12:35 AMFrom outside the dank cube, they could hear the faint pulses of music, chairs and feet scraping, and the tell-tale sound of bottles popping and clanking.
But inside the bar's girls' bathroom, everything seemed a bit muted and inexplicably more colorful than the party outside.
"I don't know what else to say, woman. I don't like her. I'm not gonna like her and I really just want her to dis-a-fuckin-pear." the first said, pulling mascara from her purse. "I mean, can she really expect me to be fucking pleasant?"
She dragged liquid across each lash, then reached for the concealer she hoped would hide the fatigued red lines beneath them.
"I guess I get you," the second started, washing her hands in the tepid sink. "It's just, I mean...well you know, she's trying. She doesn't have to you know, she could not talk to you back." Her words fell dully away.
"Are you kidding me?!" the first answered, a ragged eye piercing back. Suddenly, she looked vulnerable, a wounded animal protecting something there inside the bathroom. "I don't like her. I never will. And I don't want her around. I'm going to see to that too. This is my time. She had her chance."
"It's just," the second stammered, "It's just I don't think that's it at all....it's that. I mean."
"What?!" the first responded, exasperated.
"It's just that I think she's happy where she is and just wants everyone else to be okay. You know? So she doesn't have to worry about stuff."
"Well she better worry," the first retorted. "I'm gonna cut the bitch."
And with that, she pulled lipstick out of her purse and scrawled the words next to the stall.
"Here we go."
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