"Is it laundry day?" My sister, Dian teases me in Indonesian as she munches on her snack while watching me button the tweed jacket I've just put on.
"No, no, no. Wrong question. Is it pay day?"Oh I know what she meant by that.Being sisters means we share our clothes despite the difference in our size; she's two sizes smaller so she can wear mine but I can never fit into hers. That also means she knows every article of clothing I own, and this two-piece skirt suit is too obvious for being a brand new expensive-looking item I just owned."Whose is it?""Not mine.""Yeaaaaa I know it's not yours, obviously," she rolls her eyes at the last word, "But who's the designer? How much is it?"To be honest, I have no idea how much does this skirt suit cost. All I know is Drey specifically asked me to wear this on my first meeting with Mr Gunn.Uhh, I mean Honey."Uhm let me check," I walk to my bed and grab the skirt I laid there, wanting to inspect the tag at the back to which she gasps, "You don't knowww? You don't even know who's the designer? Oh my God, where is my sister? This is not Alya! You're not Alya! Hey, give me back my sister!"I laugh at her dramatic outburst as I hear Mama's voice next, "Alya? Is that you?"I turn around to look at my phone screen that shows my mother who's walking towards me. Oh how I miss this woman! Eventhough this would be our third time talking this week.Her eyes widen upon seeing me slip into the circle cut skirt that reaches way above my knee instead of stopping at my feet, "Why are you dressing up at home?"She sure knows me too well that I normally wear shorts and tank top instead of being all dressy. Being a hijabis, there is no way I'm going out in this either.Guess it's time for the revelation? Because I'm always honest with them. They're not only my family but my best friends as well. We're THAT close."I'm going out in half an hour." I tell her as I fix the pantyhose underneath the skirt."Whaaaaaaaat?" They are totally shocked with their jaw dropped right on the floor.I'd be surprised too if my hijabis sister/daughter who's been dressing modestly since the past ten years suddenly tells me she's going out in a Chanel tweed skirt suit."Dian, is that my daughter?" She asks my younger sister in a serious tone."I already asked her where the real Alya is."Both of them stop conversing to each other and look at me again, "Is there something you're not telling us?"Their puzzled look is adorable but I only have a few minutes left so I need to make this quick instead of dilly-dallying further."I swear this is not culture shock or peer pressure," because last week they suspected those were the reasons why my hair color went from black to blonde without me even hinting that I wanna do something to my hair, for the fact I always share my thoughts with them, "I still wear hijab at work but erm, I've decided to dive deeper, to figure out if that's really what I want or I did it because of him."They nod in sync, totally getting who ‘him’ is. The douchebag boyfriend."I'm trying to fix this doubt I've been having. It doesn't feel right to keep on guessing if I'm doing this for God or anyone else. So I guess, since nobody knows me here, maybe I should try for like a few weeks, to figure things out."***This is so not me; donning a non-modest designer outfit, putting on a pair of four inches Jimmy Choo's, holding a Birkin, face scribbled with make up and this bright red lipstick, with my blonde hair tucked nicely in a low bun for the whole world to see.This, is Scarlett Monroe.It's a quarter to seven and my side job that gives me way more money than what I earn monthly is about to start.I walk straight to the entrance of this fancy building which the doorman nods to me knowingly as if he's seen me before that he allows me to walk straight to the main lobby."Mrs Gunn," a man dressed in a similar uniform as the doorman greets me with a smile when I seem to be lost in finding my way for the elevator that will bring me to my sugar daddy's penthouse, "Good evening."Okay. I can see that I'm not the only one who is highly trained to be in Mr Gunn little fantasy."Good evening," I smile back at him, "Eric." And say his name once I see his name tag."Is there anything I can help you with?""Oh yes," Thank God I remember to act like a Scarlett Monroe instead of the chaotic Alya, "May I know where is the elevator?""Yes, I can bring you to the elevator, Mrs Gunn."Drey would kill me if he knew I forgot the layout of this lobby that lead to Mr Gunn's private elevator because he kept reminding me that's the first thing I've gotta memorise since it sets the scene of this entire charade.Uhh, let us pray that he'll never find out about this little mishap.Eric helps me getting to the private elevator and from there on, I go up to level 75 on my own.Drey also made me learn by heart the floor plan of this penthouse for me to know what is where but I still can't help myself from being fascinated once the elevator door opens that I was greeted with an infinity swimming pool. He really is ‘rich’ rich to have one built in here."You're early." The voice startles me as I turn around to find its owner.Damn it, Drey must be disappointed with me right now. First with the elevator, now showing the first sign of how un-Scarlett I am.Because Scarlett doesn't startle. She's a very composed, calculative woman. She hides her feelings very well.Perhaps that's the reason Honey can’t move on since she didn't reject him properly? Or harsh enough."Y-yeah." That all I managed to say upon seeing my pretend husband.He is a VERY tall man. And huge too. Not like fat-huge but huge-huge. Captain America huge. Superman huge. Wolverine huge. Okay I think you get what I mean. But his smiley face radiates friendliness despite his figure being the total opposite."I'm gonna grab my phone then we can go?" He walks towards me, still maintaining the smile on his face that seems to grow wider as he comes nearer.My palms start to sweat as my heart beats faster, oh shit. I'm nervous. I'm sorry Drey, I really am trying to calm down but he's fucking gorgeous. And he smells good too.Just like that his lips touch the left side of my head, but removes it instantly as fast as he attacked me with that impromptu kiss."Gonna get that phone now," he says softly with his lips less than an inch away from the spot he attached it to.I remain immobile, still dumbfounded when he strides to the stairs in his pressed black suit as his smell still lingers in the air I'm breathing.Uhh what just happened..? Did he just kissed my hair? I mean, uhh, head? What?"Go to the penthouse, meet him there. Have dinner with him. Off you go to your own bedroom to end the night."Step one is completed, now onto step two. Honestly, I'm prepared to give him two kisses a day, as per Drey's briefing. One would be in the morning, when I send him to the door before he go to work. The second would be at night, right before we depart to each other's bedroom. And those kisses were supposed to be lip-locked but being a hard headed, I made it a non-negotiable condition on top of the two he agreed earlier before I signed the contract, that I will only kiss his cheek, unlike the previous Scarletts who would have no problem to kiss him on the lips. I'm a Muslim, remember? But that, was unexpected. I thought I have at least an hour or two to decide if I'm pulling myself out of this charade but one minute in, he already marked his lips on my body. My hair, to be exact. "Bee," the way he calls me as he goes down the stairs gives me this certain vibe, as if I'm r
"Tell him I-love-you as much as you want, that's part of your job description. And don't worry, he won't fall for you." "He never fall in love with any of the Scarletts?" "Nope. Every time we have a new Scarlett he has no problem to switch them up." "You mean he currently has a Scarlett? Like right-now?""Her contract will be terminated just before yours is activated, as in your first day with him." "What? I thought you said he's nice?" "He is. But this is a business transaction. If we have a new product, of course he wants the latest version.""So we're like iPhones? To be changed every time a new one is available? He's a jerk alright." I still remember that conversation I had with Drey, and the remark I made of calling him a jerk. But when he said ‘I love you’ just now, he doesn't seem like he's lying. Like he's not the jerk I thought he was. "I love you too, Honey." I reply sweetly, silently knocking my head to remind me that I'm on the clock. He said I-love-you to Scarlet
This is harder than I imagined. To maintain Scarlett's image, I get out of his penthouse in another designer skirt suit and a pair of Louboutin with matching Hermes Kelly. My hair as instructed by Drey, is kept in a low bun."Scarlett will always wear a suit to work, be it a pantsuit or a skirt suit. Bag, always Hermes either a Birkin or a Kelly. Shoes, make sure they're at least four inches high. Hair, in a bun. A professional bun, very much different than a formal dinner bun. And lastly, red lipstick." I am struggling over here to remove this pencil skirt that will be replaced with a pair of slacks. My slacks. Because it'd be weird to wear a headscarf with a skirt that stops a little over the knee. God, it's so hard to have double personalities. Once I'm done with my pants, I put on my hijab to cover my blonde hair. Then I swipe the red color off my lips and use my usual nude lipstick. Lastly, I replace the Louboutin with my Salvatore Ferragamo flats, the one I always opt for wo
I've always had this dilemma whenever I travel, ESPECIALLY when I travel with my family. We are foodie people, we travel mostly because of food, and travelling overseas means we don't really get halal food all the time. It's easy for my family because they don't mind eating anything as long as it's not pork. But for me, who's a bit particular about food, since I've gotta maintain my hijabis image and all, I'd always opt for vegan or kosher meals. Until it reaches the seventh or eighth day of our vacation that I'd get sick of eating the same old limited-option vegan and kosher meals while watching my family gobble anything in the world except pork. That's how my faith fades a bit and I start to taste just a bite of what they're having that suddenly, out of nowhere, I'm already ordering a full meal for myself. And now, after three months of living in New York with those limited food option, I am now being served a plate of meat that looked fucking delicious with such beautiful deco
My wardrobe is stocked with different types of clothes, already being categorised accordingly by Drey to ease me in choosing one without getting confused. Casual wear-home, casual wear-dates, casual wear-family, casual wear-friends, oh God how many categories are there for casual wear alone? Then there are nightgowns, workwear, brunch dresses, lunch dresses, tea dresses, dinner dresses, Goddd there are so many categories I'm beginning to wonder how committed Drey is with his job for being thisss particular, on top of the extensive training he put me on for two months straight. Today is my first weekend with Honey, and if my memory serves, we're going to have a picnic later. I'm not sure when will it be but for now, I need to worry on what to wear between his coffee at 7 and brunch at 11- assuming we're really having a picnic brunch later- so what should I wear when I'm home with him? Yeah yeah, I have this entire section dedicated for ‘casual wear-home’ but which one should I choo
I've gotta say I'm proud of myself. I wasn't always overweight. I've been in the normal BMI range the entire school years until I broke up with my boyfriend after graduation. From there on, I went into this steep line of climbing towards overweight in just three months that from a normal size 6, I went to size 12, sometimes 10 if I wear clothes fit to my body but mostly 12, because I like baggy clothes to hide my figure. So yeah, it's all because of that motherfucker. He didn't just broke my heart, he inspired me to eat crappy food -as crappy as him- that I swell everywhere with fat, making me gain kilos that I hadn't been able to lose until ten years later. That ten-years-later was two months ago when Drey put me on this strict diet with workout-regime-from-hell that I managed to lose weight to size 8, though Drey insists I look better in size 6. From what I saw in the wardrobe, Drey clearly ignores my preference as most of the clothes are in size 6. So here I am, sitting on the
First weekend was a success. Though all we did was build that ridiculously huge Lego set and eat take-out. We stayed up until 5am and the next morning when I prepared him coffee at 7, he didn't even come down. He could've told me he'll be sleeping in, hmph. I took my revenge by cooking myself a big breakfast. Not those lame fruits but eggs in three ways; scrambled, omelette, and deviled. As if I hadn't rebelled enough, I drank a cup of coffee and went back to sleep until late afternoon. When I came down around 3, he was sitting at the same spot where we built the lego yesterday, dealing with some that we couldn't managed to finish. It's compelling, really, to watch him so immersed in building those. We ordered another take out for what seemed to be late-lunch-cum-early-dinner, and continued building that thing until around 10 when we finally go to bed feeling accomplished seeing that majestic Lego set sitting proudly next to the couch. The next five days was pretty boring as I go
I've officially cashed in three hundred thousand dollar for my six weeks employment. I don't know how I did it but I'm so glad I've done half of the total duration, with five more weeks to go. I'm obligated to fulfil the entire duration or I'll be subjected to penalty- instead of earning money, I'd have to pay him twice the amount.But I have this strong feeling in me that as time goes, I'm getting more uncomfortable to expose my skin. All I wanted to do was to cover them and swear I won't do this ever again, that I wanna go back to wearing modest clothes and hijab to cover my hair. What happened yesterday morning with the whole breakfast incident emphasized my desire to go back to being Alya. I guess I've gotten the answer of what I've been wondering about. Ten years ago, in the beginning, transitioning from shorts to abaya seems drastic to everyone so yeah, maybe I covered myself because of him; to please him. But as time goes, I've became accustomed to this style of clothing.