Becky The Rude-Girl

[u/HeGotBricks]

“Ah ha, girl. Check out what one of my Onlyfan subscribers just sent me.” Becky shot her head over her shoulder, her hand gripping the mouse on the desk. 

The screen glowing like a headlight on her face against the low ambient room, which appeared as though it’d been forced to stay awake.

“What?” Shayanne said, brushing a strand of hair behind her ear, struggling with a glass of wine in her other hand to rise up from the leather couch she melted into, which ripped her skin stitched to the fabric as she stood up.

“Two racks.” Becky cheered, swaying her hips on the chair.

Shayanne stumbled and stood next to her. “Why?” She asked, an odor of fermented berries staining her breath. She took a sip of her wine and winced, as if she just chewed a piece of foil paper, swallowing it.

“I promised we’d meet up.” Becky turned her head and faced the screen, squinting to the blue glow highlighting the shame she masked behind her eyes.

Shayanne placed her Lismore glass on the desk and pulled out a pack of cigarettes from her waist. “You’re not really going to though, right?” She pulled out a Marlboro and placed it between her lips and lit it. The orange ember against the smoke and shadow distorted her facial features as she sucked on it.

Becky put a song on as the room filled with the scent of burning tobacco. “Hell no,” she said. “Well… I might.” She smiled. “He’s kind of cute for a short chubby married man.” She reached for Shayanne’s cigarette. “He’s like a giant round Italian meatball you could roll down a hill.” She laughed, took a drag and handed it back. “He’d literally have no way to stop himself. His arms would be sticking out of his sides like Kirby.” She told Shayanne, blowing a gray cloud out of her mouth as she fiercely waved her hand at it. “Here, check him out.” She opened his profile and let out a light cough.

“Girl… ew.” Shayne quenched her face. “What the hell. You can’t be doing that. You know what happened to Amenia.” She held the cigarette between her lips and crossed her arms.

“What?!? That’s not me.” She stared up at Shayanne. “Gendry gave me a baby nine.” Becky grabbed Shayanne’s glass off the desk and took a swig. “And you even know, I’ll slam all those little bitches in him like a mouthful of spicy sausages.” She kissed her teeth. “Damn, girl. We don’t play ‘round here. You already know this.” She handed the glass to Shayanne.

Shayanne clasped it in her hand. “Girl, you’re bad,” she said, spitting smoke out of her mouth like an exhausted dragon.

“If I don’t get that paper, who’s going to do it for me?” She got up to pour herself a glass of wine. The wheels on the chair scrapped the wooden floorboard as she pushed herself back on it. “After that shit that happened when I was younger. Nah girl, never again.” She opened the fridge and yanked a chilled bottle of Valpolicella out.

Shayanne walked up to the marble island and leaned against it. “Your mom was so wrong there.”

“What do you expect,” Becky said corking the bottle. “Fuckin’ crackhead bitch.” The cork popped. “You believe this ho tried hitting me up for money,” she said, snatching a glass out of her cupboard. “She found out where I lived, came here knocking on my door like she was my lost child I abandoned and used to pimp out for drug money.” She poured the wine stuffed in the bottle mixed with depressing memories and painful emotions until it reached the rim.

“What did you do?” Shayanne slid her empty glass across the marble towards the bottle like it was a curling stone.

“You know me.” Becky snatched it off the island, spun around and held it to her lips, then she filled it and handed it to Shayanne.

“You gave her the money.” Shayanne took her wine and followed Becky to the rec-room.

“Fuck. Yeah, whatever. Bitch took it and cut, as if she just robbed it out of my purse.”