn’t that suspicious enough?”

I ponder on this for a moment. “Well, to me, it’s not.”

If looks could kill, I am sure I would have been toast with the look Margot gives me. I instinctively move back. “Um… I will just leave you to yourself for now. We will talk more when you don’t feel like biting my head off. For the main time, you could just go watch some Tv or something.”

Before I could blink, Margot dashes towards me. Thank goodness my body doesn’t consult my brain before avoiding danger, but even with that, it is still a miracle how I managed to move away from Margot’s way right before she pounces on me.

However, I realize my error when rather than trying to attack me, she heads outside, towards the living room. I follow her and see that she’s grabbed hold of the remote control.

I scoff. All that drama just to watch TV?

"What program is so important to the extent that you almost bulldozed your best friend out of the way?” I ask playfully as I sit on the rug by her feet.

"Right now, Jules is on Morales Morning Show to explain to the world why a renowned businesswoman like her would date a jobless pauper who is ten years younger than her,” Margot says all this with her eyes fixated on the tv screen.

As for me, I feel like I just heard a bunch of French words or some other foreign language that I understand niche of.

“English please, cause I swear…” Jules's throaty voice cuts me off.
I look at the tv screen, and, true to Margot’s words, Jules is on Morales’ Morning show.
The drugged look in Lola Morales’, the host’s eyes as she asks question after question makes me pity Jules.

But to my surprise, Jules holds her own, and not once does she let the woman force anything out of her.

The show is gradually coming to an end and Margot is already smiling, but I can’t, simply because I know Lola Morales.

Two years ago, I was on her show, and, she had, without mincing words, asked me if I would blame my mother for my inability to keep a man for more than three months, and without mincing words, I had asked her if she had had shit for breakfast cause garbage kept coming out of her mouth.

That had kept her quiet, and throughout the rest of the show, she didn’t dare ask about my private life again.

But Jules isn’t me. Jules is… soft, and will never be able to say something like that, and I’m afraid that blood-sucking bitch would use her softness as an opportunity to embarrass and disrespect her.

I brace myself as the commercial break ends and Morales crosses her legs as if gearing to throw the bomb produced by that shit can she calls a mouth.

“So, Mrs. Lee…”

“Miss Lee,” Jules corrects with an effortless smile.

“Sorry. I keep forgetting you are unmarried,”

"Bitch,” Margot curses.

“She’s about to get even bitchier,” I inform Margot.

And Lola Morales did get bitchier, because the last question she asks can only be asked by an inhumane person.

“So far, you’ve had ten relationships, which is really impressive. Even the world-famous Mara Rogers, known for her wild dating habits, has only had eight. So, I guess I should say congratulations for surpassing her, both in money and in relationships,” she completes her nonsense talk with a laugh that sounds more like a bird’s cuckoo.

Jules only smiles, and I’m even shocked she did. Knowing me, I would have invited the bitch into the restroom where I would then rip her into a million shreds. But Jules just calmly sits there, a smile that gives nothing away on her face as Lola laughs away her destiny.

“Wow. I really wish I could get my hands on this bitch.”

I pat Margot’s knees which are now starting to shake with anger.
I smirk. Whether she succeeds in her mission to molest Jules or not, Lola Morales is dead meat either way.

“My question is, considering the number of men you’ve dated and the kind of high positions they hold in the society, what would you say is the motive for deciding to date someone who doesn’t meet any of the requirements that comes with dating The Jules Lee?”

“Motive? Requirements?” Jules repeated with a short laugh. And then a nerve-wracking pause.
“Lola, may I ask you a question?”

"Certainly.”

"Have you ever truly loved someone, apart from yourself, obviously,” Jules adds with a funny eye-roll.

Lola seems taken aback by the question and actually stutters. “I..you..well, that’s a strange question but yes, I have.”

Jules shakes her head in disagreement. “No, Lola, you haven’t. You can ask me the question you asked earlier after you have. Or..wait, you won’t even ask cause then, you would have gotten the answer to your question by. Why I don’t look at status before dating, why I think that everyone should be allowed to love whoever they want, why I feel like the greatest bitches and assholes are those who only care about material things in a relationship… and so many more. You’ll definitely get your answers, Lola. Just try loving someone apart from yourself.” Jules picks up her cup of coffee and takes a sip. “You can wrap up the show now.”

“Oh… um… well, yes…”

"And the crowd goes wild.” Margot’s excited scream overwhelms whatever Lola has to say. “We taught that girl well, didn’t we, Mety?”

“Oh yes, we did!” I respond as I watch Lola Morales grapple for words.

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Jules😍