Zen Queen

by Kirsty McManus

  “Homelessness.” The newsreader adopts an appropriately serious expression out the front of City Hall with her microphone.

  “Many can no longer afford the rising cost of living. The price of rent, petrol and groceries have all gone up dramatically in recent years, and this is forcing people to live in their cars or sleep on the streets.”

  Poor homeless people. After today, I feel like I can relate to their situation, at least on a superficial level. All that pity would wear me down after a while. And obviously, it would be tough to get a good night’s sleep if you didn’t have a proper bed. I know what I’m like after a night on Alex’s couch. Unless I’m drunk, and then I can crash anywhere.

  The newsreader continues to talk while the screen displays a montage of the homeless roaming the streets downtown. There’s a lady with a shopping trolley piled high with plastic bags and cans…a man with a beanie pulled down over his scraggly grey hair feeding pigeons in the park…and…me.

  No! It can’t be!

  There I am, looking bewildered as the old lady pats me on the shoulder and forces her change on me. For heaven’s sake.

  “Many of these people are desperate to integrate into society,” the newsreader continues. “But without a place to stay, they no longer have access to the bathing and laundry facilities we take for granted.” They zoom in on my stained t-shirt. Really? They can’t tell the difference between gravy stains and expensive hair dye?

  This cannot be happening. It has to be some sort of joke. I desperately pray that all my friends are still at work or stuck in the afternoon traffic.

  My home phone and mobile ring simultaneously. Crap.

  TWO

  The only person I allow into my apartment that afternoon is Alex. I’m too upset to see anyone else.

  When I let him in, I know he can’t decide whether to hug me or laugh. I almost burst into tears.

  He kisses my cheek. “Sweetie, I’m so sorry. I don’t know how something like this could have happened.”

  “That hairdresser was terrible,” I say mournfully. “And she did a hideous job on my hair.”

  “Cindy is an award-winning stylist,” he explains. “But I guess I should have told her to go easy on you.” He cocks his head to one side. “I have to say though Jess, you’re rocking it now.”

  “I know.” I smile at him smugly, conveniently leaving out the fact that a taxi driver was responsible for my transformation. “Cindy obviously needs a few tips on maximising the effect of her haircuts.”

  “Yes, well let’s put this rather unfortunate incident behind us. How about I take you out for dinner?”

  “No!” I screech. “I’m never going out again!”

  “Don’t be silly. No one watches the afternoon news.”

  “I beg to differ. Do you know I’ve had thirteen missed calls in the past hour? I’ve had to stop answering the phone. And I got a text from Sam saying I’m already on YouTube.”

  “You’re kidding.”

  “No, I’m not. I don’t think I can even go into work tomorrow.”

  “Well, hopefully it will all blow over soon. When everyone sees you in the fashion parade…”

  I cut him off. “Alex, I can’t do the show now. I’m too embarrassed.”

  Alex looks dismayed. “But Jess…”

  “No. Please don’t make me. The last thing I need right now is people pointing at me on the catwalk and laughing at how crap I look.”

  “But you won’t look crap! I’ll make sure you look perfect! And it’s too late to get someone else. It’s tomorrow night!”

  “I’m sorry. I can’t.”

  He sighs resignedly. “Fine. We’ll talk about it later. At least come down to the pub for a beer then. It’s so dark, no one will be able to see you.”

  I consider it for a few seconds. “Okay.” I can’t stay mad at Alex forever. After all, he is my best friend. And he will suffer enough if I don’t do the fashion show.

  I change into some jeans and a peasant top, and quickly apply some mascara to my lashes. After a quick glance in the mirror I’m convinced no one will be able to make the connection between the destitute tramp of earlier and the stylish go-getter I’ve now become.

  We trudge down to the pub. In a way, I’m kind of glad Alex talked me into going out tonight. If I had stayed in, there’s a chance I might have turned into an agoraphobic. The best thing to do is get back on the horse…take the bull by the horns…or whatever it is people say in times of crisis.

  Alex is right. It’s not the end of the world. Not everyone watches the news. I’m sure it’s just one of those situations where the social grapevine got a bit out of control. I doubt most of my friends even saw the footage. But I will have to have a word with Sam about whether he had anything to do with putting that YouTube clip online.

  ***

  We enter the smoky haze of the pub. I don’t know how they manage to get around the no-smoking laws here. Alex and I only frequent the place because it’s conveniently located between our two apartments, but it’s a bit gross, really.

  He leads me to a corner booth. I’m about to point out that it’s already occupied when my heart sinks. The gang is here.

  “Alex, what did you do?” I hiss.

  “I thought you might need the moral support,” he replies soothingly. “I’ve made everyone promise to be extra nice and buy you drinks all night.”

  “Great,” I say miserably. I reluctantly slide into the corner of the booth. Alex sits opposite. Squished in around the table are Michael, Holly, Sam and Paul.

  Michael is Alex’s partner. I’m actually kind of surprised he showed up. Michael thinks I secretly lust after Alex. I really don’t know where he got that from. Admittedly, I might have fancied him for a few hours when we first met, but as soon as he mentioned he was gay I totally switched off.

  Okay, maybe it took a few days. But he’s a good-looking man. Any girl would have been the same.

  Holly and Sam have been together since high school and got married when they were nineteen. Holly and I were friends first, and to be honest, I don’t really like Sam, but I put up with him for Holly’s sake.

  And then there’s Paul. We’re friends with benefits, but I’ve gone off him a bit lately. Not that he’s figured it out yet. He’s insanely attractive, and usually quite good in bed—but last time we were together he was quite drunk and promised that if I gave him a blow job, he would reciprocate. So after I, erm, did my duty, I was all ready for my turn—and then he fell asleep. I’ve been too afraid to mention it because I don’t want him thinking I’m demanding. But a woman has needs.

  Tonight, I can already see the cogs working in his brain. He probably thinks I’ll be an easy target later because my ego is all bruised. But as soon as we get a chance to talk privately, I think I’m going to tell him it’s over. I just can’t be bothered anymore.

  I’m also starting to feel a bit cheap. I would like to be taken on a date for a change and be treated respectfully, not just called up at 9pm on a Tuesday night for a booty call.

  Everyone at the table smiles tentatively—like they expect me to break down at any second.

  “Quit it! Let’s just forget that this whole thing happened, okay? Tomorrow there will be a huge fatal car crash or a cyclone or something and everyone will have moved on from this ridiculous story.”

  “You’re right,” Holly says with twinkling eyes. “How about I get you a drink? Only I’m not sure they will sell you a whole cask of wine. That’s your style now, isn’t it?”

  “Oh ha-ha. You know, not all homeless people are alcoholics.” I feel like I have a duty to defend them, now I’ve had a small taste of what they have to put up with.

  “That’s right.” Sam pretends to be mad on my behalf. “How about a martini?”

  “That sounds nice.” I smile at him gratefully. It’s unusual for him to be so kind.

  “You know,” he muses, “I always thought they tasted a bit like methylated spirits.” He then falls about in hyste
rics. The others join in.

  “Come on guys! Give me a break. You’re supposed to be my friends.” I stand up abruptly. “Forget it, I’ll get my own drink.”

  I stomp over to the bar before anyone can protest. This was a terrible idea. I should have stayed home and gone to bed early.

  I signal to the bartender, but he’s serving someone else. I wait patiently. At least it’s a break from the teasing. I’m really not up for this right now.

  “Hey, don’t I know you?”

  A scary looking bald guy is staring at me.

  “Ah, no. I don’t think so.”

  “I swear I’ve seen you before. Aren’t you an actress or something?”

  “No, sorry.” I wish the bartender would hurry up.

  “Were you on Neighbours?”

  “No.”

  “Home and Away?”

  “No.” I turn away apologetically, hoping he’ll get the message.

  “Hey, there’s no need to be a snob.”

  I try to be reasonable. “Look, I’m sorry, it’s just I’ve had a really rough day and all I want to do is enjoy a quiet drink with my friends.”

  “Oh, so you’re too good to talk to us common folk, are you? Did the TV producer yell at you or something?”

  “Honey, is everything okay?”

  I turn, thankful for being rescued. I stop for a second, surprised, but quickly recover.

  “Yeah, thanks babe.” I slide in under my saviour’s arm.

  “This your boyfriend?” Tough guy eyes him off.

  “Yes, I am,” he replies firmly. “Now, do you mind?”

  My assailant huffs and goes off to tell his mates about his imaginary brush with fame. I wonder if he’s telling them how all famous people are snobs.

  I look up at my rescuer and breathe a sigh of relief. “Thank you so much.”

  “No worries.” He grins. “I’m Luke, by the way.”

  “Jess.”

  I notice Luke hasn’t stepped away. His arm is still wrapped around me.

  “Uh…” I gently pull away.

  “Oh, right. Sorry.” He steps back, abashed. “So what was that all about?”

  “I don’t know. He thought I was an actress or something.”

  He studies me intently for a moment. “I can see why he would think that.”

  I blush. “It’s probably more because he saw me as a homeless person on the news this afternoon and got confused.”

  Luke looks puzzled. “Why would he think you’re a homeless person? You don’t seem like one to me.”

  “It’s a long story. Anyway, I should get back to my friends. They’re probably wondering where I am.”

  “Of course.” He smiles. He has cute dimples. And really nice chocolate brown eyes.

  The bartender finally sees me and pours me a vodka and orange.

  “Thanks again.” I wave to Luke as I head back to my table.

  “Bye.”

  I glance back and see that he’s watching me leave. He grins and then heads to the other side of the pub.

  ***

  “Where did you get to?” Alex asks. “Are you all right?”

  “I am now. But not before, when some guy was harassing me—practically assaulting me—and you didn’t even notice!”

  Alex raises a concerned eyebrow. “What happened?”

  “Does it matter? I had to rely on the help of a complete stranger, but I’m fine now.”

  “Was it that cute guy standing over there?” Holly points to Luke over at the pool table with his friends.

  “As a matter of fact, yes.”

  She laughs. “I thought so. You were never in any trouble. He was watching you the whole time. I could see he was into you, even from over here.”

  “Well, at least he was nice enough to help.”

  “Ooh. Jess has a new boyfriend!” she sings like a five-year-old.

  “You are so immature. I think I’m going to advertise for new friends.”

  “Oh, come on. Lighten up.”

  “Fine.” I down the rest of my drink in one gulp. “Your round.” Holly chuckles. “That’s my girl. I’ll be right back.”

  ***

  The rest of the evening passes in a bit of a blur. I’m vaguely aware of doing chartreuse shots at the bar with Alex and Sam. Then I think I see Luke leave and I feel a bit disappointed that he doesn’t come over to say goodbye.

  We all dance badly to Sweet Home Alabama when the house band starts to play, and then sing it incorrectly at the top of our lungs all the way home through the deserted suburban streets.

  I realise when I get home that I have somehow lost my keys. With nowhere else to go, I stumble all the way to Alex’s. He and Michael are almost asleep when I bang on their door, shouting for them to let me in.

  “Shh, Jess. You’ll wake the neighbours. You can sleep on the couch tonight—there are blankets in the hall cupboard. We’ll find your spare set of keys in the morning.”

  I crash around for a bit trying to make myself comfortable until I finally run out of steam. I plump up a cushion and black out almost as soon as my head touches down.

  THREE

  I have never had a hangover. I can drink like a fish all night and still wake up fresh the next day. My friends are quite envious. I’m sure my liver will catch up with me one day, but for now I’m making the most of it.

  I wake up on Friday morning feeling great. Somehow the alcohol has erased all embarrassment from yesterday. But I’m not really sure what to do about work, which is a graphic design position at Ace Advertising. I don’t have a change of clothes, and it’s too late to go home and get ready. Maybe I’ll just call in sick. I’ve been putting in a ton of overtime lately, so I can probably justify a day off.

  It’s 7:30am. I can hear Alex and Michael shuffling around upstairs. I even catch the end of a dry-heave in the toilet. Obviously one of the boys is suffering. I secretly hope it’s Michael. I’m not sure why he rubs me the wrong way. Maybe it’s a defence mechanism because I know he doesn’t like me. I guess if I’m really honest with myself, I’m jealous that he gets to spend more time with Alex than I do.

  Alex staggers down the stairs and nods in my direction. I jump up and run over to the coffee machine.

  “Here, let me sort you out. You just sit and relax.”

  “Thanks, sweetie. I don’t know how you can be so perky after all those shots last night, but if it means you’ll make me coffee, I’m not complaining.”

  I pour some beans into the grinder and switch it on. Alex winces, and I see Michael scowl at me from the landing.

  “Sorry,” I apologise and quickly turn it off. “So, do you have a big day today?” I try to appear attentive as I steam the milk.

  Alex looks at me disbelievingly. “Oh, I don’t know. Other than a huge day of promotion and a fashion show tonight, you mean?”

  “Oh, right.” I can’t believe I’ve forgotten all about Alex’s big day. I guess the chartreuse erased more than just my humiliation. “Are you going to be all right? You know, you probably shouldn’t have drunk so much last night if you were going to have a big day today.”

  Alex gives me a withering look. “You’re right. Why didn’t I think of that? I was only trying to console my friend who was afraid to leave the house because she somehow ended up on a news feature about the homeless.”

  I hastily shove a cup of coffee at him. “Yes, well, let’s change the subject, hey?”

  He takes a sip and calms down momentarily. “Mmm…you make great coffee. You should work as a barista.”

  “I thought about it, but I really don’t like those aprons they make you wear.”

  “I was kidding. But I’m sure it has its advantages. Like free drinks. And you’d get to check out all the cute guys that come in every day. You’d even be able to find out their names if you worked at Starbucks.”

  “Maybe you should get a job there. It sounds like you’ve given it a lot of thought. But hang on, don’t you own a shop? I would have thought your place
would be teeming with fit young men.”

  “I guess. But I’m usually stuck out the back all day doing paperwork, so I don’t get much of a chance to check out the customers.”

  I’m just about to suggest he install a one-way glass mirror in his office when my phone beeps. I’m one of those people that have to answer all calls and texts as soon as I receive them. It’s only polite.

  Just reminding you—meeting with Richardson today—V.

  “Oh no!”

  “What?”

  “I forgot about the meeting!”

  “What meeting?”

  “Our monthly team brief.”

  “So?”

  “So, I was going to call in sick today! Now I don’t know what to do.”

  “Can’t you skip it?”

  “No! Don Richardson is flying in from head office for this one. He only visits a couple of times a year and hands out really cool assignments. Last year he gave Andre an account in Paris and he got to live there for six weeks! The guys at his office took him out clubbing every night and the whole thing sounded amazing. Plus he got promoted to a senior position when he got back.”

  “So, go to your meeting, then.”

  “But I don’t have time to go home and get ready now!”

  “You can shower here. Go on. You can ride in with us if you’re at the car in fifteen minutes.”

  I jump up and race to the stairs. “Okay. I’ll be back in a flash.”

  ***

  I scrub last night’s pub smell off me and rinse my hair. I don’t remember how I’m supposed to style it, and I’m running out of time, so I grab some of Michael’s hair wax and smooth it over the damp ends. I can’t believe I forgot about today of all days! I can almost forgive myself for forgetting about Alex’s big day, but not my own. I need to make a good impression with Don, because I heard rumours they might have an overseas position for someone in my department. I really need to be on my game today.

  I find one of Alex’s button-up shirts and change into that. I’ll have to wear last night’s skirt, but I have a chunky silver belt that I can use to secure the shirt high on my waist. Fashion is fairly important at my office. We are an advertising firm, so all the execs wear suits, but the creatives are expected to be a bit more on trend. I’m pretty clueless at figuring out what to wear so I cheat and get a personal shopper every six months. She buys me a whole bunch of basics and shows me how to accessorise everything properly, but I’m still not sure if I get it right most days.