Page 20 of Omega Artist
“I can’t believe that girl! She spots a hot guy that she wants and has to have him.” At least, Solène gets my point. “Once a slut, always a slut!” Frankly, I don’t see why that’d make me a slut. Then she cackles.
Another voice that I can’t place adds, “Girls have been clinging to him all night. It’s true, though. The guy’s totally hot, but he’s a DJ… Come on, he’s a total chick magnet.”And all these years, I thought that was reserved for rock stars and actors.“Still, he’s got STD written all over his hot body.”Hello, stereotypes, again!
“I mean, it’s obvious that he can get any girl he wants.”Right, Solène.“It’s no wonder Alie fell on her knees and opened her mouth for the guy.”Or not, but what if I had?“He’d only have to blink, and she’d open her legs for him.”Or not, but what if I had?“It’s just wrong for so many reasons!”Or not, but what if I were?
I disregard the nasty comments.
All I can think is:jealous much?Thanks for your concern, ladies, but I know how to take care of myself.
Despite wanting to scream at them to shut the fuck up, I have much better things to do, so I tune them out. I hate when men judge women for the kind of behavior that they’d be proud of. I detest when men praise other men for a behavior that they would condemn from a woman. But what I loathe the most is women pointing fingers at other women and talking trash when they should stick together to pave the way forward.
Although I don’t approve of how some of my female friends view sex, I don’t judge. Whether they use sex to obtain favors, select men based on their bank accounts, or try various tactics to keep their flowers—as they call them—intact, no matter how hypocritical it may be. Would they act differently if we didn’t live in a world ruled by men? I wonder.
I swallow my hurt feelings, although part of me doesn’t care. Even though it pains me to be viewed this way, I’m used to it. The story is never accurate. The guy is always viewed as a conqueror. The girl is never allowed to own her sexual appetite.
You know what? Fuck y’all!
Irritated, I grab my phone from my wristlet, right after peeing, and stare at the screen. Perched on the toilet seat with my panties and black opaque tights neatly rolled down to my knees, I check my social media. The incongruity of the situation doesn’t hamper me from being transported to another world. A safer world where I have complete control over my image, my actions, and my sponsors as Alie G. Yes, as an influencer, I have paid partnerships with a couple of brands as if I were a model, which is awesome; too bad my otherwise brilliant father doesn’t understand the first thing about this!
The booming music becomes white noise. The crowded venue becomes nonexistent. The crazy party becomes less obnoxious. And over the next half hour, I respond to most of the fun, ridiculous, or witty comments while mustering the courage to begin a conversation with the man that I despise and now converse with on a daily basis.
Per usual, I engage him first. It’s the last day of the year—or maybe the first one of another year by now?—so I was curious whether Mr. de Luca would message me if I didn’t do it myself. I got my answer. Apart from the time that Tig first reached out and PMed me, we’ve silently established that I initiate things between us on my own terms. From then on, it seems that his phone is always nearby, and consequently, so am I. Funny how our “talks” have apparently become a focal point of his life in so little time.
Instinctively, I heave a loud sigh, wondering what I’m going to tell the guy, but my fingers have a mind of their own.
Alie G: What are you up to?
I’m frustrated that he doesn’t answer right away and play on my phone to kill time, resolving to shut it off if he doesn’t reply within fifteen minutes. But he does and the beginning of a smile forms at the corner of my mouth; my own reaction at his message baffles me.
Tig: “Talking” to you as of now. Sorry I’m just seeing this now. I’m at my bestie’s. No phone at the dinner table. Escaping to the balcony for a minute!
Alie G: I’m bored out of my skull.
Tig: Boring dinner?
Alie G: Massive party. Too many people and I’m not a people person.
Tig: Odd. I thought you were an influencer.
Alie G: Correct. People are easier to deal with online, IMHO.
That couldn’t be truer.
Tig: Are you saying we wouldn’t be having this convo if we were face-to-face?
Alie G: Idk. I always tell you meaningless shit that I might not want to tell you IRL. Like my drink of choice is vodka. Like my fav singer is Alanis Morissette. Like my fav movie is Point Break.
Next on my list isPretty Woman. Best rom-com ever, but you’d have to torture me to confess that… and even then!
Tig: Not meaningless, it’s called a conversation (lol). I love Point Break. The original, right?
Alie G: Obvly! Keanu rocks. I’m a fan of all of his movies, including Bill & Ted.
Tig: Lol on B&T.
We discuss Keanu’s career. (Yeah, Keanu and I are on a first-name basis!) As if we’d watch any of his movies together. As if I’d end up surfing with him anywhere in the world. As if someday I’d tell him, “I caught my first tube this morning, Sir.” At some point, he decides to add something that I wasn’t expecting.
Tig: You know that you can tell me anything, right?
