fucked up love

"Elyse....Elyse" Monica kept whispering into my ear. My entire body throbbed with post vommiting pain. Every exhale left the taste of the top shelf tequila on my tongue. "Lets get out before they wake up " She said, turning away from me.
I could see the slightest glimmer of sunshine beamig through the corner of the nicotene stained curtain. It was noon at the latest. June in Manhattan buzzed below us. Cars honking, bus's revving up and foreigners chatting echoed from the street. I peeled myself away from the torn pleather couch and stared into the darkness. Six humans were laid out on the studio apartment floor. Half of them as naked as the day they were born. The odor of sex and vomit started to make my stomach turn. I wiped the day old mascara out of my eyes and saw monica rummaging around the darkness. Rifeling through wallets and pocketbooks while stuffing the dollar bills beneath her implants. I grabbed my louis bag I had hidden behind the couch. When you're a theif you learn that your belongings are never safe from anyone. Holding my Jimmy Choo heels in my other hand I barefootedly tip toed to the door to begin unlocking the chain and deadbolt, quiet as a church mouse.
"Jackpot" Monica cooed, holding up a small bag of cocaine between her stiletto acrylics. I pulled the Dior sungless on to my face and prepared for the light induced migrane that was sure to come.
Out in the hall, Monica devilishly pranced behind me. Ecstatic that we not only had party money for tonight, but drugs to boot.
"These are the best days of our lives girl!" She said while simeltainiously popping a neon green stick of wrigleys behind her veneers.
Monica was always what I though I wanted to be. Two years ahead of me in high school. We met one morning at the in school suspension room. My offense was skipping gym to read a Timothy Harris novel. Hers was for giving a boy in class a hickey in front of everyone. She was a dark rooted honey blonde with a year round tan. Jade colored eyes and a size 6 waist. To me she was the American Dream incarnate, save for the three inch scar through her left eyebrow. The result of having her father break a flourescent light bulb over her face in middle school. Her Hermes bag usually contained nothing more than a grubby makeup pouch and a half empty pack of newports. A gucci wallet that only held her EBT card and a senior picture of her little sister, Katelyn. "We can fake it till we make it!" She'd always cheer whenever I was tired, or hungry, or freezing, Until today, I never questioned her confidence in that remark.
My head was drumming as I pressed the button for the elevator. Monica was already arranging the coke into perfect lines on her Urban Decay eyeshadow pallet. I looked down at it longingly. As the elavator doors opened she sniffed her first line, passing it to me with a limp wrist. I took it almost mechanically. "Thought you could use some breakfast" She giggled girlishly.
I pulled an old mcdonalds straw from my purse and sucked down a big fat line of booger sugar. The elevator sunk to the ground and we walked out into the street.
The thick heat hit me like a sauna. Cocaine on an empty upset stomach was never a good idea, and it was kicking in rapidly. Slowly I felt my entire face succumb to numbness, like being under Novocaine.
"What are your feelings on sushi tonight?" Monica cheered. To be honest the thought of sliding raw fish down my throat at the moment was absolutely nightmarish, but I loved sushi any other time.
"Can we afford sushi tonight?" I asked, Monica started laughing hysterically. She laughed from deep down in her stomach and it came out like a witches cackle, she was also prone to snorting. On anyone else this laugh would have been hideous.
"We're not going to have to pay for shit! Jesus fuck, sometimes I think you dont know me at all Eily." she said passing me a lit newport. "You remember that guy I told you about? Andre'?" I looked at her quizzically. It was so hard to keep up with who she was using as a personal dildo and atm machine at the time. "You know, the French spoiled brat we met at Mandarin Oriental?"
How could I have forgotten, Andre'. Dressed from head to toe Tom Ford and bathed in 400$ cologne, which did not compensate for his lack of personal hygeine, He had highlighted hair and would not stop talking about how terrible American food was compared to French.
"Yea.. I vaugeley remember him. I had alot of apple martinis that night'
Twas' a lie. I had been spilling my drink under the table and pretending to sip all night because Andre' refused to let us accompany him to the bar to get our drinks. The fact that I was completely wasting his undeserved wealth gave me such joy.
"He called me yesterday and specifically asked me to bring you to Masa with me. I think its double date, but you know how Scorpio's are. He'd rather be mysterious than tell me what the fuck he actually has planned."
Masa was currently the most expensive restaurant in the city. Even as rich as Andre' was, I couldnt imagine him actually getting a table there. To me it all sounded like some debauchees set up. I lifted my sunglasses and rolled my eyes dramatically at her.
"Come on! I'm not going because I enjoy his company either. You'd think with all that money he would have learned the importance of body wash by now for fucks sake! But its Masa! Think of all the other guys we could meet there."
I sighed heavily. "I'll go Mony.." As soon as I said it I regretted it. She linked her elbow with mine as we ascended down into the subway.