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Ava
Twenty-seven years old
Manhattan, New York
“Biyatch, don’t hog all my blow. It’s my birthday,” I snarl at Ashlee. Eyes shut, she throws her head back. The lighting in this particular bathroom is shit. Either that or I need sleep. Both of us look like crap.
“You’re so fucking greedy.” I’m kidding, but not really. Ashlee is a selfish bitch, but I guess she’s my friend, so whatever.
I lean down using the rolled-up hundred-dollar bill to snort the last of the coke. Jesus, she did snort most of it. It’s my own fault. I never should have allowed her to hold the vial, but my dress didn’t have pockets. Still, it’s my birthday. I swallow. The drip slides down my throat and all of me goes numb. Straightening, I lean forward to look at my eyes in the bathroom mirror, trying to ignore Ashlee since she’s doing a pouty face in the mirror.
“Stop it.” I start to smile because she looks ridiculous. “I’m pissed. You go blow Phillip for more coke.”
She bursts out laughing. “Sorry, that’s your job.” Her collagen lips, along with the blow, make her look like a duck. Either that or I simply hate her and her stupid face.
I grab a linen towel sitting on the black sink in a nice silver tray and wipe my nose. I hate when people let their nose run. Just because you can’t feel it doesn’t mean we can’t see it.
“You have Zander,” I snap as I toss the towel in a trash basket and wipe away the mascara from under my eyes. Christ, I look like… well, like I’ve been partying for two days.
“Hello?” Ashlee’s hand appears in my face as she waves at me.
“God… what?” I slap the offending hand away to glare at her.
“Look, I’m sorry. Maybe I did hog the blow and Zander is easier to manipulate.” She reaches over to sweep my hair off my shoulder. “But I don’t keep them like you do, sweetie.” She cocks her head as if that means she’s sincere.
She’s not.
As she turns to the mirror and grabs her Chanel purse, she starts fixing her face. “He’s getting cheap. Also, did you see the way he rolled his eyes earlier when I wanted that new Hermès scarf?”
I don’t respond because I don’t care. Why am I friends with her again? I met Ashlee years ago in Milan. We were both starting our modeling careers and became friends. She was way more successful than me and she’s a good four inches taller. And had she not let the booze and drugs ruin her, she wouldn’t have to whore herself out to rich men now.
Harsh, but true. Just because we’re their girlfriends, mistresses, whatever, people want to label us. None of us has a ring on our finger. So yeah, maybe that makes us high-priced whores.
Jesus, maybe it’s good we’re out of coke. I’m starting to get mean.
“Do you ever just want to run away?” I speak over the vapid nonsense coming out of her mouth.
That shuts her up and she freezes, sighing dramatically and looking at me. “What the fuck is up your ass, Ava?”
“Oh, I don’t know… I’m twenty-seven and I’m sick of sucking an old man’s cock,” I hiss.
She shakes her head and smiles as she pulls out a tube of red lipstick.
“Lay off the drugs. You need sleep.” She rubs her lips together. “And remember, don’t bite the hand that feeds you, Princess.” Suddenly I hate her. Like does she not get what we are?
“Don’t you want something more?” Not caring that we’ve been in here for a long time, I ignore the pounding on the door. With the mood I’m in, I might not go back out.
“No,” she snaps, her eyes turning to black ice. “And neither do you. Sober up. You’ll feel better in the morning. Let’s go back to the table.” She moves around me as her words echo like I’m in a tunnel.
Neither do you.
“Let’s go, Ava.” She snaps her fingers at me.
I turn slowly. “I’m not going back out there.”
“Jesus.” She sighs and looks up at the ceiling, then grabs my arm, her pointy nails digging into me. “Listen carefully, Ava. You may be beautiful, but without Phillip, you’re nothing. You have no degree, no job experience, nothing.”
I jerk my arm away. “I can work. There’s nothing wrong with me,” I sneer as someone pounds on the door again.
That’s it. I’m done. Unlocking the door, I swing it open and scream, “In a fucking minute,” then slam it shut, not even caring as I lean against it. Ashlee stares at me like I’m the one who’s crazy.
“Get your shit together, Ava.” Her eyes are wide, reminding me of the Evil Queen in Snow White.
“He gives you everything. All you have to do is fuck him, which you’ve been doing for ten years.”
