CHAPTER THREE

The first time Kiara had seen the man flip had been awful, and it was at Miss Blondie Locks at the counter. Maybe she had not the slightest idea of why she would act like a spoiled child in front of a flirty customer; but ignorance, they said, was bliss. 

She blinked repeatedly, first to hold back worse tears from pouring and second, to avoid the bald man's menacing eyes. She stepped out of the counter and into the female staff bathroom.

She was disgusted with herself. Sure she'd been insulted many times before, but today the humiliation felt worse than a thousand needles helplessly piercing her skin. She gripped the sink, feeling the bile rise higher in her throat. Her clothes were stained and sticky, and so were her undergarments. She soon took off her baseball hat before turning on the tap, splashing some of the running water on her face. The eye bags had eased a little, still heavily pigmented nonetheless. 

She took off her apron first, then the tennis shirt and placed it under the tap. That bra was going to have to stay on till the day ran out. Carefully rinsing out what could be off the piece of mildly thick fabric, she squeezed out the excess liquid and carefully put back on the tennis shirt. After a few hiccups, she grabbed her baseball hat and apron again, strolling out of the bathroom. That thing would have to dry against her skin. 

Sitting at the counter was the ridiculous blonde girl whom Kiara would have sworn to be mute if she hadn't seen her interactions with customers. The girl watched her approach with the same curious, almost taunting eyes; the same plastic expression she'd gotten too accustomed to. 

"Mr Anderson wants to see you." She sneered out in an overly pitchy and annoying voice, as soon as Kiara was folding the dirty, coffee stained apron into her backpack. Kiara let out a half snarl in her direction, making the blonde girl's expression flatten for a split second. 

"Yeah I got the memo, I was just going." She bit back flatly, turning back on her heels in the direction of the large man's office. Hissing out a troubled sigh, she stopped in front of the door and knocked on the door twice before twisting the door knob. 

"Come in," The man spoke calmly, in a yet gritty voice. The small office was just enough to accommodate three people at once, four if they decided to cramp themselves inside like sardines in a tin. He sat behind his small desk, with barely enough work space to use. Kiara walked in carefully, standing in front of his desk with her baseball hat casting shadows to hide her slightly puffy face. She looked lost with her hands behind her back, patiently waiting for the annoyed man to speak. 

"What happened there?" He now questioned, looking up at the petite girl in the room. She stared back at him, although avoiding steady eye contact as she fiddled with her coarse fingers. 

"He just walked up to me and spilled coffee on my clothes."

"And why did that happen?"

"Something about his sugar quantity."

"That's all?"

"He was being rude and -"

"You talked back. At a customer. Do you know the damage you've caused me? Sales are going to plummet by a lot!" The man finally snapped, tapping at the table with his fist. 

"He called me a bastard. That's hurtful." She answered lowly. 

"This. Is. A. Work. Area. Nobody gives a damn about your feelings. If you're going to be so pissy, you can't work here. I only hired you because of your pathetic situation -"

"Sir, that has nothing to do with this. If you are so worried about my situation, then pay me what I've earned. You don't do that much either but I gotta endure coffee being spilled on my clothes. I didn't do anything wrong." Kiara gritted, dark flames burning holes in the man's face. Whatever gave her that shot of guts had better see her through this escapade. 

"You're still talking back at me, disrespectful piece of shit!" He hauled, clearly offended that the girl wouldn't do the things he expected. Get down on her knees and beg. Beg for her job like she'd always done. Or beg for her pay like she'd always do. 

"I haven't done anything wrong!"

"My customers saw your outburst, and I can't have someone who snaps at customers at the counter."

Kiara stared at the man in semi disbelief. 

"I'm sorry." She murmured out, now staring down at her feet where dried coffee streaks formed an outline resembling a flamingo. She'd done this before. In fact, a lot of times in the early days of her job she'd been abused for making mistakes and had to beg the large, bald man many times over for her job. Seeing her frantically begging for her job, she thought, gave him some sort of satisfaction. 

"Sorry ain't cutting it this time if you wanna keep your job."

"What?"

"I'm not paying you a cent for the last 64 hours."

"What!? You can't do that!" She yelled out, shock washing through her shaking form. He had to be delusional. 

"Take it as a price to pay for defamation. If not I will sue, and you'll lose your entire life's savings to me. That's your punishment for letting your emotions ruin my business." He shot back, watching her expressions closely with challenging eyes. 

Cold sweat broke out in her spine, travelling up her small body in small, selected jolts. This was a very rough deal to take on. On one hand losing her job would jeopardise her entire life. On the other hand, she was losing a whopping four hundred dollars. That was a lot of money. 

Taking a second to think about it, she let out a timid nod and left the office quietly. Hot liquid threatened to spill, with the rim of her eyelids barely blinking it back while she made her way to the counter. Quite suddenly she could feel the pockets of her old blue denim vibrate. Feeling around for a moment for her phone, she slid it out and turned it on, only to find a text message and a voice mail. 

The first message was from the scary landlord of the building she lived in. 

Your rent is a month overdue already. You only have a week to pay up or leave. 

The voicemail said the same thing. In a more aggressive tone. 

She sighed in ever so familiar frustration, a small drop finally escaping her eyes and onto the phone screen. Rapidly Followed by another drop. And another. Until burning liquid spewed out like water from a burst pipe from the hollowness of her eyes. Self consciousness was no longer a thing of existence as she sat there crying, not paying attention to the people who must have seen her bawl. Besides the baseball hat worked the magic of shielding her face while she had her moment. 

She couldn't quite understand why she cried the way she did. She'd been overwhelmed several times in her short life, some worse than the others; but today, the earth could do her some favour and gobble her down. The great beyond perhaps was peaceful. 

-

"I've never felt so horrible in my entire life." Kiara sniffed as she talked and walked, the chill summer evening breeze settling in on her skin like acupuncture needles. Kal walked by her side, holding her backpack in place as she made small rants while they strolled into the neighbourhood. The alleyway was narrow and long, bound by the listing brick walls of several homes. A few pebbles were scattered on the tarred ground, with a litter of broken or half dead bicycles by the corners of the houses. Kiara lived by the end of the now empty streets, while Kal lived just two blocks across. 

"Are you sure about that, Spicy?" He teased with soft humour, earning a small glare from the girl who stood an entire foot shorter.

"I was drenched in coffee, you dickhead." She answered, pointing at the new copper brown graphic T-shirt she wore. 

"Where?"

"In my bra. Wanna see?"

"Ew no!" The boy yelled back in horror, flinching away from her. 

Kiara chuckled. This was freeing to see Kal randomly walking home at midnight and talking like usual. Like before. 

"You know, sometimes I wish things could get better for me. For us, you know. So we could just stop doing cargo and coffee every single day." She sighed out, the quietness of it barely audible in the night silence. 

"You forgot pizza." He added, causing them both to enter a short-lived fit of laughter.

"Pizza delivery is bullshit. Hey Kal, if you got a million dollars today, what're you gonna do with it?"

"I dunno yet, maybe get out of the slum? I'll live fancy and drag you with me though." He laughed as he spoke, now slinging the backpack over one jacket covered shoulder. Kiara laughed back. 

"I'll pray to whatever God there is, I need a million dollars." She said quietly again, staring up at the starless skies. It definitely was going to rain tomorrow. 

"But, you know that's possible right?"

"Huh?"

"Remember what we talked about the last time."

"Will you give it up?" She grimaced, physically facepalming at his 'nonsense'. He shook back his head with a shrug in response. 

"This is huge and it's gonna turn our lives around for good. I don't wanna give up without trying at least." 

"But I really can't do this. It's so unsettling to think -"

"You just complained about having to be called names at your coffee shop. You talked about your rent. Are those gonna pay for themselves?"

"But I -"

"Kiara trust me I know you don't want to live like this. This life is fucked big time and we've had just about enough. Let's be free for good."

Kiara was tongue tied. She thought for a moment about the man who'd assaulted her today, and her boss who'd exploited her simply put, in the name of defamation. It hurt like hell to feel so helpless even as hard as she tried. It could never ever be just enough. But she could pay off her mother's debt once and for all, move into a new house and not have to worry about money all the time. The offer was so tempting, yet it felt so wrong. 

"Kal, I don't know… It's so tempting, but I still don't think it's a good idea. What if we get caught?" She questioned with concern layered voice, thick in depth. 

Kal seemed to think for a moment himself. 

"I think it'll work out just fine, just think about the success."

"Okay. But this had better be good."

"So you're in?"

She let out a snarl, glaring hard at his side profile. The lean boy flinched at her expression, backing up two steps while a new playful grin danced on his lips. Even his small ears were smiling. 

"I'll take that as a yes. It's a big house just uptown, pretty guarded but not impenetrable." He laughed, watching her soften as she hit him on his arm. He rubbed at the now sore spot in soothing circles while he winced from the pain. 

"I still really don't want to do this." She half whispered to herself, the unsettling feeling growing and taking its home in the pit of her empty stomach. The thought scared her  and made her uneasy, while feeding off Kal's reassurance that somehow sounded too good to be true. "It feels so, so wrong to take someone else's hard earned money."

"Stop being all whiny about it. Since when did the rich care about people like us? They feed off our suffering." Kal's now annoyed voice spoke, distressed. 

She turned back on her heels, bearing an unreadable face. Something between a death glare and surprise. For a long moment her face rested in that state, until she finally pulled away from him. 

"Just go away. Even if I'm doing this, don't feed me that nonsense."