To Find Perfection in My Pride

Sighing, I took a look at the mess that surrounded me. Dust covered most surfaces, adding a gray tint to the room. The windows were coated in it, dimming the sunlight that would normally fill the room. Cobwebs were delicately woven into the corners and any open space that the room held. Scattered along the floor were pieces of paper, food wrappers, and other miscellaneous items that seemed out of place.

The faded puke toned walls were peeling, the paint no longer being able to hold itself to the wall. I saw a mouse scuttle through a few of the pieces of destroy furniture—calling it furniture was a stretch due to the state it was in—and I bit back the groan threatening to escape from my lips.

“I know it looks like it’s not gonna be anything,” Pierce said quickly, seeing my hesitation, “but it will. It just needs some fixing up. A lot of scrubbing, some new paint, and a little TLC.” Her espresso colored eyes darted throughout the room, no doubt picturing what the salon would look like once she was finished. Taking hesitant steps, I explored the other two rooms. These, according to Pierce, would be used for waxing and storage.

“There’s potential,” I said quietly, resuming my scanning of the room from beside her. “I can see it, P, I really can.” Wrapping an arm around her should, I pulled her close. The sparkle in her eyes was undeniable, and I was thrilled that this was happening for her. We had gone to the bank earlier, and they had approved the loan needed for her to open the salon she dreamed about. “So when are you signing the papers to make this yours?” I asked, smiling down at my friend.

“Bright and early tomorrow morning,” she dreamily replied, her eyes still taking in the possibilities this place held. Squeezing her tightly, I remained silent, unable to find the words to describe how happy I was for her.

***

“I need caffeine,” I spoke dramatically, flopping down onto the halfway cleaned tile floor that I had spent the last two hours scrubbing. Pierce chuckled, pulling out a crumpled twenty from the confines of her bag, and holding it out to me.

“It’s on me, then. Get me a vanilla latte while you’re there, though,” she said with a smile. I laughed, accepting the money and making my way out of the building. Humming some song I had heard on the radio earlier, I made my way into the coffee shop down the street to get our coffees. The line was short, and I had the two coffees in my hand shortly. Turning, I felt myself collide with another, smaller body, and I felt the slight burn as coffee soaked through my shirt.

The girl in front of me seemed angry, and I took note that some of the coffee had been sloshed on her white t-shirt, right on the chest area. “What the fuck, man? Do you not watch where you’re going?”

“I’m so, so sorry! I’m seriously such a klutz at times,” I said reaching behind me for some napkins on the counter. “Here,” I said, handing her some, and reaching out myself to try and dab some of the coffee off of her shirt.

“Hands to yourself, perv! It’s bad enough you ruined my shirt, but are you really gonna stand there are feel me up under the pretense of ‘helping?’” she snapped, and I held my hands up in defense.

“Look, I’m sorry about your shirt, but I had no intentions of feeling you up. Boobs aren’t my thing, and neither are vaginas,” I said bluntly. She raised an eyebrow, her blue eyes looking confused for a second before she processed what I said.

“Gay?” she asked, a smirk on her face, and I nodded. “Well, you still aren’t gonna help clean this, because it’s useless. You owe me a new shirt,” she said, still seeming rather annoyed that I spilt coffee on her.

“Fine. I don’t have the money on me today to buy it, but I’ll be down the street for awhile helping my friend. So, I’m going to get another coffee for her,” I said, holding up the cup that had held the coffee that splattered over both of us, “and I will show you where I’ll be most days for at least a few weeks. Happy?”

“No.”

With a sigh, I got another vanilla latte for Pierce before motioning to the blonde girl to follow me to the small building that my friend now owned. “Pierce, I’ve got your latte!” I called, stepping into the building, and was followed by the girl I didn’t know.

“I love you, Justin. If you were straight, I’d marry—hello. Why is there a girl with a coffee stained shirt behind you?” Pierce said, looking at me inquisitively as she took her coffee.

“Well, I may or may not have spilt your coffee on her. And she may or may not have gotten pissy and made a comment about me trying to feel her up,” and this is where Pierce snorted, eyeing the blonde with a small smile on her face, “which is why I made sure to mention that I do not like boobs and vaginas. She continued to be pissy, and now I have to buy her a new shirt. But since I don’t have the money on me, I told her I’d show her where I’d be for the next few weeks, doing manual labor for no pay.”

“Bitch, you’re earning your keep,” Pierce said, pushing my shoulder with her hand gently, mocking me like always.

“Who’s the bitch in this relationship?” I questioned, sticking my tongue out at her rather immaturely. She rolled her eyes, and turned her attention to the girl behind me.

“Where are my manners? I’m Pierce Santiago, and this is Justin Gold,” she said, brushing her bangs out of her eyes before reaching out her hand for the blonde girl to shake.

“Kimber,” the girl replied, grasping Pierce’s hand in her own. There was a silence, which the blonde—Kimber—soon broke. “Well, I’ve got to go. So I’ll be back soon for my new shirt soon.”

She left, and once she was out of hearing, Pierce turned to me and spoke. “She seems like a nice enough bitch.”