1 1. Life: A Hot Mess

"You can't stop me lovin' myself!" The green eyed girl sang to herself while typing up another project on her laptop.

Being monolingual had its own perks. The green eyed girl could speak 5 different languages, all thanks to her inborn love for travelling.

Exploring other cultures and learning different forms of communication was her hobby and passion, I might add.

This girl made a profession out of her passion or so she claimed.

Well, that's what happens when you spend four years of highschool smoking cannabis and fucking around the male species.

Study?

She couldn't even probably recall the last time she did that.

Taking a deep puff of her cigarette, she blew out rings of smoke. She smiled proudly at the circular puffy figures, fascinated at how good she'd become at it.

The sudden ringing of her cell phone snapped her out of her self admiration session as she answered the call urgently.

"Yo man!" She greeted in her 'native' slang language.

She listened in to the receiver rant for a minute before she declined the call with a 'Cool. I'll be there in 10.'

Hurriedly, she typed up the remaining translation and once done, pressed the enter key with a click sound.

Shutting her laptop close, she stuffed it in her duffle bag and took another puff of her cigarette before tossing it in the trashcan and making her way out of the toilet stall she was in.

Why a toilet stall you may ask.

Simple as it is, that was the most convenient place for working, apparently for her. Additional point, it was free of cost!

She left the convenient store and took a walk to her destination.

Having walked for a couple of minutes, she started feeling cold as the chilling breeze caressed her exposed arms and shoulders, heavily covered in ink.

To warm herself up, she pulled out a cigarette from her back pocket along with a lighter. She ignited the lighter, as the flame came dancing into view.

She drew a deep puff while holding the cigarette between her lips and getting the flame to burn the tip of her cancer stick.

Her first puff choked her as she began coughing loudly.

It was racking, yes. But at the same time had a reeling effect on her. The pleasure it gave overtook her previous struggle in inhaling.

"Dayum. Such a strong smoke!" She exclaimed to herself, eyeing the cancer stick in between her thumb and index.

After another couple of minutes, a small lighted block came into view.

It was a relatively small place with huge china lamps hanging out the front door. The glass windows suggested it was dimly lit. A huge sign with the words "Thomas's" caught her attention as she skipped up to the bar.

A small bell rang indicating her arrival, as she glided through the wooden doors.

The place which appeared small from the outside was surprisingly huge on the inside. There were a few girls and guys filling up the space which was otherwise empty.

"Rachel Bennett? Is that you?" A voice called out, making the green eyed girl turn on her heels to be greeted with an overall good looking, elder man, looking at her expectantly.

"Yes, it's me." She informed him with a slight bow of head.

A small smile made its way onto the man's lips as he nodded at her and guided her to her workplace, behind the counter.

The man who introduced himself as Dylan with an additional surname of 'Exceedingly Handome' left her after explaining about her job.

Rachel sat serving others with a cheerful greet and bow of head. Occasionally, she'll have to deal with drunken perverts and dimwits but that wasn't a bother for her, provided they would go no far than flirting.

After almost about two hours, two guys came up to her asking for some whisky. She obediently poured them a shot each before going back to smoke some more.

In the corner of her eye, she caught both the guys staring at her with an unreadable yet somewhat nervous expression.

Instinctively, she turned to face them and after pulling her cigarette away, asked,"Something you need help with, gentlemen?"

The shorter one among the two, who had a skin pale as snow and mint green hair complimenting his features, pushed his glasses up his nose before asking, "How much do you charge?"

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