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Onika Maraj March 7
Today was the day.
I was heading to House of Honey to start our first day working for Janet Jackson. I'm still upset with Beyoncé—it's the way she can take things away and hold it over my head with the snap of a finger.
It felt like I was a puppet, and she was controlling the strings. I didn't like that—I never liked that in my life. That's why I've always wanted to own my own business and control my own life.
Even with my current job, I control what I put out, and I'm in charge of making people feel good and tipsy to earn those tips.
Still, I'm grateful for this opportunity.
I just got out of the shower and wrapped a towel around myself. I went to my mirror to do my skincare routine and noticed the faint purple bruise on my neck. It wasn't too visible, but if someone got close enough, they'd see it.
I touched it and winced slightly. I was pissed.
I couldn't believe Lauren brushed me off, not even willing to hear what I had to say. I wanted her to listen, but what can I do if someone doesn't want help?
She's been giving me the cold shoulder ever since; we literally just pass each other like strangers. I was finishing up my skincare when I heard her and him talking. Oh, hell no. I don't want him in this apartment ever again.
I made a mental note to bring it up with her—I don't care how she feels about it.
I finished my skincare and checked my phone. My mom and sister had texted, of course—but I looked for a message or call from her.
Nothing since Monday, after I left her office. I know I said I was done, but she's the one who messed up. Was it that easy for her to just say fuck me?
I did wake up to a wire transfer notification with a deposit, but I still wanted to see a text or something from her. Show me you care and don't want to lose me...
I oiled and lotioned my body, put on my clothes, and did my hair. Grabbing my keys and bag, I checked my phone; it was 6:30. I had 30 minutes to get there. I walked into the living room and saw Lauren making herself a bowl of cereal.
"Good morning," I said. Of course, she didn't respond. I laughed and shook my head.
"Something funny?" she asked.
This girl really don't know me forreal. I will whoop her ass.
"I said good morning, and usually when somebody says that, you respond with 'Good morning,'" I replied. "Anyway, I don't want him back in this apartment."
"Girl, what?" She scrunched up her face.
"I told you he put his hands on me on Monday, and I'm damn sure you've seen this bruise on my neck," I said.
