Page 9 of Glass Wings

Page List

Font Size:

She groaned before pushing herself up on her knees and realized that she was still wearing the same clothes from last night's outing.Hadley made her way to her bedroom door, opening it to a silent, empty apartment. Hector would already be training right now; he only had a few months until audition season.

She made an immediate left into the bathroom, wincing at the rough hair and smeared makeup in the mirror. Turning the shower faucet to the left, Hadley popped into the water for a quick clean-up to erase the evidence of her drug-infused night.

I guess I’m a regular sinner now.She eyed her reflection and shook her shoulders back and forth, trying to get her energy up. After blow-drying her hair and putting on some tinted moisturizer, mascara, and blush, Hadley returned to her room in her towel.

She sat down on the edge of her unmade bed, pulling out the dresser's bottom drawer across from her. There was a clump of brand-new lingerie with the tags still on, the lace and strings from different pieces all tangled together. It took a few minutes to separate it all. She chose a silver and purple bralette with a matching pair of panties and a garter belt.

Hadley threw the remaining lingerie into her purse before pulling out a bright red lipstick, smoothening it over her lips. She shook her head, already feeling like someone she wasn't, then threw on a pair of sweatpants and an old graphic t-shirt over the ensemble.

Hadley ran back to the bathroom to wipe off the awful lipstick and fumbled in every nook and cranny in her apartment for shoes she could wear over stockings. She found one white sneaker under her desk and the other in the back of her closet, stuffing her feet in them with the laces still tied.

Well, this is awful.

She sat on the floor with her back to the front door, her hands covering her face. She didn’t move for several minutes.

“Get up. Just go,” she yelled out loud to the empty apartment while staggering to her feet and brushing her yellow-blonde hair back with her fingers.

Hadley pulled out her phone, calling a taxi. It made her think about that week when she tried to be a food delivery person on herbike. It went well at first, but people would request refunds, saying the food was never delivered or the order was wrong.

And now here you are.

Hadley shimmied her shoulders to pump herself up for what she was about to commit to, and without letting herself overthink more, she walked out of her apartment. She pulled a fresh eviction notice from the door and crumpled it up before throwing it inside.

This won't be a problem soon.

The journey to Citrus Heights, a suburban neighborhood outside of the city, was longer than Hadley could truly afford. She stared at the ride’s toll climbing with every second, frowning. The driver stayed silent throughout the drive, only announcing their arrival at a small one-story home that looked unkempt.

The thirty-dollar drive each way would hurt her, especially with the overdraft fees. Buying a car seemed so distant, too far out of reach.

Hadley smiled at the driver and stepped outside the car, walking up the house through the sloped driveway. Dogs barked from neighboring houses behind chain-link fences, causing too much commotion for her nerves. Driven by panic, she wasted no time ducking to the side of the garage, looking for the door as directed.

I’m here.

Gravel lined the side of the house, and a large air conditioning unit piped into the wall stood a few feet from her. The fences throughout the neighborhood gave no privacy as she stared at overgrown, half-dying grass littered with empty planting pots in the neighbor's yard.

The white, tattered door opened abruptly as a man in his early forties with a goatee and greasy ponytail stood there with his arm up over the doorway. Hadley did her best not to stare too much at his bushy armpit hair.

“You my two o’clock? Come on in, darlin'. You can call me UncleGrant. I’ve got my best gal in here too; give you a proper greeting and all, show you that I run a reputable business.”

Grant wore a huge, friendly smile, and Hadley felt like she was looking at a Labrador puppy in a man’s body. Though still on edge, she relaxed her shoulders and walked through the door frame.

He seems nice. There's another girl inside. You might be okay.

“I’ve never done this before,” she said, kicking herself for letting that be the first thing she said. Hadley entered a two-car garage with a four-poster bed dressed with silk red sheets in the far corner. There was a small kitchenette and a large dingy brown sectional slapped down in the middle of the space. The floor was covered by six or seven carpets layered on each other to hide the cement underneath.

Hadley’s attention fell on the woman laid out on the sectional. She was dressed in a shiny plastic body suit that covered every inch of her, even wrapping around a few of her fingers on each side. Her boots laced up right underneath her butt and carried six-inch heels that could double as a weapon.

“What will you call yourself?” she asked point-blank, playing with her long black fingernails to show complete disinterest.

“Oh,” Hadley stammered, “Emily.”

“We can come up with something sexier than that. We need something modern, something thatscreams smoldering girl next door from your wildest fantasies. It’ll help build your brand.”

Hadley hadn’t thought about this yet, her mind flashing to the names of the heroines from the cartoons she watched growing up. She supposed she didn’t want to sully those memories.

“I can see you’re struggling; let me help,” Grant said, stroking his facial hair with his eyes lifting to the ceiling as he thought about it. “How about Natasha?”

Hadley grimaced. That didn’t feel like her at all.