MAYA, a girl who goes through life with an unwavering smile-around other people that is. While juggling four jobs to support her father and a side hobby of modelling, Maya is rarely at home-to her content. Even through the mental and physical turmoi...
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I SPENT AN hour trying to figure out a way to hide the cut on my cheek but it was useless. The gash wasn't very deep but it was still deep enough to not be covered with makeup and randomly start to bleed. "Whatever." I mumble to myself.
The bruise on my cheek is hidden and the six painkillers I took this morning took care of the searing pain between my legs and the ache of my abdomen.
I don't put any makeup on my body, instead I opt for the longest uniform shirt I own and the highest waisted skirt. The outfit only exposed the smallest sliver of skin but it would be dark enough in the club to not be noticeable.
҉
Just as I'm out to grab the handle to open the club door, it's opened in front of me and I'm colliding with a body.
An arm instantly wraps itself around my waist to steady me and when I look up, Killian is already looking down at me. "You're okay, yeah?" He asks.
"You don't tell Ian, or anyone for that matter anything about this arrangement, understand?"
"That's what my friends call me."
Friends
I pull away from him, a scowl on my lips instead of my usual smile.
Mamas voice rings through my ears, "smiles are usually caused by other people, Maya. You never know what someone is going through and something as small as a smile can help turn their whole day around."
If i could bring myself to care, I would probably feel bad, but I can't and I don't. "Yeah." I rush as i push past him into the place where I have to spend the next eight hours of my life.
"Hey, doll" Micah greets over the loud music as I pass by the bar. I send him a tight lipped smile and walk into the back room.
Most of the waitresses on my rotation are present but I don't spot Nisha. I dont smile or attempt to be nice like I usually do, instead I make my way to an empty locker and toss my things into it. "Look who finally decided to show up to work." Ana drawls.
I don't respond. Instead I take off my hoodie and close the locker making my way to the mirror on the other side of the room. "What's the matter? Cat got your tongue?" She asks. But I'm not stupid. I know she doesn't care about that's the matter and I know the only reason she's speaking to me is to torture me.
Mean people are usually having shitty days.
That's usually my moto, but right here right now, I don't care.
