“You’re driving him crazy.”
“Hmm. I just know if he sees me with you-”
We were interrupted by a loud banging on the door.
“Delia, open the door,” commanded a voice as I looked over to her. She loosened my shirt, ruffling my hair as she wiped the lipstick from her finger over my lips.
“Ready?” she whispered, opening the door a crack breathlessly. “What? Can’t you see I’m busy?”
I chuckled to myself at her acting skills before checking my phone.
ZANE:
I’m bored. What are you doing?
I typed out, unable to resist texting Layla. I dropped my phone into my pocket as the large man named Marty pushed into the bathroom, making it much smaller than it needed to be.
“Uh, I’ll just be outside...” I murmured, slipping past his bulky frame as he glared at me with anger.
“A break, Marty!” I heard Delia trill from inside the bathroom, the door closing softly behind me. My phone vibrated in my pocket as I saw a response.
LAYLA:
I’m bored too. It’s a Saturday night, and you’re an escort. Are you really bored?!
ZANE:
Even more so. I’d rather be curled up in bed watching Netflix.
LAYLA:
That’s so me right now.
ZANE:
Not fair. I’m at a party, but I think my time is coming to an end. I’m thinking a quick shower, black coffee, and a film…
LAYLA: Coffee at this hour?
I smiled as I ordered an Uber, ignoring the hungry stares from the woman standing across the street from me. She dragged on a cigarette, gazing at me as I averted my eyes.
ZANE:
Yeah, of course. I can’t sleep as soon as I get in. I have to unwind. What have you been doing today?
LAYLA: Wedding crap. Boring.
There it was, the reminder if I ever needed one. She was getting married.
ZANE:
Sounds like it.
LAYLA:
Haha. You have no idea.
ZANE:
