Mirage (A Chris Brown Story)

Chapter Eighteen.

Arielle's P.O.V.

So, it's safe to say that without my best friend I would go mad, talking to E about the situation with Chris and all of my insecurities was seriously like therapeutic or some shit.

E tried to get me and Baby Girl to stay with her, but I eventually talked her out of that. She didn't have nearly enough space in her one bedroom apartment, what with her already sleeping on the pull out sofa while Cammy took the only bedroom, and on top of that I love my best friend, I do, but I could never live with her. She's the type of psycho bitch that doesn't understand the concept of 'just because you're awake doesn't mean that you have to wake everyone in the damn house up'! She wakes up before eight o'clock stomping, slamming shit and just being loud as hell knowing full damn well that my ass can't fully function until at least ten o'clock! She's been that way for as long as I can remember. I remember having to wake up before her back in elementary school when we had slumber parties just to save myself the headache. Eating my bowl of cereal half dead ass sleep and what not. Trust me, that's never the proper way to enjoy your damn 'Fruity Pebbles'!

So, eventhough we weren't staying with Eboni, she still agreed to keep Baby Girl while I ran some errands, since she had a week off of work.

A friend of a friend of hers works at a music company and mentioned how they could get me a paid internship, copying papers and getting coffee for workers, that type of thing. I've never been one to necessarily work good for others, but desperate times call for desperate measures.

As I walk down the busy streets of Washington D.C. I feel a squeeze in the base of my stomach. I mean I'm dressed in an uncomfortable pin skirt and a loose white blouse with them weird ass ruffles around my neck. This shit isn't me! I'm heading to a job interview for a job that I don't necessarily want, where I'm going to have to pretend to be someone that I sure as hell isn't and never will be!

I'm so lost in my thoughts that I don't even realize that I've rammed into someone until I feel their steaming hot coffee spill down my cleavage!

"Shit" I step back from the person as I gaze down at the spot on my blouse that will most definitely stain.

"Watch where the fuck you're going! " the man snaps at me with a shove as he continue to hastily walk down the busy streets.

I glance behind me, hoping to maybe see who the man was or what he looks like but to no avail, because the only thing that I can see is a head if nicely styled curly sandy brown hair.

"Rude ass city people, " I mumble to myself as I try to think out what it is I'll do next.

I can't go to this damn interview with this large ass brown stain on my shirt, nor can I necessarily go buy a new shirt, without being late!

I glance down at the thin banded black watch on my wrist and realize that I need to make a decision and quick. So I swiftly take off the blouse and throw it in a nearby trash can. I never liked that ugly ass thing in the first place! I then grab some pearl earings and a necklace out of my purse. Don't ask me why I have them on me, it's a long story involving my very superstitious mother.

Knowing that the red tight fitted razorback tank top and black skirt was as good as it was gonna get, I tuck the tank top in and walk into the building.

Now, considering how fancy this place is and how prestige the employees here are, I get some crazy, disapproving looks as I walk up to the front desk, but I don't let that affect my stride and I keep my head held high.

When I reach the receptionist at the front desk she continues typing away on her computer as if I'm not there. I clear my throat, loudly, hoping that she'll get the hint and look up at me but she doesn't.