Save Me. (Matthew Espinosa)

Chapter 21 - A Little Too Much

Lacey's POV

"Put this on."

Mahogany throws a pile of clothes at me, followed by a pair of boots that I manage to dodge just in time. I don't question her, grabbing everything and walking into the bathroom to change. I find myself wearing black, cotton pantyhose, a black, high-waisted skater skirt, a maroon colored, crop-top sweater, topped off with a pair of dark tan, leather ankle boots. I step out of the bathroom, twirling around for Mahogany to assess my outfit and I receive a cat-call from her, making me laugh.

"Now for the finishing touches," she murmurs, clapping her hands excitedly. She grabs my upper arms and guides me back into the bathroom, seating me on the closed toilet lid. She turns around and plugs in her curling iron- I don't fully understand why she possesses the styling item, what with her naturally curly locks- turning it on to let it heat up. She exits the bathroom and soon returns with a small, floral bag in her hands.

"I don't want to go to crazy with the makeup, but I want to use enough to make you look hot." She slyly smirks at me, winking. We have remotely the same skin tone so she begins with dabbing my face with her fine foundation, using a big, fluffy brush. She twists the lid back onto the small container and reaches back into her bag, pulling out a very light red color of blush. She uses another brush to lightly highlight my cheeks with the makeup. Smiling at her work, Mahogany uses a natural colored powder- slightly darker than the foundation on my face- to apply to my eyes as eye shadow. She pulls out some liquid eyeliner, instructing me to close my eyes before carrying on with creating a thin black line just along my lash line on my upper eyelids, forming wings at the ends, like she does on herself. My eyelashes are then curled and coated with a thin coat of mascara, her eyes squinting in concentration.

She closes the eyeliner before putting it back in her makeup bag and standing back to look at my face. She smiles contently. "One more thing," Mahogany mumbles, digging through the bag again. A luscious, deep, red lipstick is pulled out and she spreads it onto my lips carefully. She hands me a small, portable mirror so I can have a look. I gasp. I don't even look the same. I look like a barbie, my flaws undetectable beneath the makeup, features defined. Maybe it's a little too much.

"I know what you're thinking," she begins, "but trust me, they definitely won't be able to keep their eyes off of you now- and we haven't even done your hair yet!" She assures me and I try to keep an open mind. A brush is ran through my hair until no tangles remain. Grabbing the curling iron, Mahogany begins to curl my hair into loose curls.

Once finished, I stand up and walk out of the bathroom, walking up to a full sized body mirror. I'm in awe as I look in the mirror. I twirl around again, feeling confident about my new look. Mahogany is a miracle worker. I smile happily at her. "Thank you so much Mahogany." She smiles back at me. After taking one last look at myself, I walk around the room awkwardly, not knowing what to do before the event.

"Hey, can I use your phone to check my Twitter?" I hate using other people's phones to make up for my lack of one. It's bothersome to them, and me.

"Of course. Go ahead. I'm just going to be getting ready," she responds, sweetly.

I type in the passcode she revealed to me and sit down on the end of the bed. It's 1:30, so the show doesn't start for another half hour. I log Mahogany out of Twitter and log into mine.

Dozens of notifications and tweets fill my feed.

I find many sweet, supportive tweets, along with nasty, mean ones. Also, I notice others regarding my lack of contact with the boys and how ungrateful I am, in general. Their fans really seem to jump to conclusions when it comes to these types of things. Honestly, I couldn't be more grateful and I really wish that everyone knew just how happy I am to be here. I decide to tweet out my thoughts, my acknowledgement of the situation.