THE PLEASURE IN YOUR PAIN

CHAPTER TWO

ROCHELLE

I wake up to the smell of an all-too-familiar stink.

The stink of poverty and homelessness. At least, that’s what I call it.

“Get TF off me, dude!” I groan, pushing off the old stinking hobo who’s been sharing my newspaper corner and using my leg as a pillow.

I sit up and unzip my purse strapped to my waist — the only property I own apart from the clothes on my back.

I pull out my last sachet of cocaine, licking off the crumbs — barely anything left.

“Hey... can I have a smell?” the old hobo begs, holding out a dirty palm.

No way, dude. There’s barely enough for me.

“No can do, Gramps!” I shake my head, swatting his hand away and standing up, heading toward the clearer street.

“It’s almost 9:00 AM,” I mutter to myself, picking a louse from my hair and squashing it, then scratching an itch on my butt.

“So, some food stores must be open…” I trail off, pulling out the change in my purse.

*One dollar and ten cents.*

I scoff, unsurprised by the emptiness. That’s life — like Annie said:

*It’s a hard-knock life!*

And yeah, it’s a *f*****g* hard-knock life.

I keep walking, lost in thought, until I find myself standing in front of a small café.

*Looks cheap, don’t it?*

I sigh and walk in.

Disgusted and uncomfortable stares meet me from customers and workers alike.

Well, I haven’t showered, washed my hair, or changed clothes in... weeks? Months? I lost count.

I almost turn and leave, but a young, pretty brunette behind the counter smiles warmly and gestures me over.

I swallow and return the smile, walking up to her.

“Hiya! How ya doin’?” Her country accent is thick and friendly.

I purse my lips, looking down at my filthy clothes, then shrug, managing a small smile.

“Oh, don’t feel bad. Everybody hits rock bottom once.” She chuckles and offers me a seat.

“I’m Rebecca, but you can call me Becky — everyone does.” She hands me a wipe.

“For?” I whisper.

“To wipe the dirt,” she whispers back, smiling softly.

She lets me sit, brings me a hot cup of tea and some buns while she works.

I watch the workers interact with customers and the usual drama that comes with it.

Soon, I notice nobody’s staring at me anymore.

I also notice I’ve downed two cups of tea and eaten eight pieces of buns — all for free!

Most customers have left; only a few workers and Becky remain.

“I’m done — now I’m all yours, pretty,” she chuckles, her country accent thick as she takes off her apron and lets her ponytail loose.

“What do they call you, hun?” she asks, flashing that welcoming smile again.

“Um... Rochelle,” I reply.

“Well, Rochelle darlin’, I own this little quaint café in this corner of town. And not to brag, but I make some good money,” she chuckles.

“How would you like a job?” she asks.

Did I hear right?

My eyes widen in disbelief; she laughs at my surprise.

“I have no qualifications,” I say.

“Qualification’s a big word, darlin’. I think you’ll fit in just fine. Besides, it’s just taking orders — leave the heavy lifting to us dearie.”

“So... employee?” she asks, offering her hand.

“Thank you.” I shake it vigorously, happiness flooding my face and true joy dancing in my eyes.

“You’ll need a place to stay. You can crash with me tonight,” she smiles, grabbing her bag and signaling me to follow as she locks up.

●●●

“Here’s a clean change of clothes,” she hands me some, pointing to the bathroom.

“Trash those clothes after,” she says, scrunching her nose.

I don’t blame her. I do stink.

I enter the bathroom, strip off my filthy clothes, and turn on the shower.

Warm, steamy water cascades down my hair, all the way to my feet.

“Oh my gosh!” I quietly shriek, hearty laughter bubbling out.

Water. Clean. Clear. Beautiful water.

I bask in the warmth a while, scrubbing away the dirt that’s stuck to me.

I walk out dressed, staring at my clean reflection. My hair bounces back in ginger curls, my white skin glowing with freckles prettily scattered across my face.

“You look beautiful!” a whistle comes from behind me, making me blush.

“Some clean sheets and a pillow. Goodnight, darlin’,” Becky smiles and walks out.

I make the bed and crawl in, cuddling the blankets.

A bed! A *real* mattress!

I feel like I’m in a fairy tale.

I giggle to myself, turn off the light, and drift to sleep