KENDALL
A habit I would probably never do away with, is picking up my phone the moment I open my eyes.
My clients are always in need of urgent dresses, it's exhausting most times.
Let's talk over coffee - text sat pretty on my screen. Another one from Romain.
I rush into the shower and out. Everything looks so disorganized. I might consider Jayla's idea of hiring someone for the clean up.
Jayla walks into my room as I'm about to walk out.
"Need anything?" I say while picking up my bag and gadgets.
"Not really."
"Move it then."
"Easy. I'm just here for your wardrobe."
"You might as well help me arrange as compensation." I laugh before leaving the house.
Romain stands leaning on his car with legs crossed right in front of my house. I walk towards him.
"I'll give you a ride."
"I don't remember ordering a cab."
"Drop the attitude, Kendall. Get in." He says sternly, and I'm a bit taken back by this new side of Romain.
As much as I do not want to be ordered around, I might as well let us have a final talk.
"Okay."
I step inside his car and there's a cup of coffee. I guess the talk will be done here then. Better.
"You look beautiful." He says.
"Thank you. I kind of forgot to check the mirror before stepping out." I say and he smiles. Glad that I took out a bit of the tension.
The ride is quiet, but I shift from my seat as he parks in front of a restaurant.
"Breakfast?" He says and I nod. We both walk in.
"I really need your help, Ken." He pleads, and for a minute I catch a glimpse of desperation in his eyes.
Romain and desperate in a sentence is very unimaginable.
"There are tons of girls you can use to pull your shit. Why are you being so persistent?"
"Exactly. There are a lot of girls I can pull this with, and my father knows that. With you, it will be different."
"How different?"
"Everyone in Paris knows you, Kendall. You're definitely not one to be in a fake relationship. That's a good cover up, already." He pauses to take in my reaction which he didn't get. "I can't believe I have to plead this hard yet I've not gotten a single positive response from you." He says now looking frustrated.
The words seem to lock in on me but I lift my head just in time to see Drey walk in with a pretty blonde lady. Our eyes meet, but he looks away immediately, probably pretending to look for something he didn't even have on.
A pang of jealousy hits me. My emotions are stirring up, and God help me so I don't break down right now. She gets all touchy and clingy with him so I look away. My vision begins to blur out but I can't be caught up being the vulnerable one. Never.
They're both about to walk past our table when I say out loud, "Yes, I'll be your girlfriend." With the sweetest fake smile.
Drey pauses for a second, looks over before getting dragged away by the blonde lady.
Romain on the other hand looks a little bit too excited for a fake relationship.
"Thank you, Ken. Fuck! Thank you." He says like he just won a lottery. Or maybe I'm a prize to hold on to.
The whole morning coffee thing keeps recurring to me. I'm in a fake relationship with Romain Arsenault just because I couldn't keep my jealousy in check?
Was Drey cheating on me? With a blonde girl?
I'm restless as I keep swinging the scissors in my hand deep in thoughts. I'm about to drown in a sea of my emotions. I need help.
My phone chimes. It's a message from Romain.
The company is hosting a party this weekend. For shareholders.
Be my plus one? - it reads.
I sigh loudly as I drop my phone on the table in a loud bang. What did I get myself into?
The sound of my phone ringing draws me out of my thoughts. It's Jayla.
"Hey girl." She goes from the other side. I know she's up to no good today.
"Did you get a job?" I ask knowing it's a kill joy to her.
"You just had to turn me off."
Jayla has a degree in Business Management, and has been an administrative manager for my fashion house - KENDIRA FASHION HOUSE since. I like to call her jobless.
"I'm sorry." I laugh.
"Oh well, for compensation. I'll be obtaining something of yours.
"For a moment I thought you changed."
"I could never even if I tried."
"What is it you want to steal from me this time?"
"The classic designs from your closet." She says and my smile fades a bit.
"Do your thing, ma'am."
"I love you, bitch!" She squeals and I laugh out loud.
"Whatever."
Jayla moved with me to Paris years ago. I could barely believe my ears when she said she chose Paris for college too.
I felt comforted and more confident about my decision to leave the US. We've been like a nail in a wood since - hard to separate.
Riley had once told me Jayla was living off me, and that is the silliest joke I have ever heard. Jayla's availability in my life is more than enough for me. She is like a support system.
I twirl on my chair, reminiscing on everything that has been going on so far. It feels like my life got messy in less than a week.
I put a call through to my biggest fan.
"Hey, let's have lunch together. I miss you." I say to Amira. She will be my channel to get rid of my troubles for the day.
"You saw me this morning, Ken."
"I did. I know. Still, I miss you."
"You're unbelievable. I'll be out of class in 20 minutes."
"I'll pick you up." I say before hanging up.
My relationship with Amira isn't all lovey dovey. She's my whole world but we are barely ever expressive about our emotions towards each other - that has always been a Jayla thing.
Amira is my greatest cheerleader, only at the cost of making designer outfits for her for almost every occasion.
My phone rings. It's a strange number.
"Hello" I say but there seems to be a buzz on the other side.
"Is this Miss Kendall, sister to Amira?"
"Yes, it is." I say, giving more attention.
"Amira just had an attack, we can't seem to find an inhaler in any of her bags." I reach out for my keys only to realize I didn't drive today.
"Fuck!"
"Hello, ma'am. Are you still on the line?"
"Yes! I am." I pull the drawer beneath my desk and take out an inhaler.
"She's currently at the school clinic but she's in a bad state."
I try to compose myself. My face grows hot as I storm out of my office in a race.
Amira is asthmatic, and over the years her symptoms seem to grow worse. She once stopped responding to inhalers and used only injections for a period of time. The doctor later recommended a stronger inhaler which cost a lot but do I mind?
I got one for her. One for keeps at home, and kept one with me.
"I need to be somewhere, Riley. I need your car key." I say with a shaky voice.
She hands the key without any hesitation. She can obviously read my body language and I'm sure I'm probably overreacting.
I fiddle with the car key, obviously frustrated, so I let out a deep sigh hitting the wheels with all my strength. It sends a loud honking sound that makes me jerk.
Trying to calm my nerves, I insert the car key and drive out of the parking lot.
Every form of orderliness seem to have left me, I passed the traffic, overtook cars. I almost collide with an incoming vehicle but my reflex takes the best of me and I hit the brakes leading to a screeching stop.
I lift my head to find out that the other car had come to a halt too.