I See You Chapter 2

I was vacuuming the bedroom, and yes I mean singular, like any other day. Ever since I lost my virginity last week Ms. Myra and I have become, how do you say… closer. Then again that could just be her overprotective nature… she always has to know where I am at all times, that is if I’m not under her supervision. But lately Ms. Myra’s been a little, what’s the word… Ms. Myra comes up behind me and locks her arms around my neck. She then proceeds to lick my ear, oh yeah… naughty…  She pushes me down on the bed with her Amazonian strength, though she’s not fully Amazonian, she’s also part black. The proof is in her textured hair, which she keeps in a messy bun, and her long, slender face with piercing green eyes that smilingly stare into the depths of my soul. But what I still don’t understand, after a month living here, is what she sees in me. I mean, sure I’m an E-cup, but that’s pretty much where the excitement ends. The only other thing “eye-catching” about me is that I wear something red every day. Oh, and Ms. Myra told me that my eyes, grey and dull as they are, are “beautiful.” Some things I’ll never understand…

Just then Ms. Myra’s publicist, Ms. Cox, and her assistant, Mr. Connor, barged in. Seeing my panties before my face, damn, what a great first impression. “Ms. Wolf, we’re here to whisk you away to the Artists of NYC Award’s Party!” says Ms. Cox.

Ms. Myra sits up with her hand planted firmly on my mouth to keep me from calling for help, “And just what the Hell makes you think I’m going?”

“You wouldn’t have to do much,” Ms. Cox starts. “Just show up, be jovial and nice, say a few words, and you’re out of there.”

“Do I look jovial to you?” asks Ms. Myra with a snarl.

“Hell, you aint even nice…” says Mr. Connor under his breath.

Ms. Myra gets an evil glint in her eye, “Leave now if you value your life.”

“But c’mon,” pleads Ms. Cox. “You get to stay a weekend in a ritzy hotel overlooking Broadway. The lights that shine in the darkness of night, how do you say… romantic.”

Ms. Myra’s unimpressed, “And that’s supposed to entice me how?”

“True, you may stay in places like that all the time,” says Ms. Cox with a smirk, “But what about Shorty over there?”

Ms. Myra removes her hand from my mouth, “That sounds tight!” I exclaim. “I've never been to a ritzy hotel before… b-but only if Ms. Myra’s going. It wouldn’t be any fun without her…”

Ms. Myra sighs. Ms. Cox grins triumphantly, “Then it’s settled!”



                                                               

The Next Day

As I’m on my way home from the cleaners with a dress of Ms. Myra’s that she had altered to fit me, I start to second-guess myself. Sure I've never stayed at a ritzy hotel, I think to myself, but is it worth it if I have to go to this award ceremony in a dress that Ms. Myra picked out? And I took it sight unseen. For all I know it could have my whole ass hanging out… That’s when I pass the florists, and I think, oh, I haven’t gotten Ms. Myra anything to congratulate her for her award. I have, like, thirty dollars in my wallet. That should be enough to get her something nice.   

Okay, got the dress, got the flowers, I’m golden. So I head down to the Metro station. I know exactly where I’m going, and I know how much my ticket costs, but the lady in front of me didn’t know shit. She was looking at the subway map like it had three heads or something. I decide to help her since she’s holding up the line, “Do you know where your headed Miss?”

“The Nomad hotel off Broadway,” she says.

“Ah, I’m headed there too,” I say. “It’s W Broadway, so you take the Yellow Line, that’s three dollars.” When she reaches into her wallet for the money two ten thousand dollar bills (A/N: yes they do make those) fall out. I snatch them up and hand them over to her before anyone could see. She must be bourgee, which explains why she doesn’t know how to ride the Metro… Her face was long and slender like Ms. Myra’s and she was light-skinned like her. But her hair was a wavy jet-black that went to her mid-back. In other words, she was gorgeous. N-Not that I like girls or anything…

She sees the roses in my hand, “Do you like flowers? She asks.

“Uh, oh these aint mine, they’re a gift. But I don’t think anyone wouldn’t be happy to get flowers.” That’s when I see Ms. Myra’s latest work displayed as a poster promoting the award ceremony. “Her artwork is legit, if I weren't in Med school, I’d want to be just like her.”

“Her work is pedestrian at best,” says the woman.

Well that was kind of mean, not that I have any reason to defend Ms. Myra. “Oh, what don’t you like about her work?”

“Her work isn't even worth looking at.” Before I could say anything we come to our stop.

We make it to the hotel, Ms. Myra told me where to go when I get here, but I call her anyway. “Hey, I'm here. Where are—“before I could finish the elevator doors open to reveal Ms. Myra and Ms. Cox. “Hahaha, damn, how do you do that?”

Ms. Myra’s eyes widen as she sees who I’m with, “Red, why are you with this woman?”

“Oh, we met at the Metro station. Why is she a friend of yours?” I ask.

Ms. Cox steps in, “I wouldn't say ‘friend’. This is Tasha Wolf, Myra Wolf’s older sister.”

At this point I have a strange look frozen on my face. “Didn't you get the invite I sent you? The ceremony’s tomorrow.” asks Ms. Cox.

“Ceremony, what ceremony? I’m here for a meeting and nothing else, especially if that ceremony is to celebrate that pedestrian artist that produces mediocre work at best.” says Ms. Wolf. “And the only reason she became an ‘artist’ was because she failed at Med school. But in the end a failure is a failure no matter what you call yourself.”

“Bitch, what do you know?” I say. “You aint ever seen her work! And besides that, how could you say such whack things to your own sister? If anyone’s a failure it’s you. At least Ms. Myra’s passionate about her work, while you’re probably the heir to a company you don’t even want!” I grab Ms. Myra’s arm and head into the elevator. “So who’s the real failure?” I say as the doors close.



                                               

Later in the Room

“That bitch don’t know who she messing with.” I say still fuming.

“Calm down young lady.” orders Ms. Myra. “Things between my sister and I have always been like this. So It doesn’t bother me… but on the other hand, I couldn’t imagine if she were gone.” She says. She turns to look at me and sees tears welling up in my eyes, “Oh Rebecca I’m sorry for being so careless.”

“No,” I say wiping the pre-tears from my eyes. “I was the one who was careless, I shouldn’t have told off your sister without your permission. And for that I’m sorry.”

She tousles my hair, “You know, you don’t always have to be so considerate of other people. Think of yourself for once.” I try to dispute but she knocks me onto the bed and climbs on top of me, then to silence me even further she plants a passionate kiss on me. “You don’t have to pretend with me,” she says coming up for air. “I see you.”

“… I see you too.”