PULSE [H.S]

021

"Determination is the wake-up call to the human will." — Tony Robbins

Clove took me shopping.

She dragged me to the mall, bursting with excitement. Apparently there's an event tomorrow, some sort of cartel dinner event, and I need a formal dress to wear for it.

Harry gave us his card, saying to get a dress, shoes, and 'whatever other shit I need'. I'm not sure why I need his card when there's $600,000 in my bank account, but Clove snagged it right from his fingers, happily.

She leads me into a fancy-looking store, and I immediately feel out of place. A guy dressed in a suit approaches us with two glasses of champagne, and it's so abnormal to me.

A lady appears, smiling at us. Clove says, "We are looking for a formal dress for my friend here, probably dark, a little revealing, but nothing too scandalous."

The lady nods, looking me up and down. She asks, "Is there a budget you have in mind, miss?"

"Nope," Clove says. "The more expensive, the better."

The lady nods and leaves to go get some dresses ready for me to try on based on Clove's description, which slightly worries me.

I ask her, "What are you wearing tomorrow?"

"Probably a blue dress that I haven't worn in a while, but it doesn't matter what I wear. Nobody notices me anymore, but all eyes will be on you," she says, taking a second champagne flute off of the guy's tray.

The lady returns with a rack of dresses, and I'm already dreading this. I hate trying on clothes, especially dresses, and even more so, long dresses. It's so irritating.

I try on a few of them, not really liking how they look on me. One of them is so heavy that it feels like I'm wearing a carpet. There's a green one that I like, but Clove insists we can find better.

The sixth dress I try on is black. It has thin straps and a swoop neck, which always intimidates me, but I like how they look. It fits me like a glove, and I really like the slit in the leg.

Clove says, "Wow, you look amazing."

"This dress fits you quite perfectly, miss," the lady says.

Clove tells her we'll take it, so I shimmy out of it and put my normal clothes back on. The price tag catches my eye, and I almost scream.

$2000. For a fucking dress.

Clove tells me it's fine; that's how much her dresses usually are. She proceeds to pick out black heels and some earrings for me, throwing in a bracelet for herself.

When we leave, I'm feeling overwhelmed by how much money we just spent.

I say, "That was a ridiculous amount of money. I could've just found something at Kohl's."

"Kiz, sweetie." Clove pats my shoulder. "Only moms shop at Kohl's."

I frown. "But Kohl's cash is so nice."

"You don't have to worry about money anymore," she reminds me as we reach her car.

I sigh. "I guess, but it's hard to justify spending that much money on anything."

"I'm not saying you have to drop $10k every time you go somewhere, but you can treat yourself every now and then and not feel guilty about it," she urges.

I nod. "Okay. Maybe when I get my iced coffees, I'll get almond milk and not be stressed about the extra charge for non-dairy milk."

"That's what I'm talking about!" she cheers and then says, "Kind of."