Kaede opened her eyes; it's was Sunday at last. Situated in a touristic area, Da Stuff rotated seven days a week.

For Kaede, Sunday was her first day off, followed by any other day of the week. She never got two days' weekend, and it did not bother her the slightest. Weekends were for those who had people to see or a lover to please. The woman was friends free, and as far as relationship went, the weekend getaway remained a far off mirage.

So what did a single black woman have to do Sunday, which did not consist of vegging out in front of Netflix?

Kaede did not know, and every Sunday came with the same interrogation. When Joseph first hired her, Kaede would stop by the store and work while saying I'm not here carry on. For this too, Joseph had to take extraordinary measures to prohibit the woman from the store's premises.

How to be in the world and disconnected at the same time, ask Kaede.

Kaede called the Sephora at St Germain. It was open on Sunday, and it was the only one with a beauty institute.

Yes, she was single, but Kaede liked to keep up with her beauty routine. It was one of the things that prevented her from sinking further during her burnout.

"Hi, I wondered if it was possible to have an appointment today with Dima for legs and armpits waxing? ㅡGreat, yes, miss Missoni Laurence. ㅡAt 12:30, ok, I'll be there."

Kaede hurried, she showered and did not put on any cream not wanting to prevent the hairs removal.

She put on her Pleasures sweatpants and hoodie set. It was men's, but Kaede did not care, she did two twin cornrow twist to her hair and left.

It was only 10:30, and Kaede got the call, which pushed her to go somewhere holy, so she found herself in front of Saint Rose. It was a small church at Pigalle not far from the Moulin Rouge. Most people missed the chapel, which was between two sex shops.

Kaede liked this chapel, and somehow she felt God's presence in this place surrounded by sin. She did not plan to stay long. Kaede bought four candles for each of her parents she lost and went to light them. As usual, she was alone; the next service was at 11:30 AM. Kaede knelt and closed her eyes, "hi, how have you been doing? I know it's been a while. I'm a bad child," Kaede sighed; she never knew what to say. She felt blessed; still, something in her existence was missing.

In the meantime, she woke up the clubber who fell asleep on the bench as soon when the first service began. The man's head pounded, he looked about in the dimly light space and got up he approached the vestibule close to the entrance where Kaede was.

The woman searched her words, unable to ask for what she wanted, not by pride but shame. She hated the idea of wanting and needing, especially that thing. She sighed, "ㅡGod, can you send me a man? I know it's ridiculous, but like I'm not a mean person. I won't be picky, but please let him have beautiful teeth, and be tall, am thick, andㅡ, "Kaede stopped.

Kaede said she would not be complicated, but here she was with her bucket list, "I'm sorry, I know I said I'd keep it simple, but I just want the right one. The one you made for me if you had someone planned because I feel soㅡ," She got up, the embarrassment to admit she felt alone took over.

Someone was there as if things could not get more awkward. Kaede pulled on her hood, lowered her head and advanced using her hand as a vizor not meet the person's gaze," excuse me," she said as the person appeared to want to pass her.

It was only a split second; all the person saw of her face were her lips and the most prominent beauty marks of the three she had on her risen hand. Kaede left the chapel.

The man went and knelt, " hi, I wasn't supposed to be here, but I am. I am a sinner, and I imagine it's why I'm in dire straits right now. I probably don't deserve anything, but,ㅡ" he turned and looked in the direction Kaede went, "ㅡeh, can I have a woman just like the one who left."

He did not know what came over him; he was there to run away from the cold. And he had more urgent matters to tend to, love was at the bottom of his list, but somehow he imagined that a woman who asked God for a man instead of Tinder or AdoptAGuy was worth having.

To ensure the message got through, he brought six candles. A little bribe never did any harm.

The journey in the metro line 4 to Saint Germain shook off the Kaede's awkwardness. She wondered what the person heard, before dusting the thought of her shoulder, it did not matter. It was not like the person would post her photo on some Twitter with the caption:

THIS WOMAN ASKED GOD FOR A MAN.

++

The sliding doors of Sephora opened, engulfing Kaede's thoughts in the sweets scents of perfume.

"Hey, Kaede."

"Hi, Dima."

Dima was Kaede beautician for the last two years. The woman knew all of Kaede's facets; she also followed all her lives episodes:

Kaede, the consultant

Kaede in love

Kaede the burnout

Kaede and heartbreak

Kaede the rebirth

and finally

Kaede the girl with the empty heart

"So, how have you been?"

Kaede gave a weak smile, "so so."

Dima cocked an eyebrow, "I'll let you get ready, I'll be back in a sec so that you can tell me all about your so-so."

Alone Kaede undressed and laid on the bed.

Dima came back, Kaede watched her prepare the strips and heat the wax. Kaede, too, knew Dima well. British born Dima Lorel was a makeup artist who dreamt of becoming an actress, but her physique did not suit the French cinema taste.

Jamaican by her mother and french by her father, who also gave Dima her carrot color hair and freckles, the girl knew who she was, but it seemed that society and the cinema industry did not know which box to place her.

The two women understood each other's struggles, and so they supported and advised one another during these waxing sessions.

"Ready?"

Kaede nodded.

"Can you put your arms behind your head? Now tell me."

Kaede did as asked, and Dima applied the wax on her armpits.

"It isn't working with Marco, I mean it's too complicated to work with my Ex. I swear I'm suffocating, and it's affecting the whole organization because I can't control my temper. The whole team thinks I'm some crazy-ass despot."

Dima laughed, "oh, Kaede, I doubt they see you that way."

"Ouch," Kaede winched, Dima pulled on the wax directly as this type did not need strips," the whole team is on his side. He has seduced all of them like a snake charmer. Sometimes I want to quit; I swear to see him every day is killing me. Worse is he is still as sexy as hell."

"Kaede, remember what we said. Da Stuff hired you first. If one of you has to go, it's him. Don't let him push you over."

Dima pulled another bit of wax that had Kaede grit her teeth.

"Every time I see him, I remember how much I loved him, it hurts so bad."

Dima patted her on one shoulder to sympathize but also to tell Kaede she finished her armpits.

"I know, I understand. But please, Kaede, hang in there."

Kaede sighed; it was an endeavor to apply what Dima suggested, "how about you? How are you these days, are you still auditions?"

"I am going back to London."

"No way," Kaede gasped, "sorry, I'm just thinking about my legs and the other intimate parts that I'll have to present to another beautician."

"I'm not leaving right now. I'm looking for an apartment there."

Kaede began to calculate, "London's expensive."

"Exactly, but I feel I'll have more opportunities there. They seem less focused on perfection. And it's not like I have someone here."

Kaede smiled, "I hope you are right. You deserve a chance."

As her client, Dima, too, was part of the lonely hearts club, but not for the same reasons. Dima had not even got the opportunity to discover heartbreak. In a room full of women, she would always be the last choice. She was an unconventional beauty waiting for someone to notice her. Makeup helped; men were interested one day, and the next they ran when confronted with the reality of her traits.

"Do you know what I prayed for today?"

Kaede shook her head, "let me guess, a role."

Dima pulled a strip, "no, Kaede, I prayed for a man."

Kaede muffled a giggle feeling reassured not to be the only woman in the French capital, praying for love.

"I know it's pitiful, but I'm just so tired of being alone."

Kaede nodded in approval, "I hear you, right now, I could accept anybody except Marco and Marco type of men."

"And that's?"

"Well, you know the type that can get them all. Instagram Fucker boy, fitness freak, who thinks Stendhal means stool in German."

Dima patted her on the leg and chuckled, "good luck."

Kaede sighed, wondering if there was a good man out there, but also she hoped to have the discernment to recognize him.