two men with my name

The bruise first. I keep seeing it. Hip, purple already by the time I got home. I stood in the bathroom with my shirt up and took three photos because the first one wasn't in focus and the second one had the toilet in it. Imani apologized twice. Marcus did not look at me once after. He was at the closet like I was a coat rack he had to get past. I have been a coat rack for a living. I know the posture. ~~I did not bill today~~. Imani tipped me in cash and I took it and I left.

Then the rent math. $2,400. One client. Thursday. My entire month's rent in a single closet visit. I sat on the couch and ran the numbers three different ways and they all came up the same: I can say yes, I should say yes, my lease says yes. But. He knows Robin's name. He knows my shoes. I want to write here that I won't go. I want to write here that I deleted the number. I screenshotted the text instead and put it next to the Day 2 DM I never answered and I just looked at the two of them for a while. Two men with my name on them. One with money in his mouth.

Yael's husband. The black bag. He knows the bag. He saw me getting into something on Nostrand. ~~Getting into what.~~ I flagged the message. I do not know what flagging a message does. I pressed it anyway because pressing something felt better than reading it again.

I called Robin. I told her about the Tribeca text because she had to know. I did not tell her about Marcus. I did not tell her about Yael's husband. I gave her one horror so she wouldn't worry about three. I am a stylist. I know how to put one thing on and take the other off.