Swara-Ann Posted December 23, 2017 Share Posted December 23, 2017 Like, Origins N' Stuff So, like, I suppose you're wondering how I ended up in this mess, Didi. First, sit down and I'll you all about it. Do you remember that night when I ended up having to work instead of going to the party where the gross old men were going to throw a few hundred dollars our way to hang on their arms all night? Free food, drinks, a couple lines in the bathroom, groovy time right? Well except that one time when I did my first line and was so amped up we almost got arrested. That weird cop friend of your will not stop calling me by the way. I appreciate that he totally let us go since you gave him my number, but he keeps calling me 'waifu', which is dumb because if he wants 'waifu' why doesn't he just go to the MacDonalds on 86th street? They have free waifu all day and all you have to do is order a coffee. Anyway, moving past Andy... this is how it all went down, and don't freak out. And stop looking at me like that, I know I screwed up... “Hey bitch!” Deidre poked her head into the apartment of her best friend and long time partner in crime. She was a tall brunette woman with with perfectly manicured fingernails and glossed lips. Tonight she was in heels and black party dress that tight, short, revealed enough of her hiked up cleavage that Swara knew she was up to no good tonight. “Where you at, ho?” She stepped into Swara's small living room. The lighting was terrible, threatening to siphon all the color and joy from anyone who basked in to for too long. Even the solid black of Deidre's dress seemed bland and depressing as she stepped from the hallway, which was no better. Her drab green wall were a combination of broken plaster and water stains. The living room was bare, just a large empty room with several pairs of shoes, some with no mates, strewn about in no discernible order. It connected to her bedroom and her dining room through separate doorways to her left and right respectively. The light from the kitchen, off from the dining room, was on and faintly lighting up the dining area's meek table that had a pile of envelopes that Deidre assumed was bills and local advertisements. Swara kept a pretty neat home, aside from the clothes she left everywhere like a teenage girl might. “In here!” Her friend called out from the bedroom. Deidre walked in to see her her friend pulling up black leather shorts that barely preserved her modesty over black lace panties that she was pretty sure were hers. Deidre had known Swara for about two years now, since her bestie first arrived in New York. It had taken Swara all of a week to end up broke, robbed, and trending late on all her bills. The blond bombshell wasn't much in the brains department, but Didi (as Swara called her) had to admit she was gorgeous. She wanted to pursue a career in music and singing, and with her looks, body, and voice, Didi knew she had the talent for it. “What the fuck, girl? I thought we were going out?” “I'm sorry,” Swara replied with a shameful whine to her voice. She yanked a white tee shirt off her dresser and pulled it over her head. It covered the matching bra and tightly hugged her frame. Her breasts now pleasantly advertised 'Knockers', as if anyone looking at her wasn't able to do the math on their own. “Casey called out, only two girls are there tonight, it's a Friday... they're going to be slammed. I'm sorry, Deeds... forgive me?” “Casey? The ginger? That bitch ever show up?” Deidre sighed, trying not to be mad, but Swara knew she was. They'd been planning this Friday party for a few weeks now. “Look, fuck them. That cesspool doesn't always have to be your problem, hun. Every time someone calls out, you're first on Lenny's list. Tell him to get someone else for once!” “I can't. Deeds, I'm a month behind on rent and it's due again in a few weeks, I need the cash. Lenny says I really bring the 'party crowd', and they tip really well. Don't know why any of the other girls don't but he says I do, sooo...” She shrugged, moving past Deidre to collect her scunci from where it was hanging from the lamp near her bed. She pulled her back into a tight golden ponytail. “Seriously, have you seen your booty in those shorts?” Didi asked with a raised eye brow. “No, why? Is it bad?” Swara turned and looked to her with a worried expression. “Because I have seven pounds I've been trying to loose since Thanksgiving. I totllly pigged out for like, three days over at that Buffet Buffet place on Flatbush. Oh, my, gawd it was sooooo good. Although I don't know why they named it twice.” She clulessly shrugged and went to rummaging around for the mate to the white Chuck Taylor she was holding. “Baby Girl, what's this?” Didi picked up a news paper lying on the nightstand where Swara kept her scrunci's. It had a circled ad for 'Medical Testing' with age old scam line of 'We Pay Well'. Poking her head up from the end of her bed Swara took a moment and guessed what she was holding. “Nothing, really. Something I was considering doing. They pay like fifteen-hundred bucks. It'd put me back in the blue. I could seriously use the money right now.” “It's back in the black, sweetie, and no it won't. Baby Girl, we've been friends for what? A couple years now? I have trained you to survive this city, girl... and honestly a bit surprised you've lasted this long because of how-” Swara looked at her with her clueless, doe eyes that Didi knew didn't have a whole lot going on behind them. The poor girl was a classic ditz, not because she was stupid, but because she was just... to darn sweet and adorable to let pure banality that was New York crush her spirit. She liked kittens, and the color pink, and she even named the rats in her apartment so they felt like they were more welcome. Swara was just in a class her own, so when came to being honest with her, Didi sometimes had a hard time with the truth. “Uh, pretty. How pretty you are. Because most girls as hot as you are turning tricks in strip clubs for that easy cash... but you keep powering through.” Her laugh would have been unconvincing to anyone else, but Swara smiled brightly, happy with the compliment. “Swara, this is a bad idea. What have taught you about New York, huh? What's Rule #1?” Swara's eyes rolled back and forth in thought for a moment and with a beaming smile she pointed proudly and proclaimed, “No ass play unless they make over six figures a year!” Didi flushed a bit red trying to hold in her laugh. “Uh, noooo, but it warms my heart you were listening that day. Swara, Rule #1 is don't trust anyone in this city.” She looked at her best friend, the worried look in eyes warned Swara of her genuine concern. “This could be a scam. I don't want you raped and dead in a dumpster while some douche bag sicko is selling your spare parts on Craig's List.” She approached her friend and cupped her cheeks in her hand, smooshing her face. “Promise me you won't do this,” the pause was a bit too long for her and her concern grew. “Swara, I'm serious. Please, promise me?” “Fine.” Like a child be scolded, Swara wasn't too keen on the idea of loosing out on that kind of money, but she was working tonight, so that would cushion her losses. “I won't go, but you gotta do my make up before I go to work, I'm tired and lazy and you're here.” Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
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