"I know you're awake, honey." Ashley flinched.
"No need to worry, drink this." She felt the sofa sink as she lifted her arm up. Sadly, she couldn't prevent the damage inflicted by the light bulb that swung along with the fan. She often wondered how it was still possible for it to happen again and again.
"It's ORS. How are you feeling after vomiting for three hours straight?" Ashley's eyes were still recovering from the colourful Aurora Borealis in her eye. Even then, she knew who was sitting next to her.
"Would you mind if you turn off the light?" She barely spoke, but Bonnie understood her hand gestures.
"Sure, sweetie!….. A terrible birthday, huh?" After a click, she turned to reveal her fit for today.
She wasn't your typical grandma. Not only that, but she was and is still a drag queen for gals. In honour of Ashley's birthday, she wore a -
"What? I am dressed up as you." The thick Transatlantic accent echoed towards her, bringing back her mind to the matter of utmost importance.
"I am not a goth." She scrutinized the huge pushed up bun hair with maximum volume that no one could come up with.
Except for Tiffany Davis aka Misty Diamonds. The owner of 'Beauties Hair Salon'.
For sure, Ashley made a terrible mistake of seeping the drink when Misty opened her floor touching coat.
Her outfit consisted of a white leopard skin leotard that extended until the black short pants covered her curvy hips. Furthermore, she wore fishnets over her legs, with shiny yet spiky leg bracelets adorned around her thighs. Her face was a work of art that should have been on the front cover of 'The Advocatess'. What made the look stand out was how the sharpness of her eyeliner matched her mouth. With each provocative stroke, she left a trail of diverse gemstones, ranging from edge cut sapphires to glittery rainbow stones. As usual, the queen always starts the day by eating a misogynist for breakfast with her dark red-cherry lip gloss. Not a single patch of skin was left naked. Each had their own rings, bracelets with many tiny skulls of different sizes swinging while the owner twirled for Ashley to see the one of a kind view. Finally, she finished the look with a raven black fur coat with spikes on both shoulder pads.
"OF COURSE YOU'RE NOT GOTH! YOU'RE DEPRESSED! JUST LET A GAL TAKE ONE LOOK AT YOU AND SEE HER WORK, MAKE FUN OF YOU!" Misty's laughter roared, making Ashley jump.
"So which is?" Unamused, Ashley settled the mug down on the coffee table in front of her.
"NAKED! CAUSE YOU DON'T HAVE A FASHION SENSE-LIKE IOTA. GET IT?" As she sat down beside Ashley, she elbowed her in the side.
After her laughter died, Tiffy spoke first.
"With all that joke aside, I am really worried about you."
"Tell me about it."
"You don't have to take care of Dan's business, it's his. Let him take care of it."
"You know?"
"I saw. That boy was a wrecked typhoon with hair perm on a hair blower!"
"Hmm…"
"It was supposed to make you laugh. Cheer up a bit, would ya?"
"Depends."
"Well, then… Back in the 90s, I used to do cr@ck when I was your age."
Ashley nodded slowly while thinking about how this was related to her situation.
If you find this story on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the infringement.
"My boyfriend at the time got me into it. 'For the hype' he would say. Only to realize later that he had made plans to commit suicide."
Ashley kept quiet.
"After his body went through an autopsy, we found lots of stuff. Not only had he been doing crack, he was smoking w3ed and {marij} to the point that it led to...his death. I saw... his naked body before the funeral. That idiot...he...he used to get inked every month. I wasn't surprised to see any brand-new tats, but… I was indeed surprised to see what the tats were." She paused, looking at the flowery wallpaper with cats' paw prints, and she continued.
"Go… live your life, Taffy." She quoted, while removing her coat.
"Be the diva you always wanted to be." She pointed to her forearm.
"In the end, he knew he was pulling me into his mess. So, he let go of me in the most horrible way possible. I helped him get money for rehab. I tried words, love, letters, songs…everything, and yet he chose death over me." She slowly pulled back her coat.
The sound of the fans filled the room while Ashley looked around. In front of them, the fireplace was covered in ashes while on the top the portrait of Tiffy and her staffs of 10 years was hanged. Along with a few newspaper snippets, it was followed by some plastic models of hairstyles tools in their miniature forms. A table with sacks of paper near its legs was right at the back of a multicoloured glass window. Coloured sun rays fell onto the screen of the desktop reflecting its blue light on the nearby messy desk. The ceiling, however, was so close to cracking apart. The sky painting was clearly fainting and each crack was more dominant to the other. It felt like the sky would fall down on them.
"How could he do that to you?" Ashley finally broke the cold, hard icebreaker.
"He did it…because I reminded him…of his old self. I used to split my wrist every morning because… I missed my perverted teachers, who wouldn't stop drooling over my chest. Likewise, I missed my parents too. They used to love me by smashing beer bottles over my head. I was pathetic to…him. I… I…placed all my insecurities on him." Frustration and uncomfortableness creeped in before Ashley dropped a bomb on her.
"Is that how you feel about his death?" Ashley boldly asked her.
"Young lady, be mindful of your mouth." Tiffy scolded her.
She looked away and gave her a silent treatment for a minute or two.
Ashley carelessly continued, "It wasn't your fault. You just didn't know how to console him in the required way. You were in a different boat on another ocean. I guess? While he was in the Pacific, you were in the Atlantic. Both of your problems were as significant as the other. It's just that one was…saltier than the other."
She waited...waited...waited.... before apologizing her absurd and rude question.
"Look who's talking." She finally met her eyes with Ashley, pulling her deeper into the hug.
Accepting her foolishness and consideration.
"I should have given ya a warning." She scowled at herself.
"You should have." Ashley agreed, which gained her an eye roll.
"So, how did you guys meet?" Ashley asked, directing away from the topic.
"We both were runaway high schoolers with the same background. It's no wonder why we fell in love with our own imperfections." She pushed Ashley's hair back.
"Huh, I didn't know dead men could tell the best tales." She remarked.
Tiffy smiled at the poor janitor in her arms.
"Look...... I know it's difficult for you to do it, but…. He may have a lot on his plate, but so do you. Please…put yourself first…before putting others first. You gotta take care of your plate first, then let others share theirs with yours."
Ashley remained silent. She urged her to continue.
"It might not be easy, but you shouldn't speak to him for a while. That man needs some time to reflect on why he did it… No need to be harsh on yourself. Give yourself a break. Think about it, okay? Tell me later. Got it? Gotta make some room for the new tenant." She winked at Ashley, who smiled in return.
"You know, you could take a day off-" Tiffy suggested.
"Stanley?" Ashley inquired.
"He doesn't know. We could cover for you while you sort yourself." She calmly cleared her doubts. Except for one.
"I guess…but what about the mo-" Ashley got cut off by surprising news.
"You got a promotion. Cherry came today to deliver you the letter with the big fat letters 'P-R-O-M-O-T-I-' "Thrilled Tiffy clamped her hands together, gleeing at the happy girl.
"OKAY! I GET IT! NOW, WHERE IS IT?" Thrilled as excitement boosted her system.
"In the lounge, along with your other gifts." She winked at the startled birthday girl.
Ashley abruptly got up before muttering thanks to her.
Tiffany chuckled while getting up from the soft leather sofa. Taking a step towards the adjacent table, she rebooted the desktop that sat there with an open window of email.
"I hope today is the happy birthday you wished for…" Tiffany read the contents while grabbing a napkin from her pocket.
"Can't get my makeup ruined, but…" She contemplated whether to play along with the plan to keep the birthday girl happy, or make her face the icy promise that got broken. Regardless of the choice, she will hear about it one way or another.
In addition to spewing some curses here and there, she lit a cigar after opening up the window. A puff of smoke sent her eyes widening at the sight below her salon's entrance, making her believe that fate would do anything to ruin a 15-year-old's birthday.