"Hello?" It was 3:00 in the damn morning; surely she wasn't calling again…

"L-L-Lolo?" Yeah, it was her all right. This was the fourth night in a row that she'd done this. "Lo is that you? Please say its you Loleelolo…" Her voice trailed off. Was she drunk or was she high? Perhaps she was both.

"Yes, Kimby. It's me." Her voice was raspy with sleep. "What is it?" Kimby was Lolita's pet name for Kimberlyn; it had been ever since they were fourteen years old.

"Lo, oh my gaaaaawd. Youuu're never gonna believe me in a hundred milliondy years. I am. I am. I am so ashamed of myself." Kimberlyn's words were slurring together. Lolita could hear the phone smacking on something hard, probably the hardwood floor in her boyfriend's apartment. Hopefully it was her boyfriend's apartment anyway.

"Well, I remember the time you laughed so hard you pissed in your pants while we were at Six Flags, and I remember the time you made me help you hack into Tim's computer so you could erase the dirty emails you sent each other. I have been there for your lowest moments… I'd believe pretty much anything you did." She laughed at this statement, but she laughed to keep from crying. She didn't want to say, "I'd believe anything you did because you're a coke addicted anorexic who parties too much." Rick stirred in the bed next to Lolita.

"Who is it L?" He said groggily. "Oh shit, it's her again…" He rolled back over. Lolita patted his butt and got up from the bed and went into the dark living room and sat on the carpet while she listened to Kimberlyn's drunken, or stoned, or both account of what shameful deeds she'd done that night.

"Haha. I remember that. Those were the good ol' days Lo." Kimberlyn coughed and the phone clacked on the hard thing again.

"Yeah… so what'd you do?" Lolita yawned.

"K… so I was at Veruca's party and oh my god… everyone was doing it Lo. The stuff was everywhere. Mitch didn't want me to go but I did. I told him I had to because Veruca said that Hans Porter was gonna be there. I've always wanted to meet Hans Porter! He makes the best shoes you know! 'Magine me posing for Hans' shoes huh? Big shot. So he was like, 'whatever' and I just went. K… so everyone was doing it Lo. I couldn't help it. So of course everyone was drinking too. I'm still preeeeetty drunk. And you know Mitch was being such a butt head. I mean, he doesn't like me going to parties alone but he never comes with me… but I went and I was drunk… And you know I passed out. I did. I blacked out and oh my god Lo… When I woke up… oh my god… I can't even say it." Kimberlyn started crying and the phone kept clacking on the hard thing. She was sobbing and speaking incoherently.

Lolita hadn't ever known Kimberlyn to be like this. Back when they were kids she was so stable, and normal. Usually it was Lolita getting into trouble, and Kimberlyn being the voice of reason. "Kimby… Kimby… calm down, it'll be okay. Stop crying and tell me what happened. I'm sure it isn't that bad." After a long time of Lolita making comforting, "Shhing" sounds into the phone, Kimberlyn began to calm down and speak again. She sounded clearer headed, maybe crying had sobered her up a little.

"It is that bad Lo. It is. I did something bad. When I woke up. When I woke up… from… being passed out. I-I-oh my god-I was in a bed. I never been there before, in that bed… and um… I rolled over and I was alone. I was in a house and stuff. All my clothes were on and whatever, and all my stuff was in a pile next to the bed, and no one was there Lo. I mean, what the hell man? So I went all over the house and looking for somebody and saying, 'Hello, hello' but nobody heard me so I just grabbed a taxi and left. Now I'm back in the apartment… So what the fuck Lo? What happened? Did I have sex last night? Or did I just pass out? I got back home and Mitch ain't here, and he left me a note but I'm too fucking drunk to read it right now." Kimberlyn started crying again, and Lolita buried her face in her hands.

"You're too drunk to read?" She asked, rubbing her eyes and picking out the yellow crusty gunk.

"Uh huh." Kimberlyn said through her sobs, then coughing and clacking the phone.

"That's really fucking drunk Kimby." She shook her head at the darkness of her home, at Kimberlyn's stupid drunken binge, and at the whole world.

"I" she sniffed "Know!" Yet again Kimberlyn dissolved into tears, she had the most heartbreaking sounding cry. It was a soft sob, and a choking sound, and little whimpers and squeaks all rolled into one. Lolita hated hearing it.

"Okay. Kimby. Listen to me. Are you listening?" Lolita hated asking uncomfortable questions, but she had to.

"Uh huh" Kimberlyn continued to sniffle but she had stopped crying.

"Okay -oh my god Kimberlyn- Look, how is everything… uh… downstairs?"

"I live in an apartment Lo. I don't have stairs." Kimberlyn's voice had a frustrated tone, as if to say, "Duh Lolo…" She rolled her eyes.

"No… your downstairs Kimberlyn. Your downstairs." Geez, how many brain cells had this girl lost?

"Oh. It's fine I guess, I got a normal pap smear last time." She can't be serious… She's just as bad as Tiffany tonight.

"NO Kimberlyn. Dammit… Does it reek of sex or what?" Lolita threw her hands into the air in frustration.

"I dunno…" There were fumbling sounds "Uh… nope. Nothing funky. Miss Kitty is AOK." Ew… when did she start calling it Miss Kitty? Whatever happened to vagina?

"Then I'm pretty sure you didn't have sex last night." Lolita let out a sigh of relief, for all she knew her friend wasn't even on birth control anymore. How could she be so stupid? Anything could have happened. She made a mental note to find out who had taken Kimberlyn home, and write them a thank you note for not dumping her out on a curb someplace or letting her get raped or overdose or something. Lolita wondered if Veruca knew what happened at her own party.

"But… Mitch's note… Mitch isn't here Lolo! What if he's gone for good?" Yet again, Kimberlyn starting sobbing uncontrollably. The saddest part is that he had every reason to go, and both drunk and stoned Kimberlyn and sleepy Lolita knew it, without even having to read his note.

"Look Kimby. Calm down. Go to sleep and I'll be over there in a few hours. We'll get something to eat okay? We'll read Mitch's note, eat something, and decide what to do." Lolita looked around her house and thought to herself, "And I'll have to get Rick to clean out the guest room while I'm there because I'm sure that Mitch wants her gone after all this time… and of course she'll have to stay with me." She knew that a whole new can of warms was about to open up.

"Get something to eat? Like that'll help. I'll just get fat and then no one will want me then." This coming from eighty-pounds worth of model with a serious cocaine addiction… Nobody wanted her because she was losing her mind, not because she was fat.

"Don't talk that way. Look, I'll be over in a few hours. I'm going back to bed. You go to sleep too okay?"


They both hung up at the same time. Lolita made herself a single shot of Jack Daniel's and drank it down. Then padded back to the bedroom, where Rick was sitting up in bed.

"It was too hard to go back to sleep." He said and embraced her as climbed back underneath the blankets.

"She's so fucked up. I thought I had problems Rick… but she… she's gone off her rocker. I'm scared to death she's gonna overdose on… who knows what… and then my best friend of ten whole years… I can't stand it…" She curled over and rested her chin in her hands and her elbows on her knees.

"It's rehab time in Kimby-land I think." Rick put his arm around Lolita and patted her on the shoulder. "I'm sorry…" Rick had friends that had been to rehab, some had gotten out overdosed, and some were clean now. Rehab was pretty much a mixed bag.

"I know… She went to this party last night and Mitch didn't want her to go. When she got back from the party she found a note, and Mitch is gone. She's too drunk to even read the note, so she was calling me. Plus she woke up in a strange place and was afraid she'd had random coked-out sex with someone, which she didn't, as far as I know from asking her questions. Oh and she's calling her you-know-what 'Miss Kitty' now. Gross." They both rolled their eyes at Kimberlyn, who couldn't see them and would never know.

"God… so now what?" Rick asked, even though he knew the answer.

Lolita scooted under the blankets to lie down. "Well obviously the note from Mitch is a goodbye. She has to leave… and I'm going over the in the morning to collect her… so will you please be a wonderful boyfriend and clean up the guest room a little bit so she can stay here? Pretty please?" She knew Rick would do it, after all, it was her house and he was just as much of a guest as Kimberlyn would be. Plus no one could resist Lolita's "Pretty Pleases", it something to do with her eyes and her pouty lips that made her so hard to say no to.

"… You know I will. You and your 'Pretty Please'. What do you want me to do with all the stuff?" He meant all the junk that was taking up space in the guest room. Rick rolled over after he said this to lie down next to Lolita.

"Just cram it wherever. Kimberlyn has so much crap that the guest room will be stuffed to the brim." Lolita snuggled in and closed her eyes.

"K. 'Night L."

"G'night Rickie."

They both fell asleep. Usually Rick's snoring kept Lolita awake for a few minutes, but she nodded off right away. She had a dream that she was eating daises in a supermarket.

Four hours later, around 7:45 am, Lolita woke up and lay in bed for a few minutes, remembering what she had to do that day. Rick was still asleep; he always slept until noon. She got out of bed and walked across the room and into her bathroom, and then into the adjoining walk-in closet. She had tons of clothes, and she stood there rifling through them all for a few minutes before selecting a pair of black trouser-style slacks and a crisp white button down shirt. The shirt used to be her ex boyfriend Landon's. For a man Landon was kind of thin, but on Lolita the shirt came down past her butt and was quite loose on her. She had the sleeves shortened by a lady she knew that did alterations. She cinched the shirt together with a wide red patent leather belt around her tiny waist, and threw on a couple strands of pearls and her black Christian Louboutin heels with the red soles. The effect was quite chic. Then she headed into the bathroom and brushed her teeth. Then she swept her red hair into a chic ponytail at the nape of her neck, swiped on a little mascara and blush, and headed back to the bedroom. She kissed Rick on the forehead and he grunted, "Luh you" and she left the room. She entered the kitchen and found a bottle of Odwalla Superfood to down on her way to Kimberlyn's. She threw it in her huge Coach handbag, grabbed her cell off the charger and threw that in there too, and then put on her Chanel sunglasses and left.

She walked down the street drinking her Superfood smoothie, and rounded a few corners and came to a Starbucks. She threw the empty bottle away in the nearly stuffed trashcan outside and went in. She frequented Starbucks, and everyone looked up when she walked in the room. Lolita had that effect on rooms. She strode over to the counter and looked over the pastry case with a discriminating eye. Both were still covered by her sunglasses, she never took them off.

"Hi! Welcome to Starbucks. How may I help you today?" said the same barista she saw nearly every morning.

"Hi. Um, I'll have one cheese Danish to go, and –" She knew the girl would interrupt her, so she stopped talking.

"- A grande valencia and vanilla latte, skinny and no whip, with a clementine Izze and four Odwallas. Right?" The barista looked smug for remembering her order. Lolita liked it when people automatically knew what she wanted.

"Yes, but I'd also like to add a couple things to that. I also need a grande raspberry white mocha, skinny and no whip, with 2 bottled waters, a pink grapefruit Izze, a blueberry muffin, and another cheese Danish." She stared at the girl through her sunglasses. The girl was about 4'11 to Lolita's 5'9, and had short black hair with pink tips. She wore no makeup except for some black eyeliner. Her nametag said Alana. Lolita did not intimidate her, not by her beauty, nor her height. Lolita had always thought this was a little strange. Usually others were daunted by Lolita, especially short people.

"Oookaay." Said Alana, barista extraordinaire. "So that's a grande valencia and vanilla latte and a grande raspberry white mocha, both skinny and no whip. Four Odwallas, two bottled waters, two cheese Danishes, and a blueberry muffin, and two Izzes; one clementine and the other pink grapefruit. Right?" Again with that smug look… but you had to hand it to her, the girl was good at giving people coffee.

"Mmhmm." Lolita nodded and eyed an oddly phallic looking purple thermos on display, she considered adding it to the order and decided not to. She's not the carrying thermos type.

"K. That'll be $30.49." She typed some stuff into her POS computer, and held out her hand for Lolita's credit card and she gave it to her. She swiped it and gave her a receipt to sign along with a pink glittery pen with a feather on the top.

"Thanks." Said Lolita as she pushed the pen and paper across the counter. She walked over to a faux leather chair and sat down while she waited on her order to be collected. While she sat there she called the agency to have a driver come pick her up at the coffee shop. Drivers from Elite were free, cabs weren't. Not that she needed to save money, and she hated cabs mostly, but Rick would get on to her for spending too much money, so she used the agency drivers as much as she could get away with.

"Lolo, your order is ready." Alana, the magical punk rock barista, set down a large brown bag made of recycled paper on the counter, along with a brown cup holder that had both the lattes and two bottled waters in it. Each pastry was individually wrapped in a smaller brown bag, and the Odwalls and Izzes were in another separate bag. Both little bags were placed side by side in the big bag.

"Alana, you are amazing." Said Lolita and put a $20 in the tip jar. Then she picked up the bag and cup holder and walked out to the black Rolls that was parked outside.

"Driver" said Lolita in her best 'I'm better than you because I'm beautiful' voice "Take me to 46th and-" It dawned on her. "Oh, hello Walter!" Walter was her favorite driver; she didn't use The Voice with Walter.

"Hello Miss Lolo" He responded and nodded his grey head and winked at her. He was the most adorable little man. He was about sixty years old, and from Ohio. He came out to New York forty years ago to be an actor on Broadway but became a driver instead. On drives with Lolita he would often talk about his wife, Rebecca, who wanted to be an actress too, but now works at the perfume counter at Macy's. He was a very nice little man.

"Walter, you know you don't have to call me Miss Lolo." She'd been telling him that for the past three years but he still did it. He insisted upon it.

"Why? You get married or something?" He smiled.

"No Walter. Still me and Rick…not married."

"Uh oh Miss Lolo." He sighed at the youth of today, doing whatever they wanted in each other's bedrooms. "So where do you wanna go today?"

"46th and 123rd Street, Kimberlyn and Mitch's apartment." The car lurched forward into traffic and Lolita buckled the other seatbelt around her Starbucks order.

"Kimberlyn huh? I remember seeing an ad for some kind of perfume with her on it the other day when I went to go pick up my wife. Very nice." Walter had been driving Kimberlyn, Lolita, and Tiffany around since they had first started out. Going to industry parties, going to photo shoots… Walter had brought the girls home drunk on more than one occasion.

"Yes, it was for Landon Valentine's first fragrance. Mitch took the pictures for the whole ad campaign." Landon was the newest and hottest designer in New York, and he had just put out his first eau de toilette, Girl Next Door. It was meant to bring out the sweetness and innocence in the wearer. Evoking memories of holding hands in the movies with your first boyfriend, your first kiss, and walking home from school together.

"What a pair… a photographer and a model. Mitch and Kimberlyn are a perfect match." Thanks to Landon, Mitch and Kimberlyn had met three years ago on a photo shoot for Landon's accessories line. Mitch was a photographer who specialized in body painting, and photographing body paint. The first time she met Mitch she was totally nude, and he was painting her body blue and green. Kimberlyn said that she fell in love with him that very day, because he didn't see her as other men did. He saw her body as a beautiful canvas to make art with, not an object to violate and conquer.

"Yeah, they are." Lolita said, but she was thinking, "They were." Back before Kimberlyn had gotten into drugs, back before she went out to parties every single night, back before Landon, back before Fierce, and before that one night, three years ago.

About half an hour later Lolita climbed out of the Rolls in front of Kimberlyn and Mitch's apartment building. Mitch's studio was in the building next door. She wondered if maybe Mitch had slept there last night, and Kimberlyn was just too stupid and drunk to go check there. She waved goodbye to Walter. She'd given him the blueberry muffin from Starbucks, because he'd said he hadn't had breakfast yet that morning, and a $20 for his trouble. Even after living in New York for nearly five years, she still wasn't sure whom to tip and how much, so she tipped everyone. People kept telling her to stop tipping the Elite drivers, but she figured they were like taxi drivers who drove better cars, so she tipped them anyhow. Plus it was her money, and she could give it to whomever she damn well pleased.

She walked into the lobby of Mitch and Kimberlyn's artsy fartsy apartment building. It was perfect for the two of them. Everything was black and white and chrome. There were vases of fake red orchids on the tables. A painting Mitch had done, in black and white, hung on the wall in a far corner. Lolita thought it looked like a bunch of swervey lines, but apparently the staff in the apartment building thought it had profound meaning, or maybe they just bought it from him because it matched the décor? She wondered why the apartment building even had a lobby for a moment; she'd always thought that was weird. In all the apartments she'd ever lived in you could just walk straight to your door from outside, here you had to go in through the lobby. There was no other way to get in. Lolita got in an elevator; there was an old lady and a little kid in there with her. The little kid, a girl, kept looking at her and wiping her nose on her sleeve. "Granny", said the little girl quietly, "Will I be pretty like that when I grow up?" The grandmother shushed her. The elevator stopped on the fourth floor and Lolita got out and walked down the hall towards the apartment. The hallways in the building gave Lolita the creeps. Almost everything was blindingly white. The walls, the doors, even the doorknobs. The door numbers were red, and the ceiling and floor was black. The black ceiling and floor made the hall feel squished, and a little claustrophobic, like something from a bad dream.

She didn't knock. She didn't have to. First she tried to see if maybe Kimberlyn had left the door unlocked, being drunk and stoned she might have forgotten to lock it behind her. She had locked it though, so Lolita fished through her giant handbag and found the key to the apartment. Mitch had given it to her a few months ago, "In case you ever need it, for whatever reason." He'd said. Mitch giving Lolita a key was out of character for him, she'd always gotten the impression that he didn't trust her. She shrugged off the thought when she opened the door and walked inside. She sat her Starbucks bag down in the doorway. She looked everywhere except the bedroom to find Kimberlyn. She figured she could be passed out anywhere, the bathroom, the couch, the kitchen floor, anywhere. Sure enough, Kimberlyn had surprised her again. She was in the bed snoring loudly, fully clothed and with one shoe still on. It was a little after 9:00 am now, Lolita figured she'd let her friend sleep another few minutes while she tidied up a little. She picked up the phone off the living room floor, where she supposed Kimberlyn had laid, clacking away while talking to her last night. She found Mitch's note that had been lying on the coffee table. She didn't read it. She picked up Kimberlyn's handbag, and other shoe, and some other odds and ends and put them on the chair in the bedroom. Other than that the apartment was spotless. Mitch and Kimberlyn were the spotless kind of people. Lolita figured that being addicted to coke might have made Kimberlyn a little sloppy, but it hadn't. She was even more Martha Stewart than ever before, in fact. She went back to the front door and got the Starbucks bag and sat it on the table in the kitchen. As she was taking out the items, one by one, and setting them down on the table she inspected her fingernails. "I really need a nail file," she thought. When she finished she headed back to the bedroom. It was 9:30 now.

"Wake up Kimby." She said, shaking her friend vigorously. It was the only way to wake her up. Nothing else worked, well, except cold water but that made her really mad.

"Nuh uh" said Kimberlyn, three quarters of her mind still sleeping. She wouldn't remember this once she was awake.

"Uh huh. Kimberlyn you have to wake up." Lolita shook her some more.

"MMMMPH! GO WAY!" Kimberlyn groaned. "Mmmph headache…"

"You're hung-over you little drunkie, now get up or I'll tickle your feet." Kimberlyn hated being tickled more than anything else.

"Nuh uh" she said petulantly, and rolled over.

"Well alright then." Lolita took off Kimberlyn's right shoe. "Damn girl, you have stinky feet. I'm not doing this one." She let the shoe drop to the floor with a clop, and then tickled Kimberlyn's bare left foot with the nail on her index finger. It got results.

Kimberlyn shot up in bed, "STOP! STOP! STOP! LO! LO! STOP! STOP PLEASE STOP! PLEASE!" She yanked her foot away from Lolita and whined. "Meanie."

Lolita was laughing. "Haha! Okay, okay! Get your ass outa bed then." She stood next to the bed with her hands on her slim hips, looking fabulous, next to her disheveled and hung over best friend.

"Gah. I'm gittin' up… damn… why the hell'd you wake me up like that?" Kimberlyn adjusted her clothes. She was wearing the miniest of all mini-dresses, it was blue and black, and up around her waist; her pink and yellow polka dot boy short panties showing. She pulled it down.

"That's the only way to get you out of bed." She raised one eyebrow; she loved doing that because she didn't know anyone else who could. "You are one stubborn sleeper."

"Ugh. You should have let me sleep, but noooo." Kimberlyn rolled her eyes and put both feet on the floor then stopped.

"Well it's nice to see you too Miss Grumpy." Lolita sat down on the bed next to Kimberlyn.

"I'm so hung-over Lo…" Kimberlyn looked over at her favorite friend and lifesaver with puppy dog eyes. "I feel… like the shitiest of shit. Why do I do this to myself?"

Avoiding the question Lolita said, "I brought food."

"Not hungry." Said the pouty-faced Kimberlyn, who was still sitting on the bed.

"Too bad. You're gonna eat anyway." Lolita grabbed Kimberlyn's arm and tried to pull her up from the bed, but eighty-pound Kimberlyn didn't move, as if her butt had been super glued to the bed.

Kimberlyn's lip quivered, remembering why Lolita was waking her up and not her boyfriend. "Where's Mitch?" She asked, as she put her head in her hands. She didn't cry, but her nose ran.

"Kimby…" Lolita put her hand on her friend's tiny shoulder, and then withdrew it to walk across the room to get a tissue from the box lying on the bureau next to the door.

Kimberlyn looked up and took the tissue. Sounding resolved she said, "Mitch's left me hasn't he Lo?" She looked down; a pair of his boxers was on the floor next to her feet. This was his house, and everything in it was his. It all reminded her of him, and that she'd have to leave. He didn't want to put up with her anymore, and she knew it. Even in her drug addled brain she'd sensed it coming… The night he started sleeping on the couch…

"Probably." Lolita was famous for her brutal honesty, and Kimberlyn hated it and welcomed it. She hated it because it was true, and real. She welcomed it because it was the best thing for her.

Kimberlyn sighed and changed the subject. "What'd you bring?"

"A cold latte and cheese Danish."


Kimberlyn got up and changed out of last night's clothes and into a pair of light blue Ralph Lauren pajamas. She'd modeled them in a catalogue two years before. They'd let her keep them because she fawned over them so much during the photo shoot.

Lolita and Kimberlyn walked to the kitchen together. "How do you keep your house so clean Kimby?" she asked.

"Its easy. I clean up after myself when I make a mess." Kimberlyn sat down at the kitchen table. She hadn't eaten a real breakfast in weeks, and even though she was hungry she eyed the Starbucks bag with disdain. Exactly how many calories were in those Danishes? Cheese Danish was one of her favorites though, so she figured she'd eat one and then not eat for the rest of the day.

"Sure, you clean up your house when you make a mess, but what about your personal life?" Thought Lolita to herself. Instead of saying this, she responded, "Ah. I should try that. That way I won't have to keep calling Merry Maids. Rick is hopeless with housework, but he's a painter… painters tend to be messy." Lolita started to take the Danishes out of the bag, and unwrapping them she asked, "Where do you keep your plates?"

"Uh… the cabinet above the coffee maker - Mitch isn't messy, he paints… sometimes. " Kimberlyn watched Lolita take out two plates and put the Danishes on them. Then Lolita put them both in the microwave for thirty seconds.

"Mitch is an exception, he is scarily clean."

"Haha, he's a perfectionist, all artists are, he is just a perfectionist in all aspects of his life, whereas Rick is a perfectionist to his paintings only." The microwave dinged.

Lolita took the plates out of the microwave and sat them on the table. "Yeah, he definitely is a perfectionist about those paintings. Personally I don't get them. Mostly all he does is paint curves and dots and stuff. I mean, they are nice to look at and all, but I don't see how they mean things. Like, anger or fear or whatever it is he's trying to say with the picture. Its just a bunch of doodles to me."

"You're not the artsy fartsy type. I bet you like his portraits though."

"Yeah, especially the ones of me. He paints me with bigger boobies than what I have. Haha."

Kimberlyn shook her head. "You're insane."

"Psht. You are. "

"I know."

Kimberlyn and Lolita ate in almost silence. They occasionally chatted about people they knew. Veruca mostly. They talked about what she wore at the party last night. Veruca was famous for being on the edge of fashion. She was an ex-model turned socialite. She'd married a one hit wonder rock star and divorced him the same year, and was given a nice chunk of change. She remarried to some guy who had inherited his father's fortune in the jewelry store business. Veruca was nice enough, but definitely a social climber. Everyone loved Veruca, but in small doses. They loved Veruca's flamboyant personality (Veruca was like a drag queen who was already a woman), and even wilder parties. It was nearly every night with that woman, because she was always offering to throw someone a bash of some sort. Last night's party was no exception. It was raucous and everyone there was divinely trashed on every kind of drug imaginable, and the alcohol was flowing everywhere as well. It was a party for some girlfriend of Veruca's who had just broken up with her boyfriend of 5 years. The party was in honor of her new singletude. Hans Porter was there after all. He called Kimberlyn a "Dahlink leetle girl." Kimberlyn supposed he called her a little girl in comparison to the Amazons that were at the party, she being one of three petite models in the crush of super-tall beauty queens getting their drink on that night. Neither Lolita nor Kimberlyn mentioned the passing out, the waking up in someone's bed, or the note from Mitch. Once Lolita was done eating, and Kimberlyn was only halfway through her Danish, she asked her, "Kimby, how come you have to go through a lobby to get to your apartment?" She drank a little of her latte.

Kimberlyn pinched off a bit of her Danish, a portion small enough for an ant. "This place used to be a hotel, and they made into apartments." She put it in her mouth and drank a sip from her latte as well. She thought she could feel herself beginning to bloat up from the amount of calories she was consuming. It felt so good to eat again, but she felt so bad at the same time, scared to death of getting fat.

"Oh. So do you think Porter liked you?" She finished her latte and got up and threw it away.

"I don't remember what happened except for him calling me a little girl, so I'm not sure. Maybe he did… with the whole Darling thing." She continued to pick at her Danish and sip delicately at her latte.

"Hm… well… do you think now might be a good time to read Mitch's note? I mean it's nearly lunch time." Mitch always came back from the studio at lunch, and then he ate with Kimberlyn and went back to work.

"… I really don't want to, but I guess I better. I should probably be out before he gets back. I know it's a goodbye letter… I just don't want to read it. Mitch… I love Mitch… What am I gonna do Lo?" She looked down at the Danish on the plate and shoved it away from her. She still couldn't cry.

Suddenly stern Lolita said, "I don't think you can do anything at this point. You just need to get on your feet and try to get better, and then make things right with Mitch later. You know why he's dumping you don't you? You can't live like this Kimberlyn. You can't, it's killing us, and it's killing you." Lolita went into the living room and picked up the note, and laid it on the table. "Read it Kimberlyn. I'm gonna go get your stuff." She walked out of the kitchen, and left Kimberlyn alone to face her worst nightmare coming to life.

Kimberlyn had never gotten a goodbye letter before. Trembling, she reached across the table. She breathed in deeply and held it. She opened the note and began to read.


I'm writing you this note to tell you that our relationship is over. I would have told you in person, but I didn't want to watch you stumble in the front door drunk again. I didn't want to watch you cry. I can't be with you anymore, you have become someone I don't know or understand. I loved you more than anything when I met you, I do not love this woman you've become. You get high nearly every day, and you drink like crazy. You got to parties and come home a mess, I have no idea what goes on at these parties you've been to, or what you do, and I can't trust you anymore. I can't be with someone like that. You have stopped eating; I know you have a problem with that. I think you have an eating disorder. I can't be with someone who doesn't respect their own body. You don't care about me anymore either, all you care about is your modeling, and coke. I have put up with this enough, I have tried to help you, and I have done everything I can. You won't listen to me. So it's over.

Personally I think you need to check yourself into a rehab facility. You are heading down a dangerous path that I've seen far to many people go down and never return. I don't want you to be one of those people Kimby. You don't have to. I loved that girl you used to be, and I wish I could have her back, but I think she's gone for good, and that's why we can't be together.

I need you to pack your stuff and not be at the apartment when I get there tonight. I'm not coming by for lunch; I'll eat someplace else. I'm sure Lo will let you stay over at her place for a while. I know you probably can't get all your stuff in one day, so I'll give you a few days to get everything moved out. Just make sure you come during times you know I'll be working. I can't see you right now. When you are done leave your key here.

Goodbye Kimby.


When Lolita heard the crashes she ran into the kitchen. Kimberlyn had picked up the plate with the Danish and hurled it at the fridge. The latte was spilled across the floor, and she'd somehow turned the table on its side. Kimberlyn was clutching the note in a fetal position on the floor, sobbing and shaking. Lolita had never seen Kimberlyn like this, not in ten years of knowing her, had she ever thrown a plate, or made any kind of mess on purpose, much less dissolved into tears in the middle of a floor. She'd always been so composed before. Lolita picked up the table and put it right. She cleaned up the latte and Danish mess. All the while Kimberlyn was still crying. Lolita was a little afraid to try and get her to stop, and she figured it might just be best to leave her alone and grieve. Kimberlyn liked to be alone when she cried. Lolita went back into the bedroom, and continued to get Kimberlyn's things together. She packed a suitcase with some outfits and toiletries, some makeup and Kimberlyn's pillow. She grabbed Kimberlyn's purse and coat and put them all in the doorway to the apartment. Then she filled another, smaller suitcase with some more clothes and some shoes and put that in the doorway too. Kimberlyn got gotten quiet, and she'd pulled herself up and was sitting with her back against the kitchen cabinets and was still crying and shaking with the note crumpled in her hand.

Lolita sat on the couch and called Rick. Lolita told him to get a cab and come over to the apartment to help her collect Kimberlyn and her things. She told him how emotional Kimberlyn was, and that he might have to be there to help. After that she went back into the bedroom and put together something for Kimberlyn to wear besides pajamas. She selected a pair of Lucky Brand jeans, and a pink and blue kimono style top and some pink ballet flats for her to wear. She grabbed a bra and pair of undies and brought the pile to Kimberlyn, who had stopped crying and was staring blankly into space, note still in her hand. She sat the clothes in Kimberlyn's lap. "Here, put this on. I got your stuff together. Rick is on his way with a cab." Kimberlyn didn't say a word. She just stood up and began dressing quietly. When she was finished she looked at the note again, and wadded it into a ball and tossed it on the floor. She didn't care about being clean anymore. Lolita led Kimberlyn into the living room, and she sat her on the couch. Kimberlyn plopped down and swayed a bit, and then lay down on it to wait until Rick came with the cab. Lolita sat in a chair across from her, and shook her head in disbelief. "This is so unreal…" she thought. "What has happened to my best friend?"