Smile, Bitch. Stand Up and Smile.
Chapter no.4
Sheila’s POV
Purse? Here. Cell-phone? Here. Keys? Here. Un-rested and happy, I took the elevator and finally walked all the way to Star Bucks Coffee down the road. You see, I have this friend: Emily. And she met this guy: Alex, who says he’d been in High School with her. (She didn’t really ‘graduate’ High School, but that was okay enough for her to believe him.) I’m really happy for her, but nervous also.
You see, she’s kind of a … slut if you excuse my horrible, wobbly-wobbly language. From High School she started drinking, sleeping with random guys. (You don’t know this from me, but she actually got raped once, and her mother and pop disowned her from then on. She lived at mine’s for like 2 years or so.)
And taking drugs. I was really worried for her – now and then. So, she called me yesterday and told me all about this guys she was going to meet this Monday after-noon on Oxford (We’re from London). Apparently, the vocal disappeared and they found this Alex guy who saved her from the dangerous 4 persons – My Chemical Romance, as they call themselves. I searched them up on Google.com and saw some pictures. It’s pretty freaky if you ask me. We remained friends from then, but the relation got colder later on. I wonder how she found my name.
‘Wong-Wing.’ Oops, excuse me. That was my I-Phone. (Yes, I do afford one. My pop’s got heaps of money and so does my mum). I got it from Momma yesterday and I’m really excited about it.
“Sheila here!” I answered, enthusiastic, while walking down the street, getting closer to Star Bucks.
”Hey, Shay. It’s Emily. Do you think we can large up the table a bit?” a really familiar voice asked. But why does she want a larger table? Is Alex coming up the Hall of Fame?
“Why?” I asked, seriously not concerned. (You see, it’s my ‘Nail-Time-While-Being-Bored-On-The-New-I-Phone’ thingy)
“Alex is coming up, and I wouldn’t really turn up. Do you mind?” She excused herself. I really wanted to fuck Emily right that point.
“Of course I mind. I planned all this to give you some serious friendly advice, girly chat, fashion thingies, coffee in two gals-pals, but it seems that Mr. Alex who calls you his fucking Fake Emerald showed up! Well no thanks honey. I can do fine on my own.”
“B-but I’ll ch…” And that’s where I shut the I-Phone.
I didn’t care. You don’t really call your old-best friend to chat about the old times and then fuck her up because you want to meet your prince charming when you can meet him any fucking time of the year you want! No thanks, baby. I think I’ll get another old-best friend. Just about Frank Iero. I wonder what he is doing lately…
Purse? Here. Cell-phone? Here. Keys? Here. Un-rested and happy, I took the elevator and finally walked all the way to Star Bucks Coffee down the road. You see, I have this friend: Emily. And she met this guy: Alex, who says he’d been in High School with her. (She didn’t really ‘graduate’ High School, but that was okay enough for her to believe him.) I’m really happy for her, but nervous also.
You see, she’s kind of a … slut if you excuse my horrible, wobbly-wobbly language. From High School she started drinking, sleeping with random guys. (You don’t know this from me, but she actually got raped once, and her mother and pop disowned her from then on. She lived at mine’s for like 2 years or so.)
And taking drugs. I was really worried for her – now and then. So, she called me yesterday and told me all about this guys she was going to meet this Monday after-noon on Oxford (We’re from London). Apparently, the vocal disappeared and they found this Alex guy who saved her from the dangerous 4 persons – My Chemical Romance, as they call themselves. I searched them up on Google.com and saw some pictures. It’s pretty freaky if you ask me. We remained friends from then, but the relation got colder later on. I wonder how she found my name.
‘Wong-Wing.’ Oops, excuse me. That was my I-Phone. (Yes, I do afford one. My pop’s got heaps of money and so does my mum). I got it from Momma yesterday and I’m really excited about it.
“Sheila here!” I answered, enthusiastic, while walking down the street, getting closer to Star Bucks.
”Hey, Shay. It’s Emily. Do you think we can large up the table a bit?” a really familiar voice asked. But why does she want a larger table? Is Alex coming up the Hall of Fame?
“Why?” I asked, seriously not concerned. (You see, it’s my ‘Nail-Time-While-Being-Bored-On-The-New-I-Phone’ thingy)
“Alex is coming up, and I wouldn’t really turn up. Do you mind?” She excused herself. I really wanted to fuck Emily right that point.
“Of course I mind. I planned all this to give you some serious friendly advice, girly chat, fashion thingies, coffee in two gals-pals, but it seems that Mr. Alex who calls you his fucking Fake Emerald showed up! Well no thanks honey. I can do fine on my own.”
“B-but I’ll ch…” And that’s where I shut the I-Phone.
I didn’t care. You don’t really call your old-best friend to chat about the old times and then fuck her up because you want to meet your prince charming when you can meet him any fucking time of the year you want! No thanks, baby. I think I’ll get another old-best friend. Just about Frank Iero. I wonder what he is doing lately…