𝐖𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝟏𝟎𝟏 (𝟏𝟖+)

𝐗𝐗𝐕𝐈

• 26 •

The sky was the color of a spanked ass—a cheek that met a palm multiple times.

The sun was setting and I did not know whether the wetness on my body was sweat or the remains of my shower. I groaned. Yeah, probably sweat. Great. Mentally cursing my life, I tore through the mountain of old shoes, wondering how on Earth I was able to collect dozens of pairs and why I still wear the same sneakers everyday.

Ralph, just as sweaty from racking my closet which has proven itself to be bigger than it looks, spoke, "I don't want to say that you're subconsciously picking Keenan, but I think you're subconsciously picking Keenan."

I glared at the tangle of shoelaces to be unknotted when I find time. "I don't want to say that I want you to shut up, but I think I want you to shut up and help me look for those goddamn shoes." I told my friend. Thing's woulda been a hell lot easier if I lived in a gigantic castle with self-organizing walk-in closets. Pity.

I can't even remember the exact pair I'm looking for. The design had faded from my memory. All I know is that they have square heels—a life hack, and are black faux leather; the not-so-shiny kind. My eyes widened in victory when I found one out of two. Shit, when have my feet demanded this much luxury?

Ralph spoke again, totally not helpful, "The man told you to come as you are. This," he said before gesturing down my body, "is not you."

I stood up and abandoned the mess on the floor. My hands found my hips. "I am me but with more makeup than usual and a gorgeous dress." I proclaimed. Gianna is Gianna. Gianna is me. I'm still me, just a tad bit dolled up.

The boy's brows etched together. He spoke, "I smell denial," and dramatically sniffed the air which smells like dust, "Denial and Lancôme parfum, Giababes."

My eyes widened, feeling the balls pop out of their sockets. "Oh, god, did I put on too much?" I pinched the front of my dress and stretched the fabric to my nose, smelling. I smell good. Too good? Too strong? Fuck, should I have chosen the Viktor and Rolf instead?

Instead of answering, Ralph rolled his eyes and crouched. His hand dove into the pile of footwear and produced half of my wanted pair. He gave me a bored look before uttering "Are these what you were looking for?"

How did I not see that? "Fuck yes," I snatched the black shoe, "Go, I gotta get ready. He'll be here in no time." I wouldn't have kicked Ralph out if Keenan wasn't minutes away from knocking on my door. It would be odd, no? Finding another man in your date's apartment when you come to pick her up.

The young man crossed his bare arms, sporting one of his usual muscle tees. "Good luck, and please remember that these walls aren't as thick as they look." he sent a pointed glare at the wall dividing our units, "I need sleep." he said.

"No promises," I started stomping to the door, pushing him out. Ralph is one lightweight man, "Earphones exist." I added. I've heard too many moaning women before from Ralph's place. The noise I'd make tonight would be payback.

Have I accepted the fact that I'll be fucking Dig Bick Keenan Travino at the end of the night? Yes. Yes, I have. Am I guilty? Yes. Yes, I am. Will I do it anyway? Yes. Yes, I will.

I sat on my small couch and put my shoes on. Once they were secure, I threw the other pairs back into their rightful hole. My feet took me to my bathroom to retouch what I can retouch. The sweat under my boobs were pissing me off. I stared at my face.

I don't seem much different. Aside from my usual look, I added some eyeliner and went for a different shade of matte lipstick. Ralph was talking bullshit. I'm me. I'm as Gia as usual. Shaking my head at the ridiculous thought of trying hard to look good, I leaned forward and added more mascara. It wasn't noticeable. I added another layer.