“Whatcha writin’?!”
*Mags screeches and drops phone to ground*
“JESUS, JeJe! Where did you come from??”
“I’ve been folding scarves next to you for like, 3 minutes now. You didn’t see me?! Or hear me?? I’ve been sweetly serenading you with Megan Thee Stallion. Wow…wait, why are you blushing? WHAT is on your phone? Let ME SEE!”
“It’s NOTHING! DON’T LOOK!”
*Mags snags up the phone and clutches it to her chest.*
“Holy Moses! What has gotten into you? Are you keeping a secret from me? Mags. Uh-huh. You know we don’t do that. Pony up. What are you hiding from your BFF? Your ride or die? The bottom bitch who has more than once stayed up late into the night, letting you practice makeup looks on them? The friend who–”
Sigh.
“Okay, okay. Geez, you’ve got your guilt-trip all polished up and ready to go. Remember the guy from the party? Luc? Well…he was at our grand opening.”
“WHAT?! How did we miss him??”
“That’s what I said! Apparently he bought that black pair of 70s Levi’s.”
“Ohhhh his butt has gotta look good in those.”
“Yep.”
*Both stare off into space, imagining dat ass.*
“So wait, what does this have to do with your phone. *GASP* are you texting him??”
“No no no! Okay so…he plays the guitar. And he played for me the other night…”
*GASP, grabs Mags by the arms*
“…and JeJe, he’s good. Like, Memphis Minnie good. He would be a perfect fit for the Fallen Angels. But…”
“...but…?”
“Ughhh. I hate this. *clears throat* but, um,…I am attracted to him. And I feel weird. He smells like blood orange. You–you know how much I love blood orange.”
*Jesus nods* “You really love blood orange. You have a blood orange obsession. It’s not my fav, honestly, it really takes over the composition of perfume notes and–”
*Mags shows Jesus the phone notes.*
“Oh girl. Ohhhh girl!
“Yeahhhh.”
“Someone’s got a crush—a blood orange crush.”
*Jesus cackles; Mags rolls theirs eyes.*
“So what’s the problem?”
To be continued…
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