Sociopath's Obsession(5)

Friday was the only day off I had. I didn’t want to go home so soon, so I spun around to face my friend.

“Where to now?”

Sophie brushed her hair from her face, took out her phone, and shoved it in front of my eyes, as if she was ready for my question. “I want to try out this new place. It’s like the in place; everyone has been there but us.” The place was indeed beautiful, if the pictures were anything to go by, and considering the neighborhood, it was most probably expensive.

“It looks pricey, you know.”

Sophie rolled her eyes and raised her brow. “So? It never stopped us before.”

“Yeah, but before, we had money. In case you haven't noticed, we were disowned a year ago.” She winced, and then her eyes started to tear up. I knew I was screwed, because tears were her ultimate weapon.

“Please, Sapphire, you know how much I need it after the sucky year we had. It was awful. We live in a dump. Our parents want nothing to do with us, and this party…maybe Logan will be there,” she whispered, and I groaned inwardly.

Logan was bad news and an old crush of hers, but nothing could have kept Sophie away from him. He was once a legendary musician and a member of a famous rock band, but he was kicked out for heavy drinking and drug use. He was never faithful to her, never gave a shit about her, and always shut her out. Truth be told, he probably never even considered her anything but a casual hookup. She was able to follow him around when we used to be part of the elite, but that was no longer the case. I had no desire to go in search of the asshole, but it was better to agree to the plan. One way or another, she would find him, and I preferred to keep an eye on her.

“Fine.”

Sophie squealed and hugged me tight. She waved with her hand and caught a cab.

“Let’s go,” I muttered under my breath. Sitting inside the cab, I prayed for this not to end chaotically.

Anytime I was in a vehicle, I loved to gaze out the window and admire the view in front of me, but like I said, tonight I was feeling exceptionally restless. The beautiful sight of New York at night in all its glory did nothing to calm my nerves or put me in a better mood. Sophie was retouching her makeup, making sure her lips shined with glossy lipstick while her cheeks stood out, thanks to bronzer.

Twenty minutes later, we stopped in front of a big, dark building with a long line at the entrance. Clearly, whatever it was, the owners didn't want to advertise their assets.

“That will be twenty dollars,” the cabbie said, and Sophie turned her head to me as she opened the door.

“Sapphire, you’ve got it, right?” She bit her lip worriedly, and her wide eyes held mine in a begging stare. With a sigh, I shook my head, opened my purse, and gave him the money. We got out and, as always, she grabbed my hand and smiled thankfully. “Babe, I know you are probably tired of paying all the time, but I promise once I get this contract I’ll make it up to you. We could even move somewhere else.” That was the thing about Sophie. She dreamed about a lot of things, but rarely did anything to achieve them.

When the fallout with our parents happened, neither of us was prepared for what was to come. Sophie was resistant and wanted to fight it, but I stopped her. She had no idea what our parents did, what shit they got into, and how dangerous everything was. I was just glad we got out of it alive. I had some money from my savings and, thank God, I went to college. I was able to get a job as a librarian at the university, which didn't pay much, but at least allowed me to cover rent and food for us. Sophie tried to land some jobs in modeling, but so far, no one replied, and I doubted anyone would. She was beautiful, but she was too old to make a name. Probably no one wanted her due to her reputation as a party girl, which she earned in our “before” life, as we liked to call it. She never went to college; so mostly, she sat at home or made us waste the money I earned. She had been my best friend since middle school, but to be honest, I was starting to get tired of supporting both of us, in addition to her escapades.

“Sophie, maybe you need to take the waitressing job in that restaurant. I heard the tips are very good, and you know better than anyone we could use some money.” She huffed and brushed her hair from her face once again.

“Girl, I’m no waitress. I don’t know how to do it, and I don’t want to learn.” It was our constant argument these days, and it made me mad. On the weekends, I worked as a bartender in a local bar, and she thought waitressing was a job beneath her. A job was a job, as long as you worked hard and earned the money honestly. How could it be beneath you? I couldn’t find any logic in her words.