Two

Chapter 2

 

She was running, and she had been running, l her life; everything was falling apart. Her apartment fee had been due for the last six months, and the landlord wasn't heeding her pleas. She could not live on the street, and this State wasn't like her father's country, where she could get accessible apartments anytime or anywhere.

 

She was given a scholarship at the State University for the last four years, and she was very excited, but if she'd known this was what she would be facing, she would have stayed with her father in her father's country. Well, this State was her mother's, which made her biracial.

 

Her life had been jumbled-mess since she arrived in this country; she was easily judged by her brown skin colour.

 

She didn't have a real job apart from freelancing for lazy youths. And that wasn't paying her much. They judged her skin colour and her father's nationality, not her brain then, they were men who always had their lustful gaze on her curve, which she hated, but she couldn't do anything.

 

She was tired, and she was running out of money. She could not call her father because her father was the same as her. A working-class being striving to feed. And her mother was a no-go-area because she did not know who her mother was or where she lived. Whenever she asked her father, he always ended up in tears, which always broke her heart.

 

She hated her mother because she wasn't been part of her life since she was young.

 

She wasn't there when she needed her the most.

 

She wasn't there to talk to her about her periods.

 

She wasn't there to talk to her about boys.

 

It was only her father she knew, her father covered both roles, but there was still a part of her that yearned for motherly love.

 

She hummed a tune her father used to sing to her whenever she was depressed or down as she walked around with a towel wrapped tightly around her body. She walked towards her Ghana must go* - (a woven luggage bag) to pick an old faded jean skirt and blue polo as her only friend - Belle, barged in, searching for Angelina until her brown eyes met Angelina's grey ones before she squealed happily at her and crushed her in a bear hug.

 

Isabella or Belle was a half-Japanese friend with short blond hair, and they met at the school functions on the first day of resumption in university. She was trying to find the hall when she collided with her friend's petite body, which made them fall to the ground. They both groaned before staring at one another and laughing out loud. They both exchanged numbers, and since then, they have become tight buddies.

 

"Babe, I've got you a job," Belle chirped, stealing one of her fries that she left on the nightstand beside her messy bed before slumping on the floor. She swatted Belle's hand away when she stretched her hand to steal another fries.

 

When Angelina's brain comprehended what her friend had said before stealing her fries, she screeched, "you got me a job?" she asked.

 

"Yeah, babe," Belle winked at her, "I told you," she smirked with a sly grin.

 

"What does the work pertain to?" she asked enthusiastically before feeling down and sighing.

 

"What happened to sugar? Aren't you happy? But—" Belle frantically asked, and she interrupted her.

 

"Nothing," she replied dismissively, "The uniform code?"

 

"Just put on pants and a shirt," Belle answered, crawling towards Angelina's bag, unzipping it as she started to rampage through it. She was taking out a dress, looking at it before throwing it away to take another one.

 

"I'm not putting on pants!" Angelina tutted, "my curves are going to be visible, and I don't want unwanted attention to myself," she added downcasted.

 

Belle pinched the bridge of her nose, she didn't know how many times she would lecture her friend to love herself with her curvy body, but no, her insecurities were too high.

 

"Babe—"She dragged slowly, "if I was the one who has this shape of you," Belle's eyes roamed on Angelina's hourglass body, shaking her head, "I swear I'll be fuvking walking in lingerie," she said sultrily. "Or if I was a guy," she stared at her seductively as she wetted her lips sensually while her brown eyes twinkled with mischief, "Imma fuck you to oblivion state," she added impishly.

 

"Now, let's change, babe," she squealed, picking the outfit Angelina wore on last year's Thanksgiving, checking it only to dump it down.

 

Most of Angelina's dresses were second-hand graded, and she didn't have the money to buy new dresses. Every last Monday of the month, she went to the mall to purchase a dress. Well, Belle always made her shop with her and bought her some lasting dresses which she rarely wore except for important occasions.

 

"I hope it's not a stripping job you got me because I'm not interested," Angelina voiced her opinion. After all, she knew her best friend. It could be a strip club that got her a job, and she had been bugging her to apply for one, but Angelina being Angelina, was not comfortable and confident about showing her body.

 

"Oh," Bell's mouth was agape, pouting her lips, "you are supposed to trust me on this," she scrunched her nose, "if it were a club I'm talking about, I would have just kidnap you to Victoria secret palace for that dirty, naughty and smutty lingerie," she wiggled her brows bashfully before facing what she was doing

 

"I think you should wear this," she heard Bella's voice, holding a cocktail gown before she threw it away.

 

"No," Belle murmured to herself before picking another dress, "I think this will do," she scrutinised her eyes on the A-shape skirt only to throw it away again. She stuck her tongue between her lips in a concentration way as she brought out all her dresses in the bag, scattering them on the floor before taking them back, turning them upside down, and then throwing them away.

 

"I can't seem to find it—" She trailed off before screaming excitedly, "I see it!" bouncing up and down.

 

She handed Angelina the black fitted knee-length gown, ushering her to change because they were getting late.

 

Angelina entered the kitchen and changed into the gown her friend selected, brewing a coffee to calm her nervousness. She applied oil to her wavy brown thick hair brushed it together, and put it in a ponytail. She used her lips gloss and called Uber to take her to where the wedding was located.

 

A day waitress.

 

Just to serve food for the guests. And a serving costs $5.

 

If I am to serve a hundred guests, that means I'm taking $500 home. She thought happily. She was already analysing how she was going to spend the money.

 

The Uber arrived at the destination, killing off the engine. As she got down from the car, a woman in her early forties who looked distressed came to her and dragged her to another direction where there were fewer people.

 

The woman stopped when they entered a room and locked the door at the back while she took a moment to catch her breath.

 

"Ma'am, I'm Angelina. I'm here—" The petite woman waved her hand, interrupting her as the woman scrutinised her gaze on her before her lips stretched widely.

 

"You are someone I need—No—We need," the woman smiled uneasily.

 

"Oh?"

 

The woman's hands trembled while looking disheartening. Angelina took her time to recheck the woman, and she noticed that the woman's brows wrinkled as if she was in deep thought and distress.

 

"Ma'am—" She tried to call the woman, but the woman grabbed both her hands urgently.

 

"I want your help, and I shall pay you handsomely," the distress could be heard in her soft voice.

 

"Ma?"

 

"The bride left my son today, and we need a replacement. So name your price?"

 

"What?" Angelina asked, feeling annoyed. What did the woman take her for? She thought.

 

"$5 million?" she asked while Angelina's jaw nearly dropped on the floor. Her body was immobilised because her brain couldn't comprehend what was happening.

 

"$10 million?"

 

"....."

 

"$20 million?"

 

"Ma'am!" Angelina practically screamed at her, "I don't know what you want me to do, but I don't want your money," she stated firmly while the woman sighed in relief.

 

The woman touched her chubby cheeks lovingly, "like I've known you aren't like her," the woman mumbled.

 

"Just marry my son for a year, and after that, you could divorce," the woman explained.

 

"Okay," Angelina responded.