Chapter 5: 'You really are an arrogant bitch.'

ROSE

Something warm and glowing fell on my eyes. I pushed open my lids and my small, cluttered desk greeted me. I was back in my own room. What happened? 

I rubbed my eyes and tried to recall the most recent events. I sent out my application to be Rum’s assistant… then I left B.A.D by my usual route… and then… and then something–someone– covered my nose and mouth, and there was a strange smell, and… voices! 

My eyes flew open in aghast, and I screamed a piercing scream. “AH!!!” 

The door flew open and my roommate, Joy Fairchild, a 24-year-old chemistry grad student of M.A.D. University, crashed through in her pink piggy-print pyjamas and boyish short hair, shouting frantically, “What is it? What’s wrong?” 

She knelt in front of my bed and I grabbed her arms. “They took me!” 

“Who’s 'they'?” 

“T-the team!” 

Joy jolted upright to hug me and started rubbing the back of my head soothingly. “Those half-ass carbon monoxides? No. They didn’t get you, Rose. Not this time.” 

But I couldn’t calm down. “B-but they put a cloth over my mouth! A-a-and I smell something!” 

“Trichloromethane.” Joy pulled back and looked at me with a fuming face. 

“What?” The huge word snapped me out of the anxiety. 

“Chloroform,” she sighed. 

My head started to throb. “Urgh…,” I groaned, holding my forehead. 

“The headache's a side effect from inhaling CHCL3. But you’ll be fine, girl. I checked your vitals and all. You’re good.” Joy plonked down beside me on the bed and scolded under her breath, “Those assholes… don’t they know that Trichloromethane is dangerous?” She swung an anguish look at me. “It could kill you! You got to report to the management, Rose!” 

“But I don’t have any proof that it was them…,” I muttered uneasily. 

“Humph!” Joy punched the air as though she was hitting those bullies in their faces. “If only those people who saved you had stayed. I’ll get their testimonials and go to the cops!” 

I spun around in surprise. “Some people saved me?” 

“Yeah!” Joy continued throwing punches. “A guy called me to come get you–-he sounded like he had a really bad cold–so I went. It was in the back alley.” 

 I went rigid. “B-back alley?” 

“Yeah. And when I got there, you were lying on the floor in this dark corner–.” 

My arms shot up to hug myself. “A d-dark c-c-corner?” 

Joy wrapped her arms around me. “Don’t worry. You’re safe now.” She rubbed my back the way my mother would when I got nightmares, and it always soothed me. “Take it as a bad dream, huh?” 

I nodded quietly. Then, I asked, “Did the guy who called you left a name?” 

Joy pulled away and patted my cheek. “No. He did say that he and his friends saw two people trying to take you and they helped.” 

“Only two people?” I blurted. 

Joy nodded with a puzzled wrinkle in her brows. “What’s wrong?” 

I stared at her, unable to say a word. Those stylists usually attack me in fours or fives–depending on who’s free at that moment–never in twos. Especially not when they had to carry me all the way to the shit pool a few alleys behind B.A.D and they are females, except for Giles. 

“Anyway, take this.” Joy opened her left palm and a white pill appeared. “It’ll take the headache away without drowsiness.” 

I flashed a weak, grateful smile and took the pill to my mouth, then the glass of water from her other hand to gush it down. 

“Thanks, Joy. You really are the best!” I gave her another hug before I got off bed to get dressed–-it was already six a.m. and work for me starts in an hour. 

Joy stood calmly and crossed her arms. “I still think that you should take the day off, Rose. I mean, the dosage may not be harmful. But you were exposed to a harmful chemical.” 

“If I miss a second of work—.” 

“Annie will get you fired. And no other agency will hire you,” Joy groaned wearily. 

“That’s right!” I sang cheerfully as I pulled the dark blue oversized jumper off the rack. I turned to the feisty but kind-hearted girl who’s been my friend for the past four years since I started renting this room from her. 

“I’ll be fine, Joy,” I chirped. “Look!” I dropped the jumper and did a jumping jack. “I can do a few more today!” After one, my head started to spin again. “Oh shit….” 

She caught me before I crashed to the ground and scolded, “Alright, alright! Just stop. You don’t have to do that anymore. I got your vitals, I know how unfit you are. And I also know you, Rose Cintilar, will never give up as long as your eyes are open and your limbs are still working.” 

*****

The second I punched my timecard, right on time at seven a.m., they grabbed me–the four of them: senior stylist Lilian and her three juniors, Camille, Megan, and Tessa.  

With her arm around my shoulder, Lilian whispered in my ear, “Come quietly with us, if you want less pain.” 

They took me to the ladies’ toilet on the highest floor of the building–the emptiest and the darkest. And once inside, I was thrown ruthlessly against the rear wall. 

“Oomph!” Pain from my back squeezed my eyes tight and crumpled my face. Ow! 

But no matter how great the pain, I have to keep my eyes open, to stay alive. 

Focusing on the bullies, I explained in a strained voice, “I’ve cleaned everything last night before I left. I swear!” 

They exchanged quizzical glances and then exploded in laughter. 

Wiping the corner of her eyes, Lilian stepped forward and grabbed my ponytail and tugged it harshly. “You really are an arrogant bitch,” she breathed. 

“I-I’m not!” I tried hard to push her hand off me. “P-please let me go!” 

“And you made us reeeally salty, Rosey my dirt. So we thought, we can't let you go without returning the favour, don't we girls?” She whirled my long ponytail around her hand once and yanked my head up. 

SLAP!! 

A sharp pain shot to my jaw as I crashed to the floor.

OW! I winced in pain as more snideful snickerings erupted around me, clawing my ear drums. My hand was holding my left cheek, its skin stinging with fierce heat.

Ow, ow, ow… this bitch hits like a psychopath…. 

“What did I do?” The words were out before I could stop them. 

She went for my ponytail again, and this time, she struck my other cheek. 

And I crashed against the door of the last stall. “OW!” A stronger pain seared my face. I blinked at the toilet. The blow was making me dizzy. 

“You took Annie’s job away from her! That’s what you did, you little whore.” She came at me again. 

I couldn't recover in time so I desperately kicked the floor to move away. “I didn’t! I swear!” 

She grabbed the front of my jumper to try and pull me up, but I frantically pushed at her to stay on the ground. Then, the arms of her allies came to her aid. They hauled me up and flung me at the row of sinks. 

I hit the edge of the counter and felt a punch in my stomach. “Oof!” 

OW!!! THIS FUCKING HURTS!

“You lying piece of shit! We know you applied for the job!” Lilian shouted as I crumbled to the ground, hugging my stomach in agony. 

Towering above me, she continued blasting, “Christy said you were there, in Studio 4, when she was prepping the model, and that you eavesdropped on their conversation when they were talking about Rum looking for an assistant!” 

I froze. Shit. They didn’t get me last night. So they’re back! And they’re gonna kick me! I need to get into that stall and get away from them!

I stretched out a hand to grab something to haul myself forward into the stall. 

“We won’t let you get away with this!” Lilian stepped back and barked, “Girls! Give the dirt a good kick!” 

No! I screamed in my head. “P-please! Don't hurt me! I’ll do anything! Just tell me!” 

The trio halted in front of me. 

Lilian pushed the middle two apart to step through and glared at me. With a dry chuckle, she said, “So you’ll tell Rum that you can’t be his assistant?” 

I froze again. What? I looked up at them, wincing and taking shuddering breaths to ease the ache. “Y-you mean… I got the j-job? R-Rum chose me?” My insides did a triple flip. I got the job… I got it! 

Lilian saw my face and her eyes widened in fury. She bowed lower and muttered coldly, “Who the fuck do you think you are? Look at you–you're ugly, you have no sense of style and you smell bad. All. The. Time. Plus, you're a thief and a narcissist. You've been stealing ideas from Annie–.” 

“I didn’t steal hers… she took mine!” I cried out in anguish.  

Lilian scoffed. “Oh my God… Look at you... Still thinking that you're right. You're one fucking delusional narcissist.” 

“I’m not…,” I retorted. Annie is. “Annie… took my ideas–AH!” 

PHWOP!

They kicked me in the stomach, and I bent my body on the floor like a foetus, trembling in hurt. 

“Listen carefully, you piece of shit. Rum didn’t choose you. You just got lucky,” spat the senior stylist. “So tell Rum that you made a mistake and withdraw your application, do you hear me!” 

“No…,” I whimpered.  

They were about to leave when they heard me. They spun around and Lilian stalked towards me, in heavy, taunting steps. “What did you say?” 

“No…,” I repeated in a stronger voice. Mustering all my strength, I glared up at her and said, “I’m going to be Rum’s assistant.” 

Lilian was shocked. But she recovered in the next second and slammed the pointed tip of her leather boots in my abdomen. 

“Give it to her, ladies.”