How I know Celeste?
I was her makeup artist,
she —
how you say —
got me fired.
I have two more runway models to finish
and this American model put her —
eh —
mascara tears over my work.
“What the Hell is your problem?” I yell.
“My prom is today.”
She look down at python jacket.
I see the purple and yellow corsage
tucked away under the sleeve.
“My mom says Paris is more important.”
I grab this girl who cry a lot,
and take her for milkshake.
We be fired,
but be friends ever since.
