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Another Thursday, another appointment to go to. Stephan has been keeping May occupied.

One thing Theresa's always wondered is how women manage to use mascara every day and not lose all their lashes by the end of the week. She loses five every night in the battle with make-up removing wipes.

Grasping the edge of the sink, she leans into her mirror to perfect her lipstick. Smashbox in Miss Conduct never smudges - keeps her clients wondering.

From the bathroom, she hears the chime of her black case on her bed.

*hi*

*unknown number*

A new client perhaps? She's late - this guy will have to wait.

Three more chimes before she steps out of the room.

*it's Jake*

*Stephan's roommate??*

*he just texted me your number for emergencies*

What the hell are emergencies? But before she can properly —

*he can't make dinner today*

*got called into a conference call last minute at work*

Dinner? Theresa wonders whether he already discovered her relationship to Stephan. Is it wrong to hope not?

*sorry*

Oh. Oh well, she's just all dolled up now.

Should she reply to him? Yes, right? She should, he might be worried she didn't get it.

Ok, should suffice. Maybe better alright. No, no problems is fine. Should she add the exclamation mark at the end?

Why is she stressing over what to respond to a client's roommate?!

*no problems*

*thank you for letting me know*

There.

Well, 8 o'clock is still early enough to go out. She can finally meet her friends - they've been prodding her to stop studying and leave her apartment for ages. Not that they have any idea what she spends her nights doing.

Better that way. May is never a subject she wants to discuss.

10 mins later and perfumed, Theresa steps out of the building's elevator.

The last thing she sees before the streets is her bank statement.

Way to ruin a night before it even beings.


A U T H O R ' S  N O T E

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