1.5 – Player 7 – Barbarella

“No, girl, please, you’re killing me.” Barbarella clutched her cell phone in a sequin tipped talloned clutch. “Tell me you didn’t do that, girl.”

“Bitch, please. She was like gagging all over the bar, ruined a perfectly good Christian Dior knock off.” Seamus AKA Valkerie, said.

“Oh, girl,” Barbarella clucked. “Do you remember the time you and I got that bitch’s face trashed in?”

“Which one?” Valkerie simpered. “There are so many.”

“And we’re the top ones.”

“And don’t you forget it honey!” Valkerie’s laugh was like wine. “So what is miss thing wearing to the prom on Friday night?”

“I’m going to get it right now. Oh, girl, you should see this dress. It’s all black sequins and it flows. It’s gorgeous. You’re going to want three of them.”

“Bitch, why are you getting your dress? Isn’t that why you have a man?”

“Don’t start Valkerie. I so have not had a bump today.” She sighed. “Justin     won’t let me have my own credit card anymore. He won’t let me have any more of the sugar candy.”

“Shit, girl, what are men good for except fucking and fetching?”

“I know girl, like what the fuck. I’m like: shut up! You totally forgot my dress? And he was like all stupid writer face. And I was like shut up, I’m so over you, get over yourself.”

“I know, right, shut up! Whatever. I’m so over you. Get over it, girl.”

“Bitch, what does that even mean?”

Valkerie huffed out a snort. “Honey, like I’m supposed to know? Shit honey, why are you competing against all these young things anyways? You know they always fuck with the judges.”

“I’m going to win because I’ve been at it longer. I’ve held three titles, Valkerie. What did you get? Some puissant fucking title in a bar?” Barbarella’s voice was a soft hiss.

Valkerie let out a soft gasp. “Whatever. I’m so over you. Get over it, girl.”

There was a beep in Barbarella’s ear. “Hold on slut, I’ve got another call.”

She jabbed at the call button with a jab of her fat finger. Her cell phone was covered rhine stones. “What?”

“Do you know where your boyfriend is?”

“The hell you say?”

“Your boyfriend. Do you know where he is?”

“Who the fuck is this?”

“I can see him. He’s typing away on a computer. He’s got his headphones on. I wonder if he’s trying to block out the sound of your voice?”

Barberella had had enough. The man’s voice was like smoke in her blood, chilling her. “Look fucktard, I don’t know who you think you are, but if you-”

“But nothing sand for tits. When was the last time you looked at him? When was the last time you fucked his tight hole?”

Now she was pissed. “You listen to me, you fucksock son of a bitch, if I find out who you are, I’ll fucking cut you.”

“Not if I cut you first.” The voice was a quick chill of a whisper.

A click in her ear let Barberella know that the other person had ended the call. She stood there, staring at her phone. She didn’t know whether to be afraid of laugh. Unknowingly, her phone had switched back to the call already in progress.

Valkerie sat on the other end of the telephone, worried. “Honey?” She said. “Honey, Barbie sweetheart, are you okay?”

Her friend’s voice floated up to her but Barberella wondered if she would ever be okay again.

 

About Jamieson Wolf

Jamieson an award winning, number-one bestselling author. He writes in many different genres. Learn more at www.jamiesonwolf.com
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