Stressed Spelled Backwards |Lesbian Story|

Chapter 6

Elise was invited to stay and have dinner with the executives and celebrities almost every night. Sometimes, we didn't even see her for a whole week. She would call to tell me she was in Barcelona or Mumbai doing a photoshoot. Sometimes, we didn't hear a word from her.

Once, Karmen just lost it and jammed all Elise's clothes into her suitcase, zipped it up and left it out in the hallway. I wasn't there to stop her. I was in the café trying to find any job online. Then at one in the morning, Elise showed up, good-natured as ever, suitcases in hand.

"Sorry," she said and began to unpack.

Karmen blew up. "Sorry? Sorry? We're almost homeless, and you're out there having a damn good time. Now, what are we supposed to do, go down to the street and stand like a statue for money?"

I was starting to consider it. It could be a life-saving occupation if it came to that.

Elise just shrugged. "I was working."

"Right! Working as you eat lobsters and drink champagne while we had peanut butter sandwiches," Karmen scoffed. I hated to admit it, but sometimes, Karmen and I stalked Elise's Instagram to see her frolicking at some paradise-like island with other models. Karmen even went further to report her pictures for nudity (though Elise was just looking too hot in bikinis).

"Are you stalking me on social media?" Elise said, narrowing her eyes.

"Well, Elise," I said. "The important thing right now is that we're broke. And the rent is due in two days. We don't have any money."

"I got paid, guys, don't worry," she said with a smile and went to her room. I let out a sigh of relief. Karmen looked a little embarrassed, but she tried to act cool.

"I'll pay Princess Peach back," she said.

"If we find a job," I said.

"When we find a job," she said. "I refuse to take her money."

I felt the same way, but it seemed Elise was our breadwinner for now.

~*~

Living for a week on seventeen bucks was a special talent. Every penny counted. Repugnant as the thought of handing money to Celie was, we decided to eat in the deli. There was just so much tuna fish and peanut butter a girl could stomach, and we had enough cash for two corned beef sandwiches.

A few days later, Karmen decided that enough was enough, so she got a job as a waitress at the deli. Well, the whole story happened faster than a farmer could milk a cow. It started when we found Ms. McHugh bending over with color drained from her face one morning. She was sent to the ER afterward and was now recovering from the high blood pressure. The doctor advised her to take a long rest. Celie had no replacement and decided to ask if any of us wanted to take a part-time job waiting at her deli. I was surprised that Karmen agreed. It was that time that we realized we had hit rock bottom.

Karmen had her waitress uniform the next day. She pretended that she was just helping out while Ms. McHugh was sick.

"Some pride to swallow, eh?" Elise said to her as we sat down at our table. Karmen looked like she wanted to kill her with a spoon.

"May I take your order, your highness?" she said. I tried to civilize them by taking up the conversation to another direction.

"So how long are you going to work here?" I said.

"Until I stumble upon two million dollars on the street that is," she said sarcastically. I kind of felt bad for her. I would have taken up the job but Celie only offered one position.