29-year-old ZJ, a resilient androgynous Malaysian, tragically lost her family in a car crash when she was 18. Growing up in Oldham, she took up waitressing under precarious conditions and pursued a part-time college degree, despite a job that offere...
Our gathering was later interrupted by a group of three men joined into the lounge before the American guys excused themselves to the marquee.
"What do we have here?" said one of them, presumably the leader of the pack, donned in a three-piece tweed suit, looking down at the cannagars.
The man looked aged but elegant, like seeing Idris Elba's stunt double with his grey stubbles neatly covered his chin. I suddenly sensed the cool tension air lingering the hall as the man settled himself into the sofa across us that was left vacated by the American guys, while his other two men followed later.
"Just enjoying my American souvenirs. Please, it's on the house," Nick offered in his crisp tone.
Idris Elba dupe accepted the offer and took the other cannagar that was half gilded with gold leaves as he inspected it. "It does look rare, doesn't it?"
"One of the finest," Nick said shortly. His face was intense with detestation.
Idris Elba dupe lit up the cannagar like a pro and took a few puffs before weed smoke billowed the room creating another tinge of lemony skunk scent. Nick rolled his cannagars between his fingers and placed it on a cigar rest before pouring a whiskey into his tumbler.
Idris Elba dupe called out to a waiter nearby for a drink. The waiter swooped in with much elegance towards us and approached him.
"Negroni straight up," he ordered before motioning at us. "Any of you fancy any poison?"
"I still have mine left," Milla waved her tumbler in the air while Nick's didn't respond, contemplating angrily into space.
"A punch or any mocktail would do," I requested.
"A what?" the waiter gave me a condescending look.
"Mocktail, you know like anything non –"
"I know what a mocktail is, sweetheart. Come on, swallow on something worth your age. It's New Year's Eve," he mocked.
"Okay," I concurred. "A water would do just fine."
"Sorry, our water's tampered with liquor. Have you tried any dry pubs in the city?" he patronised and turned to Idris Elba dupe. "Sir, your negroni will be on its way."
I sighed in dismay as the waiter left. I casted a wary glance at Nick, his agitation rose into utter vexation causing his body to shudder. It felt like he could oscillate the armchair he sat on. I've seen Nick getting mad at many things but this one was different. He was really pissed off. He crossed one of his legs into an ankle-on-knee position, rocking it uncontrollably. He spotted the waiter once more and beckoned at him.
"This lady does not come here upon my invitation to be insulted by you," Nick retorted. The tone of his voice sends another bite in the air.
"I'm sorry. I was just chafing her," the waiter's eyes widened.
"Then you should be able to understand that she requested for virgin drinks, not asking for any of your grandma's fuckin' piss!" Nick's furious look gnawed at him.
"My apologies," the waiter's distressed face flushed. "I'll get her what she wants."
"Coke will be okay," I chimed in, warily.
"Yes, get her a bloody Coke!" he fumed.
The waiter rushed to the bar for my order. When Nick's anger gradually subsided, he lifted his cannagar and nipped its burnt end for a fresh new smoke, leaving its residue on the ashtray.
"Word on the streets that Pholadi Senior is leasing his empire to his own heir. Like he doesn't want to give up his throne yet. Was it an ineptitude issue or just simply family tension?" Idris Elba dupe began the conversation.
"Well, that explains pig shit on the sole of your shoes," Nick responded. "From the streets where you were walking."
"Well, you won't be fidgeting if it's not true."
"I'm fidgeting because I don't find this relevant to be discussed at all," Nick said. "And I rather find your presence is no more relevant than the ashes on this table."
Idris Alba dupe snickered in a deep heavy tone. "You can either sink or swim, son. It is your birth right, your choice, so be a smart lessee and just rent it out. It's a good business and a great investment for the new year."
The waiter returned with our drinks, gingerly placed my can of Coke and an empty tall glass with rocks on a coaster. I didn't look up to thank him because I don't feel like rubbing it in. As I pulled the can's tab open, Milla signalled to Nick.
"I'm taking her to the marquee," she said and Nick gave a small approving nod.
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