Leah & Daphne
“You brought wine?”
Daphne leans in the doorway, barefoot, wrapped in a skimpy silk robe. Her blonde hair’s twisted into a loose knot, a mascara wand dangling between two fingers like a cigarette.
“Come on in. I’m mid-beautification.” She turns, padding back down the hall.
Leah follows her into the bedroom. Beauty samples clutter every surface. Dresses hang off open drawers. She kicks off her worn Jimmy Choos and sinks into the velvet couch with a groan.
“I had a day,” she mutters, stretching out her legs.
Daphne flips open a compact and flicks the wand across one eye. “You always have a day. Try having a night, for once.”
“If Wendy sends me one more email about professional decorum, I’m just forwarding them all to HR with the subject line: help.”
“Please. Professional decorum’s her entire identity. Probably because there’s nothing underneath.”
“Yeah, but you don’t know her like I do. She’s got no decorum.” Leah lifts her glass in a slow, lazy toast. “She’s the most vile, vulgar, manipulative woman I’ve ever had the pleasure to meet. She only pretends to be flawless. And sometimes… The right email in the wrong hands can change everything.”
“Sounds like someone’s been scheming,” Daphne says, putting down the compact. “But are you sure you want that war? Wendy doesn’t strike me as someone who loses. Or someone who loses quietly.”
“Neither do I. And I’m tired of watching her win.”
“Well, you can’t just tease that and not deliver. Spill, girl.”
Leah leans back, savoring the moment with quiet superiority. “Let’s just say I know exactly where the bodies are buried. And some of them have Wendy’s fingerprints all over them.”
“You’re playing with fire, babes.” Daphne tips back the last of her wine and sets the glass down with a clink. “I like it.”
“Better yet—” Leah’s smirk returns. “I’m fireproof.”
“That’s my girl.” Daphne glances at her phone and groans. “Ugh. I have to get to Icons.”
“Okay, I’ll let you go.”
Daphne pauses, teasing. “Or… You could give me a reason to flake?”
“Well.” Leah eyes the empty glass, then Daphne. “I could use another pour. And maybe a bump. You sure Shane won’t lose it if you bail again?”
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“Please.” Daphne scoffs, already tipping the bag onto the glass table. She cuts a sharp, confident line with her Black Amex.
“You’re not the only one who’s fireproof.”
By the time she arrives at Icons, she looks picture-perfect—tousled hair, glossy lips, that sly, magnetic smile. But Shane sees through it the second she stumbles in.
“Being late doesn’t make you mysterious, Daphne. Just unreliable.”
“Relax, boss.” She flashes him an unbothered grin. “I showed up, didn’t I?”
“Barely. Showing up isn’t the same as showing up right.”
“I always show up right. That’s why you keep me around.”
“Is it? I’m starting to wonder.”
Daphne rolls her eyes, pushing through the crowd toward the far end of the bar, head down, until she spots Gareth, alone at a banquette, nursing a bourbon. Their eyes meet. She flashes a quick smile. “Hey, stranger.”
He lifts his glass, face unreadable, as she disappears down the hallway.
Outside, she fishes a tiny baggie from her bra, taps a bump onto the back of her key. One quick inhale. Burn. Blink. Done. Then she lights a cigarette with a shaky hand.
“You keep that up, Shane’s gonna catch on.”
Daphne turns with another eye roll. “Mind your business, Gareth. Go flip a condo.” She takes a long drag, not offering him a look.
“I’m just saying. Don’t think he won’t fire you.”
She exhales, the smoke blowing right past his face. “Like I need this job. I’m shit at it anyway. I only keep showing up because it gives me somewhere to be. What else am I gonna do? Pilates and lymphatic drainage facials all day?”
He lifts his glass, unfazed. “There are worse ways to kill time.”
“Like what?” She flicks ash toward the drain. “I used to think I wanted to be famous, remember? Like, actual famous. Red carpets, brand deals, luxury trips, endorsements for crap I’d never touch. And I was close. Kind of. Two hundred thirty thousand followers on Instagram. You know that?”
“How could I forget.”
“All because my life was ‘aspirational.’ I did those flat-tummy-tea ads. FabFitFun boxes. I got invited places just for being visible. I even had a pilot… Brunch Bitch.”
“Yeah. You’ve mentioned it.”
She pauses, then says more quietly, “What am I even doing now? Working the door at Icons like it’s some kind of career move?”
She leans against the wall, suddenly still. “During COVID, everything cracked. I watched the world burn and influencers turn it into content. I just… couldn’t. I didn’t want to sell myself anymore. Or my soul. So, walking away was easy. It was never about money, so I didn’t lose anything real. But trust me, being public? It hurts. So I thought, okay, maybe I’ll try a real job. You can get fired from a job, sure. But at least there’s no comments section. You don’t get canceled the way an influencer can.”
“I’m not sure that’s true, Daphne.”
“But I treat jobs like hobbies. I dabble, then I quit.”
Gareth folds his arms, like he knows exactly where this is going. “You could still get back into it, though. Couldn’t you?”
“Please. Even if I wanted to, it’s too late. I don’t know how to use TikTok. I’m twenty-five. Past my expiration date. No skills, no résumé, no friends, no job.”
“You have friends. Like me. And Shane, your friend who gave you a job.”
“For now. But what’s the point? Scraping tips while girls like Leah claw their way to the top, just to get shredded by bitches like Wendy?”
“What do Leah and Wendy have to do with anything?”
Daphne hesitates, glancing sideways, then stubs her cigarette out against the wall. “Leah’s got something on her.”
“On Wendy?”
“Something big,” she says with a shrug. “Made it sound like she’s sitting on ammo.”
“What kind of ammo?”
Daphne almost says it, but catches herself. She sees the glint in his eye, then hesitates. Because one thing everyone knew: for all his moral posturing, homeboy loved to gossip. No doubt, Gareth had the loosest lips in the building.
“You’re right. They’ve got nothing to do with it. Thanks for the chat, babes,” she says with a wink and an air-kiss, then slips back inside like none of it ever happened.