Totally Not Me ( 1D/ N.H. / Niall Horan)

Chapter 16

I stare at myself in the mirror watching the hairdresser dance around my head curling, pinning, and hairspraying. There is so much shit in my hair that I don't think it would move if I ran a marathon. The hairdresser glances at the picture from a magazine and looks up at me. She looks quite pleased with herself. Honestly, she did a really good job replicating it.

"That's not right! There are more curls cascading on her right side than her left side! Are we looking at the same picture? I brought you this to make your job easy." My mom is in rare form.

The hairdresser looks glares at my mom as she walks away to bring another picture to the make up artist.

"I'm sorry about that. I think you did a really good job. If I had my way, it would be straight, down, and under a beanie." I try to smooth over the toxic air my mom spread when she came by.

"That can be arranged." The hairdresser exhales and smiles at me. She begins to do what my mom so rudely told her to.

After my hair is done, I'm moved over to a manicure and pedicure. All these hours of preparation for a couple hours at a stupid dance. Why is this such a big deal to my mom anyways?

As my nails dry, I hear my mom giving the make up artist explicit instructions on what she wants for me. I sure wish I had a say in all of this. I feel like her little Barbie doll that she dresses up and parades around. She has become such a materialistic bitch. If marrying into money does that to people, you can keep it.

I waddle over to the make up artist, to not mess up my toes, to get a face painted on that no where near represents who I am. My mother hovers telling the poor woman how to do her job. With my back to the mirror, I feel layer after layer of make up being applied slowly covering up who I am and showing the world who my mom wants me to be.

After what seems like forever, my mom seems satisfied with the finished product and goes to pay. I am then turned to the mirror to look at a perfect stranger.

"You look beautiful. Picture ready." Whispers the make up artist as she smiles at me.

"Thank you." I force a smile.

All the way home my mom rants about how long that took and how lucky I was she was there or else I'd look a mess.

As we rush in the door, Brent passes us.

"That was money well spent." Passes past his lips.

Was he referring to me? It takes a minute to register. I confirm my thought with my mom following me up the stairs to my room with a smile of pride on her face. I roll my eyes and keep walking.

"Ryan will be here in 20 minutes. We need to get you into your dress." My mom says as she closes my bedroom door behind us. Ugh! Would she just go away?

I slip into my dress stand in front of my full length mirror as my mom zips the back. She glances over my shoulder completely pleased with the finished product.

"I'm going to head downstairs. Don't come down until I call you. You have to make an entrance." She instructs and leaves my room.

An entrance? Really? If I climb into the shower in this dress and wash all this shit off and then go downstairs, that would be an entrance. As I begin to debate running into the bathroom and starting the water, the doorbell rings.

I take a deep breath and slide into my heels. I stand in front of the mirror again looking at this finished product my mom created.

"Cailin!" I hear my mom call.

I roll my eyes and proceed to make my entrance. All I can think is that I don't want to trip in these heels. They are seriously high. I take the stairs slowly staring down to make sure I don't miss one.