SWEEP SWEEP

"I know you're awake, honey." Ashley flinched.

"No need to worry, drink this." She felt the sofa sink as she lifted her arm up. Sadly, she couldn't prevent the damage inflicted by the light bulb that swung along with the fan. It always puzzled her how it was still possible that it could keep happening.

"It's ORS. How are you feeling after vomiting for three hours straight?" Ashley's eyes were still recovering from the colourful Aurora Borealis in her eye. Even then, she knew who was sitting next to her.

"Would you mind if you turned off the light?" She barely spoke, but the familiar stranger understood her hand gestures.

"Sure, sweetie! A terrible birthday, huh?" After a click, she turned to reveal her fit for today.

She wasn't your typical grandma. Not only that, but she's also a major trendsetter, fashion icon of Umbridge. In honour of Ashley's birthday, she wore a -

"What? I am dressed up as you?" The thick Transatlantic accent echoed towards her, bringing her mind back to the matter of the utmost importance.

" I'm not a goth." She scrutinized what looked to be the biggest pushed up bun with maximum volume she had ever seen.

Except for Tiffany Davis. The owner of 'Beauties Hair Salon'.

For sure, Ashley made a terrible mistake of seeping the drink when Tiffy opened her floor-touching coat.

In her outfit, she wore a white leopard skin leotard that extended to the black short pants covering her hips. Furthermore, she wore fishnets over her legs, with shiny yet spiky leg bracelets adorned around her thighs. Her face was a work of art that should have been on the front cover of 'Vogut'. What made the look stand out was how the sharpness of her eyeliner matched her mouth. With each provocative stroke, she left a trail of diverse gemstones, ranging from edge cut sapphires to glittery rainbow stones. As usual, the queen always starts the day by eating a misogynist for breakfast with her dark red-cherry lip gloss. A single patch of skin was not left bare. Each had their own rings, bracelets with many tiny skulls of different sizes swinging while the owner twirled for Ashley to see the one of a kind view. Finally, she finished the look with a raven black fur coat with spikes on both shoulder pads.

"OF COURSE YOU'RE NOT GOTH! YOU'RE DEPRESSED! JUST LET A GAL TAKE ONE LOOK AT YOU AND SEE HER WORK, MAKE FUN OF YOU!" Tiffy's laughter roared, making Ashley jump.

"So that is?" Unamused, Ashley settled the mug down on the coffee table in front of her.

"NAKED! CAUSE YOU DON'T HAVE A FASHION SENSE-LIKE IOTA. GET IT?" As she sat down beside Ashley, she elbowed her to the side.

After her laughter died, Tiffy spoke first.

"With all that joke aside, I am really worried about you."

"Tell me about it."

"You don't have to take care of Dan's business, it's his. Let him take care of it."

"You know?"

"I saw. That boy was a wrecked typhoon with a hair perm on a hair blower!"

"Hmm..."

"It was supposed to make you laugh. Cheer up a bit, would ya?"

"Depends."

"Well, then... Back in the 90s, I used to do crack when I was your age."

Ashley nodded slowly while thinking about how this was relevant to her situation.

"My boyfriend at the time got me into it. 'For the hype' he would say. Only to realize later that he had made plans to commit suicide."

Ashley kept quiet.

"After an autopsy was conducted on his body, we found lots of stuff. Not only had he been doing crack, he had smoked weed to the point that it led to...his death. I saw his naked body before the funeral. That idiot...he used to get inked every month. I wasn't surprised to see any brand-new tats, but... I was more surprised to see what the tats were." She paused, looking at the flowery wallpaper with cats' paw prints, she continued.

"Go... live your life, Taffy." She quoted, while removing her coat.

"Be the diva you always wanted to be." She pointed to her forearm.

"In the end, he knew he was pulling me into his mess. As a result, he let go of me in the most awful way possible. I helped him obtain funding for rehab. I tried words, love, letters, songs...everything, and yet he chose death over me." She slowly pulled back her coat.

The sound of the fans filled the room while Ashley looked around. In front of them, the fireplace was covered in ashes while on the top, a portrait of Tiffy and her staff of 10 years was hung. Along with a few newspaper snippets, it was followed by some plastic models of hairstyle tools in miniature forms. The table had sacks of paper lying near its legs, behind a multicoloured glass window. Coloured sun rays fell onto the desktop screen reflecting its blue light on the nearby messy desk. The ceiling, however, was close enough to collapse. The sky painting was clearly fainting and each crack was more dominant than the other. It felt like the sky would fall on them.

"How could he do that to you?" Ashley finally broke the ice.

"He did it...because I reminded him...of his old self. I used to split my wrist every morning because... I missed my perverted teachers, who wouldn't stop drooling over my chest. Likewise, I missed my parents too. They used to love me by smashing beer bottles over my head. I was pathetic to him. I... I...placed all my insecurities on him." Frustration and uncomfortableness creeped in before Ashley dropped a bomb on her.

"Is that how you feel about his death?" Ashley boldly asked her.

"Young lady, be mindful of your mouth." Tiffy scolded her.

She looked away and remained silent afterward.

Ashley carelessly continued, "It wasn't your fault. You just didn't know how to console him that way. You were in a different boat on another ocean. I guess? While he was in the Pacific, you were in the Atlantic. Both of your problems were as significant as the other. It's just that one was...saltier than the other."

She waited...waited...waited.... before apologizing for her absurd and rude question.

"Look who's talking." She finally met eyes with Ashley, pulling her deeper into the hug.

Accepting her foolishness and consideration.

"I should have given ya a warning." She scowled at herself.

"You should have." Ashley agreed, which gained her an eye roll.

"So, how did you guys meet?" Ashley asked, directing her away from the topic.

"We both were runaway high schoolers with the same background. It's no wonder why we fell in love with our own imperfections." She pushed Ashley's hair back.

"Huh, I didn't know dead men could tell the best tales." She remarked.

Tiffy smiled at the poor janitor in her arms.

"Look...... I know it's difficult for you to do it, but.... He may have a lot on his plate, but so do you. Please put yourself first...before prioritizing others. You gotta take care of your plate first, then let others share theirs with yours."

Ashley remained silent. She urged her to continue.

"It might not be easy, but you shouldn't speak to him for a while. That man needs some time to reflect on why he did it... No need to be harsh on yourself. Give yourself a break. Think about it, okay? Tell me later. Got it? Gotta make some room for the new tenant." She winked at Ashley, who smiled in return.

"You know, you could take a day off," Tiffy suggested.

"Stanley?" Ashley inquired.

"He doesn't know. We could cover for you while you sort yourself." She calmly cleared her doubts. Except for one.

"I guess...but what about the mo-" Ashley got cut off by surprising news.

"You got a promotion. Cherry came today to deliver you the letter with the big fat letters 'P-R-O-M-O-T-I-' "Thrilled Tiffy clamped her hands together, gleeing at the happy girl.

"OKAY! I GET IT! NOW, WHERE IS IT?" Thrilled as excitement boosted her system.

"In the lounge, along with your other gifts." She winked at the startled birthday girl.

Ashley abruptly got up before muttering thanks to her.

Tiffany chuckled while getting up from the soft leather sofa. Taking a step towards the adjacent table, she rebooted the desktop that sat there with an open window where emails were piling up.

"I hope today is the happy birthday you wished for..." Tiffany read the contents while grabbing a napkin from her pocket.

"Can't get my makeup ruined, but..." She contemplated whether to play along with the plan to keep the birthday girl happy, or make her face the icy promise that got broken. Regardless of the choice, she will hear about it one way or another.

In addition to spewing curses here and there, she lit a cigar after opening the window. A puff of smoke sent her eyes widening at the sight below her salon's threshold, making her believe that fate would do anything to ruin a 15-year-old's birthday.