SOFIA
“Fucking motherfucker,” I whispered and sniffed.
“Miss?” a woman dressed in all black handed me a tissue.
“Thanks,” I replied, dabbing the skin beneath my eyes so I wouldn’t smear my makeup.
It was stupid. I was stupid. Crying over a man who had literally bought me because he was dancing with some skinny ho. Shit. That wasn’t nice. I never wanted to be the kind of woman who called other women hos just cause they were flashy and liked a different aesthetic than me. I didn’t know the woman. I just hated her the second she touched him. Fuck. That didn’t make me any better, did it?
“Are you okay, miss?” the restroom attendant asked.
“Yes. I’m sorry. Thank you,” I said, and she nodded towards the door.