Even though Jay had been awful, Octavia couldn’t just leave her on the ground.
With a groan, Octavia approached the drunken woman and kicked her side. “Wake up.”
“Wh-who?” Jay uttered, prying her eyes open.
Hand on hip, Octavia glared down at the woman. “Ms. Firefly, it is your maid, Octavia. Please take my hand so I can help you to the couch.”
Jay swatted Octavia’s hand away and slurred, “Fu-q.”
Feeling frustration creep up, Octavia was about to say, “screw it” and leave her on the ground.
“Ms. Firefly, it is your maid, Octavia. Please take my hand, so I can help you to the couch.”
This time, Jay spat at Octavia, missing completely. But it still hurt that she’d do something like that.
She is not in her right mind. Octavia had to remind herself. But then again, she’s disrespectful all the time.
In the most monotone voice, she could muster. And for the final time she’d try, Octavia held her hand out, saying, “Ms. Firefly, this is Octavia, your maid. Please take my hand so I can get you to the couch for your safety.”
This time Jay slapped the hand away, making Octavia’s skin sting and yelled at her, “Fuck--off!”
With a huff, Octavia swallowed her anger and marched down the hall, leaving her boss to lay there and die for all she cared.
∞
Beep Beep Beep startled Octavia awake. She smacked the bedside clock and stretched as she slipped out of bed. It was a little past ten on a Sunday. Octavia’s day off. After the weeks of working for Ms. Firefly, Octavia was in dire need of a break. She planned to spend the morning shopping for fresh fruits and vegetables at a farm’s market in Brooklyn before she’d catch a matinee at the movie theatre. Movies, popcorn, and wine coolers for one were much needed today.
Excited for the day’s possibilities, Octavia hurried out of bed, took a shower then changed. Instead of cooking at home, she would opt to pick up a slice of pizza in Brooklyn. Dressed in knee-high boots, skinny jeans, a black turtleneck, and rain jacket, Octavia hurried out of her quarters down the hall, ready to hit the town.
For the first time, Octavia was in a good mood. The smile on her face was contagious, and it only brightened when she saw her boss still passed out on the marble floor.
Click click click click… Came to a descending echo as Octavia’s steps slowed down to a halt. Part of the maid wanted to step over her unruly boss and let the woman sleep in her own vomit. But Octavia believed herself to be better than that.
Pity laced the maid’s eyes as she looked down at the unfortunate woman. Puke dripped from the side of her mouth and pooled around her face. Black leather jacket lay half splayed out as if she tried to take it off the night before but couldn’t get her arms free.
Making sure that she was still alive, Octavia kicked Jay’s side twice, sprouting a groan from the star’s pits. Half asleep, Jay rolled over to her stomach, her face now covered in her own vomit.
Karmic bliss aside, Octavia smirked as she moved into the kitchen to get a damp cloth for Jay.
“Here,” Octavia said, throwing the towel on the rockstar’s lap as she sat up.
“Thanks for helping me to bed,” Jay sneered up at her. A look of disgust aimed toward her help.
Hand on a hip, Octavia took advantage of the rare height difference. “I tried. But you yelled, hit, and spat at me.”
If Jay was remorseful, she didn’t show it. Instead, she picked herself up, wiping off the puke on her face. Somehow Jay managed to make the entire process appear casual. As if it wasn’t the first time, she woke up covered in her own vomit.
Then again, it probably is a regular occurrence in Jay Firefly’s world.
Jay’s eyes bore into Octavia until the maid glared back up at her. Octavia noted the flash of discomfort that set in when she purposely looked into Jay’s eyes.
Jay squared her shoulder. “Instead of staring, you should be collecting up my puke.” A tone of authority resonated in Jay’s words, but Octavia caught a hint of insecurity.
Octavia visibly rolled her eyes at the woman and put her earbuds in her ears. “Sorry, Ms. Firefly,” she said. She gazed down at her phone. Attention on picking out music as she stepped around Jay. “It’s my day off. But I’ll be sure to get it up first thing in the morning.” Octavia added in a high pitched--perky tone, “Have a great day!”
∞
There was a skip to Octavia’s step as she made her way through the subway station. In her earbuds, “Boogie Wonderland” played, which made her want to break out in song and dance in the middle of the station.
Purse tucked close to her side as she stepped into the crowded train. Since there were no seats, she held to one of the hanging handles, sandwiched between a man in a black suit, a woman talking on her phone as if there weren’t someone inches away from her. Octavia directed her gaze to the other side of the train to make sure the woman’s spit didn’t hit her. Octavia’s eyes landed on a handsome gentleman, who smiled down at her. A hint of flirtation in his gaze. Octavia shied away as her cheeks reddened.
The train stopped, letting her off at her destination. Directly up the stairs of the underground station was Octavia’s favorite pizza parlor. She made her way inside the tiny shack and looked around to see the place was busy. No surprise for a Sunday.
As she waited in line, Octavia looked at the different options held in the display box. Cheese, pepperoni, combination of veggies and meat, combination of just vegetables, roasted garlic spinach and white sauce, and Hawaiian were held on silver plates. The man behind the register beckoned for Octavia to approach. The look on his face told her that she better be ready to place her order.
“What can I get you?” He asked, barely acknowledging her existence.
“Cheese pizza with a medium drink.” Octavia presented her card, which the man snatched, swiped, then handed it back, simultaneously giving her a ticket that read 12.
“Next,” he called out.
The person behind Octavia pushed forward, forcing her to step to the side while trying to put the card back in her wallet. The rude behavior was classic New York. Even though Octavia wasn’t used to living like this, having only been in the state for three months, she realized quickly not to take people’s abrupt demeanor to heart.
After filling up her cup with Sprite at the soda station, Octavia leaned up against the beige wall, where everyone waited patiently for their order. Eyes darted back and forth at all the patrons coming and going in the small restaurant. There was nowhere to eat. People typically grabbed their pizza to-go and then took it across the street to the park or next door to the ice cream parlor.
“Twelve!” A man called out, leaving a pizza box on the pick-up counter. Octavia left her ticket and grabbed her meal.
Octavia hurried across the street, food in hand, and searched for a place to sit in the park. For a winter day, the sun was out, no snow on the ground, and the market was in full swing. People hurried here and there, parked at different food stands. Kids played in the distance along the grass. Couples walked hand in hand blissfully.
There had to be hundreds in the area, but Octavia found a quiet place right beneath an oak tree. She took a seat on the grass, noting that it was a bit damp from either rain or sprinklers. Octavia said a quick thanks to the heavens, happy that she had the urge to wear her raincoat that day.