DJ admired Heather as she spun around to show off her strapless crimson dress, "So, are you excited for the big night?" He handed her the tan bridesmaid dress and a chic black purse for his colleague.
"God yes, I've been waiting for this night for like…" she trailed off as she slung the purse over her shoulder. It was time for her departure and, although she would never say it to them aloud, she had missed her friends more than she let on.
"Six months?" he offered.
"No, longer. I feel like I've been waiting for this my whole life and now finally something worthwhile is happening," she twirled around and checked herself out in a nearby mirror, admiring the slight curls framing her face, "All the B-Faces are going to be back together again. Not to mention the fact that I got a spray tan for this and I can't let it go to waste."
"Well it sounds like you're all set then," DJ felt the excitement emanating from his coworker and was glad to see that for the first time there was something that she was looking forward to. Before they could continue their discussion, a customer popped out of the dressing room, she noticed the two employees and decided to get a second opinion for her latest fashion endeavors.
She straightened out the bottom of the brightly patterned orange striped dress and adjusted the brown belt, "Um, do you guys think I can get away with this, or do I look like I'm just one of the help?"
Repressing her true opinions Heather's signature fake smile graced her lips, "No, you look super cute. You totally pull it off." The woman smiled and looked back down at her outfit while Heather turned to DJ and scrunched her nose up as if she had smelled something putrid and looked disgusted by this woman's poor taste.
However, the stranger noticed and immediately took offense to this blatant act of disrespect, "Excuse me? Did you just make a face at me?"
Heather looked to DJ for help and all he could do was flounder with his words in an attempt to salvage the situation, "U-uh sorry ma'am, blind, uh blind. She's legally blind her vision started going recently—"
"Wow, very fucking professional," the fashionably inept woman turned and stormed back into the dressing room while Heather just shrugged.
"Anyway, I gotta go get on the train. You have the details for the bachelorette party, right?" her friend nodded at the question and slyly winked.
"Yep, I'm all good," Heather smirked at his affirmation and chuckled as DJ handed her a bundle of singles. "Just in case."
She grinned and slipped the cash into her bag, "You think of everything."
"I try."
"Wish me luck, even though I don't need it," with a dramatic flip of her hair, Heather strutted out of the store, but not before calling out to the woman she had insulted, "The dress looks really good on you."
"Fuck you," the woman called out, only halfway done with changing back into her regular attire.
DJ simply shook his head knowing that although she denies it, Heather would need lady luck on her side tonight more than ever.
"And for the love of God, please don't wear boots," Courtney leaned against the cool kitchen wall of the hotel and ate a raspberry off her pointer finger.
"Fucking hell," Gwen rasped out as she ran around her studio apartment in an attempt to find her stash that she had somehow misplaced. She was already running a few minutes behind and if she couldn't find this she knew her friend would personally fly over to her, decapitate her, and then fly back just in time for the wedding to look like a perfect bridesmaid.
Courtney had a sixth sense for her friend's misfortune but had more pressing issues to worry about, "Look, just get your shit together fast. Ok? Don't you dare miss this flight."
Grabbing the small plastic bag of cocaine, Gwen dumped it into an empty vitamin bottle to conceal it from the prying eyes of security or any sane person opposed to narcotics. She huffed in annoyance at the pestering comments, "I'm not the one who's getting fucking married, stop yelling at me. Jesus Christ."
"What are you even doing right now?"
Frustrated, she quipped back, "Wow, you're such a calming maid of honor, Courtney. You're gonna give me a heart attack chill out."
Before she could dignify that with a response Courtney noticed one of the chefs adding a little too much powdered sugar on one of the miniature chocolate cakes and abruptly intervened, "Mind taking it a little easy on the sugar? How is she supposed to wear her dress tomorrow if she can't even fit into it?" Pulling the PDA away from her ear she snatched a strawberry off the countertop and spotted the wedding planner.
"You, Sydney," Courtney yanked her aside as she walked down the kitchens narrow hall with the purple-haired woman.
She wore a confused look on her face that quickly shifted to irritation, "It's Sierra."
Taking a bite into her fruit and rolling her eyes, Courtney ignored the correction, "Whatever, I need you to send a limo to JFK. Got it? And I need champagne sent up to my suite."
"Wait, I thought we cancelled the bachelorette party?" Sierra quizzically looked back down at her clipboard to see if she had missed something in her notes, but they showed no indication of this sudden change.
"Listen, plans have changed. The bride wants a bachelorette party now."
"Ok, well then why am I the last one to know?"
Courtney could barely stand the confused rambles and finished off her strawberry. She snatched the dry-cleaned dress out of Sierra's hands before leaving her with a final retort, "I can't even believe you are getting paid for this and I'm just a good friend," and with that she stormed through the doors and out into the lobby leaving behind a speechless woman.
Halfway through her flight, Gwen attempts to sink back into her economy class chair only to find herself left with an uncomfortable pain in her lower lumbar region. The cries of a fussy toddler rang in her ears and she wanted to bang her head on the seat in front of her, but she only had a few more hours left and there had to be a way to pass the time. Surveying the passengers around her, she took note of a slightly overweight man playing a game on his Nintendo. She decided he would make the perfect victim for her choice of casual conversation.
"Hey what's your name?"
The man with curly brown hair looked over at her only slightly startled at the interruption of his gaming, "U-uh, Sam."
Wasting no time, Gwen dived right into the conversation, "Nice to meet you. I'm Gwen. So, I have this theory about blowjobs, if you want to hear it." She quirked up a single eyebrow as a smirk danced on her face.
Attempting to get out a response Sam stuttered, extremely taken aback at the straightforwardness, "Y-yeah. Uh, yeah sure."
"Yeah?"
Bewitched by the sly woman, Sam felt an impulse to hear what she had to say. He adjusted himself in his seat and turned to face her a bit more comfortably, with no falter being present in his voice, he nodded, "Sounds interesting enough."
"I personally think that blowjobs are like a very delicate thing. I mean, if we're ranking them from a scale of one to ten, with ten being like absolutely mind-blowing and you've just like ascended to heaven," she makes a variety of hand gestures and counts out the numbers on her fingers.
Sam merely nods at her words and before he can even formulate a coherent thought, she's already continued down the rabbit hole, "Then you have to start with four's and five's, so it's just enough that you know that I know what I'm doing. But there's zero energy behind it because if I'm giving you nothing you just think 'Alright, I'll just fuck her' you know?"
His eyes widen because, despite the absurdity of the content, he had never considered the true manipulation that went into this part of sexual stimulation. Although he is intrigued, every once in a while, he spared a glance to see if any of the half-dazed and sleepy passengers are paying any mind to the woman before him.
"And that makes my life easier, because I'll let you in on a little secret…" she leans in close to his ear as if she's about to impart classified information, he shivers as he feels her breath hit his skin, "women don't actually like blowjobs."
"If I'm starting off at a ten then I also have nowhere to go, like why would you spend any time fucking me if the blowjobs are enough?" the conviction in her voice only grows and she taps her head a few times like she's urging him to reflect on this.
She only pauses for a moment to finish off her drink before facing the enthralled Sam, "There are special occasions though, I'll give you a six after a fight and we're making up. Or if you spend a shitload of money on me or buy me something that's cool like a gift or whatever, then I'll go for a full eight. However, after that I gotta circle back to the three's, four's, and five's because that makes the guys dick alarm go off." Brushing back a strand of her dyed hair behind her ear she smirks and whips her head around to Sam to see if he's keeping up with her train of thought.
"You know what I mean right? That shit happens every time without fail. And then you're all confused and say," Gwen pouts and changes her voice into a whiny coo, "'Hey, baby. You're acting different, what's wrong, why are you so sad?'"
With a snap of her fingers, she refocuses the attention of Sam and finishes off her lecture with a final statement, "But what you actually mean is 'Oh my God, suck my dick harder!'"
"Interesting, so then…um, what would warrant like a ten? Give me an example," he uncomfortably shifted in his seat, nonetheless he was completely enchanted.
Huffing back into a relaxed sitting position, she contemplates this question before proceeding. "I don't fucking know, uh let's say that hypothetically you're…" she trails off before eyeing the man next to her, "Let's say that you're like on an airplane and you're going to a wedding for this girl who was one of your best friends in high school."
"Two more, please," Sam turns to the flight attendant and hands their empty cups and motions towards the alcohol. The woman curtly nods and smiles before turning to the people adjacent from them to attend to their beverage wants.
"And your ex-boyfriend who, uh" Gwen lets out a dry laugh, one void of any positive emotion before sighing, "Your ex-boyfriend who ruined your fucking life is going to be there."
Sam looked at the stranger sadly, picking up on the tinge of emptiness and regret in her voice before sympathizing, "That asshole." He gingerly takes the drinks from the flight attendant and places one on each of their gray trays.
Gwen nods before looking back at Sam, "Yeah, all of that pent-up frustration and anger while you're sitting next to some guy that you're never going to see ever again. That would probably merit a ten."
Taking a nervous gulp, Sam hesitantly chuckles and points his thumbs to himself in a half-joking mannerism, "Ha-ha, well, u-um what about this guy right here?"
Gwen looked him dead in the eyes for a moment, the silence between them palpable until her face changed to one of a very serious nature, "Oh no, I have a feeling that I'll definitely be seeing you again." She winks before facing forward in her chair, downing the newly poured champagne, and shutting her eyes to finish the remainder of the flight in a deep slumber.
Thank you to all the follows, favorites, and reviews! Even just one gives me motivation to keep writing, I'll try to be more frequent with updates but thanks for everyone who's reading. I hope you all enjoy and I'm very excited to get into the important events of the story because I love setting this all up but buckle up! You're in for a ride. Have a good day guys, I'll see you soon.
