Isha
I grabbed the bottle as I waited for a text back and took a swig. I saw that it was read, but there was no reply. Maybe I’m not as pretty as I thought I was. I snorted as I looked in the mirror above at my vanity.
“Nope, you are a mess, girl. I slapped the bottle down, cracking the glass top of my vanity. “Oops.” I sloppily grabbed some make-up wipes and took off all of my make-up. My little trash can next to the vanity was becoming full.
I checked my phone again and nothing. I gave them thirty minutes, and half of that was gone.
“F*ck it, guess they had something better to do, or someone better. Story of my life,” I made a little hiccup. I could feel myself getting sad, but I didn’t want to be sad. I made my way downstairs. I should probably eat something to soak up
