"I'll play my role, just give me the script."
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Radio host Jay, 26, and hairstylist Liyah, 24, have been in a situationship for a year. Liyah is ready to break it off so...
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I don't want to do hair anymore.
Liyah is sitting behind reception in the empty shop, scrolling on the computer. It shows upcoming bookings for all stylists, some of them hers. The scent of lemon cleaner hangs in the air from last night's closing.
Styling pays well, but not enough anymore. For the last four years, all she's done is style hair, sell wigs, and manage the shop.
There was once a time when her life was filled with the simple joys of everyday moments. She used to post adorable snapshots of her life on social media, capturing the essence of her joy in beautifully curated images. She loved to indulge in the quaint ritual of going to brunch, enjoying the mid-morning sun as she savored her meals, basking in the delightful combination of breakfast and lunch that the occasion offered.
She'd even attended medicated cooking classes, learning how to infuse cannabis into her favorite meals and treats. She misses that, being around other herb enthusiasts, high, surrounded by good food and good music.
When was the last time I've done anything just because?
She can't remember. Her life outside the shop is sleep, workout, and... Jay.
She closes the windows on the computer and finds her way through the shop to her office space in the inventory. The thought of Jay makes her want to move, work her hands. There are certainly some orders to fulfill, customer inquiries to answer.
She opens the laptop on the desk, pulling up logistics, and then gets to work sorting wigs into boxes to be shipped before the shop opens up for the day.
They hadn't talked at all yesterday after breakfast. He hasn't said anything, she hasn't said anything.
Every hour, she thinks of texting:
Do you really love me?
Jay doesn't know what that means, she always tells herself as she resists the urge to send the message. He's just saying that... just because.
She wants to believe it.
It has to be true. There's no way I've fallen in love with him and he feels nothing for me at all.
But he has to show it. Talk is cheap, and she isn't getting any younger. If he loves her, he'll prove it with his actions.
A smile stretches across her face, exposing deep dimples as she fantasizes about a more romantic Jay. She's seen his sweet side, kind of. His tenderness. But she can see him lighting candles and running a bath; making a dinner reservation; or taking her on a spontaneous trip somewhere quiet and cozy, somewhere with a view.
She catches herself blushing, and shakes it off. But it comes right back when she thinks about Friday night. How he'd acted at the club when she spoke to another man for just five minutes. She's never seen him so territorial.
