Lipstick (Luke Hemmings)

Chapter 3

[A/N]: I'm sorry I haven't updated in such a long time. Thank you so much for commenting and voting on the previous chapters. This chapter isn't really eventful but it's building up to different things - I promise! I think you'll like Harper though. Anyway, comment and vote.

“Harper, can you grill some chicken please?” 

Today was an unbelievably busy day; people were coming like a flock of birds hoping to find their nests and settle, but none of them were willing to settle in their own damn seats. So for me to help grill the chicken whilst getting them to their seats was a result of a higher wage because I had never multi-tasked like this in my entire life. 

I heaved heavily, slumping as I placed the orders onto their tables. The fact that this wasn’t a takeaway shop had troubled me ever since I had gotten this job – I mean – everyone loves KFC, they would obviously make this place packed with people. Pointing towards one of the back booths, I suggested to the couple that they should sit there. 

Ignoring half the people waiting in the queue for takeaway, I sauntered to the kitchen and slightly nudged Katherine out of the way, taking her matters into my hands. As I was grilling the chicken, more noise had erupted and the doors were being opened more frequently and more pressure was being put on me.

Sweat trickled down both sides of my head, making my hands feel clammy and tremble with trebled intensity. I held tightly onto the spatulas, carefully placing them on the mirrored stands so the people behind the counters could serve, but there was still so much to do.  

And then I heard laughter. 

“Harper, are you sure you can stay in the kitchen? You look like you’re going to faint and I know how pressurized you get when it’s hot and busy,” Katherine kisses her teeth and pushes me out of the kitchen. “Sit by a booth or something, rest.”

“Kath, it’s too busy for me to rest. Plus, I really want to get a higher wage tonight; I kind of want to start getting my life on track you know? Me multi-tasking will help, I’ll be fine, I pro –”

Katherine cut me off, “don’t promise me anything. Rest. Now.” 

I groaned and slid my feet across the floor, my back hunched. I couldn’t explain anything to hear and although I was talking absolute rubbish – I really did need to get my life on track. For all I knew, I could be working here for the rest of my life. I sat down on one of the hidden booths that had red veils in front of them. Katherine thought it was a nice touch to the place.

I just thought ‘ew’ every time I looked at it. 

I tantalizingly wiped my damp forehead which had hair practically clinging onto it in absolute disgust, my nose crinkling as I could feel how sweaty I was. That was the thing about me getting nervous – I’d sweat a thousand gallons and make sure that it was visible; I’d probably lose my voice and trade with some squeaky American voices everyone has these days. 

And Melanie – when we were ‘besties’ as she labelled us – used to always make it obvious (although it clearly was). She’d squeal ridiculously and shout and pretend to choke on vomit, which made my cheeks flush like blood was trying to escape my damn body and I’d always feel like my bladder was about to explode. 

“Ew, you look horrible.”

My eyes shot open and there I saw Melanie with abundant shopping bags from Forever 21 and Victoria’s Secret. I rolled my eyes and looked away, obviously trying to deter attention away from myself. She yelped inwardly, plopping the bags onto the floor and roughly closing the veils, having no care for its sensitivity. “Anyway, you wanna look at my new clothes?”