Poker Face

It's amazing how one experience with one person can changer your future.
It's amazing how you can go from most unpopular to famous.
It's amazing how simple things can stay in your memories forever.

Remember that every action has a consequence.

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2. Chapter 2

Its my tear soaked pillow that wakes me.
Not my alarm. The events of the unusually late game come back to me. That's when I realise my jaw hurts. I touch it lightly and suck in a breath at the unexpected pain.

I drag myself out of bed and across to the bathroom. I peer into the slightly-too-high mirror and see a big purple bruise along my jaw line. I can't go to work looking like this.

I spend the next two hours putting on layers and layers of make up. I make my eyeliner extra dark and my blush slightly brighter. Finally, I wear my hair loose over one shoulder, the volume adding a little more cover. I have to admit, I still look good. 
I've been called arrogant many times before. All by judgemental pricks who don't know the first thing about my past. To be fair, I did a great job of keeping it secret.

I walk through the cafè doors twenty minutes late to see my boss stood with her hands on her hips. She's far from happy...

"Why the hell are you so late?" She hisses at me and her brows knit together at her fury. "You know this is our busiest day. I am sick to death of this. What else could you possibly have to do with your life? I don't know why I ever hired you..."
My thoughts drift and her voice becomes background noise. Then I hear the two words every employee dreads and snap back to attention.
"Yeah, that's right. I'm done with you. Now, get out of here and make sure I never see your face again!"
I sense the danger of a serious bitch slap and nearly trip in a rush to get out of there.

An hour later, I'm sat in the park eating lunch and watching all the ordinary people around me. I notice how relaxed they look and how their emotions are written all over their faces. I can't remember the last time I let anyone see my true feelings.
Well...that's a lie. I do remember. And sometimes I wish I didn't.

Suddenly, my instincts kick in again and I spin towards a tree on my right. All I see are some kids rolling round on the grass. I shrug it off and stand, brushing the crumbs from my jeans. I shove the rubbish in a bin and leave the park.

It only takes ten minutes to walk to the apartment and I'm grateful for the quiet of mid-afternoon. 
Then I hear a car behind me. When I turn around there's a black Audi parked with the rear end facing me. I don't recognise it but I figure they're here for the young couple upstairs. They always have random visitors. I hurry inside to avoid conversation. I hate meeting new people; always have.

When I get in, I strip and turn on the much needed shower. I grab a few essentials and a towel before hopping in. I wash off the mountain of make up and revel in the hot water. The power stings my shoulders and, when I switch it off, my skin is red raw. I scrub my hair with the towel then brush it.
Dry. Brush. Dry. Brush.
When I'm satisfied, I slip the towel under my arms and tuck in the end.

I decide to change my style of clothing again. It keeps players trying to guess my secrets.  Some go to surprisingly great lengths to get things out of me. It never works. I wear a short grey skirt and matching lacy crop top with no straps. I put on a black leather jacket with knee high wedges. 
I put a few hundred pounds in a bag and head out to my land rover.

When I start the engine, the Audi I saw earlier does the same. If this is another player stalking me, he's doing a terrible job of it. I write down the number plate just in case he tries something and ignore him on the way to the casino.

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