Okay. I've been on the pills for over a month now. I wouldn't say I can "feel" them working, but suddenly things bother me a lot less, so I'm aware of them when something that would've bothered me doesn't. To start with, I'm eating more. I could barely choke down two meals a day, which left me weary and sick for a lot of the time, but now I'm more or less normal.
Which, weirdly enough, made me start getting a period. I thought I was lucky, I hadn't bled at all the whole time I was here and I thought maybe Clara was one of the few girls that didn't get it at all, but I guess it sometimes has to do with dieting or eating disorders or whatever she's got. It was embarrassing as hell, I had to borrow a pad from one of my housemates, then go shopping for my own. Luckily at least one of the girls around here doesn't use tampons, because I am NOT down with those things.
But I guess because i was depressed, I didn't tell you a lot of stuff. I only ever seemed to talk about how frustrated I was, and that's all true. It's not like I loved dressing up to be a model, getting my hair done, putting make up on, shaving my body constantly and being stared at by everybody.
But it all happened. And suddenly, last Saturday night, there I am looking myself in the mirror, with all the mascara and lipstick and foundation and concealer on, putting my earrings in. I had a green evening gown on and I was even wearing a strapless bra. And the funny thing is what I was thinking as I looked myself in the mirror. The more of it I had, the girlier I looked, the more in-character I felt. If I get up in the morning and put on some jeans and a t-shirt, and just let my boobs hang because I don't wanna put a bra on, I feel like an asshole, but all dressed up like this, I could at least pretend I'm supposed to be this way. Sure, my underwear was riding up my crack, but other than that, I felt pretty sexy. Besides, it was just one night, and there was gonna be free booze. And I was gonna have Anthony nearby for support anyhow. If nothing else, I could lean on him if I tripped on my own dress.
So, we drove up to the dining hall where this even was being held. Anthony was looking good, having wrapped herself in this slick black gown with a corset that really pushed his tits up and accentuated his butt. Her butt. It's a girl's butt, I shouldn't keep talking about it like it's my friend Anthony's. She seemed pretty impressed at the lengths I went to... one of the girls in the house is a make-up artist, and it took some convincing since I'm not really in good with her, but she at least gave me a good price.
So we got in and were both instantly presented with champagne. Beautiful. We started talking, but Anth seemed distracted. Like she was looking for someone. The reason we were there was to shmooze, I figured there was some bigshot photog she wanted me to charm.
Eventually, we ran into Blake, one of the guys who's hired me a few times. He does a lot of ad campaigns, billboards and print mostly. He comes over to us and I wave "Hey!" and he gives me a nod before zeroing in on Anth. Soon as she's done her drink, he gets her another. They share private jokes. He's just giving her this uber-creepy look. Like, the "fuck-me" eyes. I wanted to yak.
I was trying to pull Anth away to the bathroom so I could save him from his advances, but I couldn't get a word in edgewise. The whole thing was making me uncomfortable, so I went off on my own, eventually going to the ladies' room anyway because three glasses of free booze just went right through me.
There, some bitch model asked what size I was wearing these days because the last time she saw "me" I looked way thinner. I didn't recognize her, but I wanted to deck her. I figure it'd be hard to get gigs with a broken nose and a black eye. I was wearing a ring, too.
When I got back to the main hall, I couldn't find Anth, which worried me. But I didn't have long to look for her because I got cornered by this guy. I wanted to push him away, but something about him seemed harmless, so if he was willing to put up with me repeatedly telling him how nothing was going to happen, I could stand to pretend to listen to his story. His name was Wesley Bridges, a rich entrepreneur type. I forget what his business is, but it doesn't really matter.
Then after about forty minutes, Anth and Blake re-appeared. And I was going to ask what happened, but it didn't take long to figure it out. Her hair was all ruffled. Her dress looked like it'd been taken off and put back on. And Blake... Blake had this smug fucking swagger like he had something to be proud of.
"What was that?" I asked through gritted teeth.
"Oh, he just wanted to talk a little business."
I glared at her. "That's all?"
"Yeah, Clara," she said, using my fake name like it was no big deal, "It was just business."
I didn't want to talk to her anymore. I didn't want to talk to anyone. I had a few more drinks, then found the guy from earlier, Wes, and asked if he'd take me home.
Except when I woke up the next morning, I wasn't home. No, I was lying in a stranger's bed, naked.
I leaned over the bed and horked all over the floor.
I slowly got up and checked the place. There was a bathroom attached to the room, where I scrubbed the crusty makeup off my face and rinsed my mouth. It was a guest room, you could tell because there wasn't any clothes in the dresser, but a man's robe in the closet. I slipped the robe on and clutched it tight, wandering the halls of this penthouse until I found a kitchen. He was standing there, in a polo shirt, making eggs, like in the movies or something.
"Where am I?"
"Wow, you were really out of it last night, huh? You couldn't remember how to get back to your place, so you came back here."
That sounds right. "And my clothes?"
"You threw up on yourself in my car," he said, "So when we got here, the first thing you did was strip down. Now, your bra and panties, you claimed, you were just sick of wearing."
Again, that also sounded right.
I asked, "You didn't see anything... did you?"
"I tried to look away. You made it pretty clear you weren't trying to put on a show."
He probably saw the look of shame on my face, though, cause then he clarified that we didn't do anything. I believed him because I feel like I would've noticed. He told me that he basically let me pass out in his guest room, and then he sat up with me to make sure I didn't get too sick.
"Yeah, I'm sorry," I said, "Last night was a bad night, I saw something that really messed me up."
"I understand, we all have our bad times."
"I've been having plenty of those lately. Sorry again, you seem like a really nice guy. You didn't need to be so nice to me. Probably any other girl there would've totally banged you."
He laughed a bit. "Yeah, that might be true. We'll never know. I don't know, I guess I just like a wreck."
Then I laughed. Yeah, I'm definitely that. "I'm gonna go change, then get a cab home."
"Oh, forget that. Have some breakfast with me, then we'll see if we can find your place."
I was starving. It would've been hard to turn down. So we sat and ate, pretty much in silence.
I was uncomfortable, naked except for the fabric of the robe. But I didn't leave, I didn't stop eating until I was full (a surprisingly big deal) and he was a gentleman, didn't try to hit on me. He just asked some questions about my past, what I did... I gave vague answers, "Oh I grew up around here, trying to be a model, but it's not really working out." That kinda thing.
He took me home, and I stayed quiet while I tried to convince myself I didn't see what I thought I did. It looked like Anth had snuck off to mess around with Blake, but it could've been anything.
"Hey, thanks for putting up with my craziness," I said. I don't know if I would have rescued some messy chick from a party when I could've gone for one who would screw me.
We finally got to my place. "Listen," he said, "I put my number in your phone. If you ever need anything... it might come in handy, someday."
"Yeah, we'll see."
I walked up the steps and back to my pathetic little life.