Provoked, Tense, Stressed (and) DistractedMature

In my car I lay my weary head. I can’t believe I told them. I haven’t talked about my parents’ demise since I left therapy—another thing that no one knows about. It’s not happening now. That’s what she always used to say. There’s a part of me that has to know it’s over, but somehow, the memories always trickle back.

My phone rings and I jump back to reality. My reality. The reality where I’m famous and beloved. I let it ring a few more times so that whoever is on the other line doesn’t think they’re a higher priority than whatever I am up to. Of course, I am the top priority in all scenarios. I slide my phone to unlock it and answer with a simple “Hello”. I cannot possibly tell this whatless caller who they’ve reached. Just in case they did not intend to call me… I’ve learned better than to do that.

“Hi, is this Ms. Greene?” Evokes a female and somewhat familiar voice. I start to cut her off to hiss the word Miss, but she does not allow enough time. “It’s Kyra. Kyra Lane. You know from the coffee shop, we met and it was lovely. Point being I thought I’d swing by the coffee shop and meet up with you to remind you who I am and that I’m still interested in the position.”

I roll my eyes so loud I’m pretty sure she could hear them on the other side of the line. “Well, I suppose, I could bless you with my presence. Just one more time.” I’m back!

“Oh, yes, that’d be—uh—excellent. Meet you there in half and as they say muchas gracias!” Well she’s really gotten a confidence boost since we last met to think that she, a mere peasant, could speak to me in such a tone. Not to mention the fact that she didn’t first check to see if that time was alright with me. God, half an hour, I suppose that’s enough time to fix my makeup. The shop isn’t too far from here anyway.

Out of my overfilled purse, I grab my mascara, makeup remover, concealer, foundation, lipstick, lip liner, lip plumper, eye shadow, face powder, and contouring powders. Using the mirror I keep in the back seat—the car mirrors are all far too small—I carefully apply each dab of makeup until I’m restored to the glorious state everyone knows.

I push open the door to the coffee shop and see Kyra sitting at a circular glass table in the middle of the room. Her style has also improved since we last met as she is now fashioning a low-cut, fiery dress. And when I say fiery, I mean it’s yellow that transitions into reddish orange and actually resembles flames. The hem barely skims the floor and around the waist is a small and shiny belt. Overall it’s pretty, but holds no comparison to my white Max Gengos aura dress.


“Hello, hello everybody!” I give a little bit of a flirty royal wave before taking my seat across from Kyra.

“How are you today?” She’s clearly trying to act modest again, as if I haven’t seen the real her. In fact I have a theory.

“What are your intentions with Aaron?” I say accusingly. No surprise, she responds with a dumbfounded gaze. “I mean, what are your aspirations? Why do you want to be an assistant?”

“Well, I love to help people and—“

“Cut the act. You want to be a star, don’t you?”

“Well I mean I wouldn’t mind it if I were, but then, who doesn’t want to be famous?” Heh, I am good. I now know that she wants to try to take someone on the set’s job. Gasp! What if she’s after my job?

“How do you intend on upgrading yourself from assistant to actress? Do you plan on taking away a role from someone else? Because let me tell you Sister, the acting world isn’t big enough for the both of us!”

“Oh, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to seem intimidating.” How innocent is she planning on acting?

“Intimidating? Oh Sweetie, I don’t feel intimidated by you, I feel sorry for you. Alone in a world of ill repute, I couldn’t imagine.” I look up to the skies for emphasis on the last sentence. I know that’s a lie because I know very well where she stands, but whatever. “Now to return to my question, how far would you go to achieve this dream of yours?”

“Oh, I’d kill for it!” She hesitates for a second before assuring me she means metaphorically.

 “Oh one last question, aside from bartending, are there any prior jobs you haven’t told me about?”

“Well, between you and me, Love, sometimes the bar would need entertainment, I’d juggle flaming torches. It’s quite the talent, if you’d ever care to see.” She flips her hair out of her face and with that, walks away.

I feel like I’m missing something very obvious about this chick, I just can’t put my finger on it. Oh well, I’m probably reading too far into things. My imagination has been a little overactive with all the memories flooding back and whatnot.

The End

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