Top Priority

54

Taylor’s pov

“I like this one,” Angelina pointed to one of the many outfits in my closet.

“What’s the point of all this?” I asked as she held up incredibly short jean shorts to my waist.

“They need to know that you aren’t someone to fuck around with,” She said simply, grabbing a very revealing crop top I didn’t know I owned, “Do you have any chains?”

“So looking like a slut will get people to leave me alone?” I asked sarcastically, “That won’t make them angry at all.  Smart thinking, Ang,”

I opened one of the drawers on the shelf behind the door of the closet and pulled out a couple of chains for her to look at.

I had a feeling deep down she didn’t know what she was doing.

“Put this on,” She said, not giving me time to protest since she walked out of my closet and shut the door behind her.

I looked down at the outfit she had laying on my floor.  Most of the things were just articles of clothing I used under other clothes or something that Alex didn’t want but thought I would like.

The crop top she chose for me was black with only one strap to go over the shoulder, with lace going up the side.  It didn’t even come close to my belly button, and the jean shorts she chose were way too short for me to be comfortable in.

I clipped the chain to my shorts, realizing that Angelina even picked out shoes for me to wear.  They were my solid black high tops, which was the only thing that I actually liked about this entire outfit.

“Are you almost done?”  Angelina asked, tapping on the door.

“Yeah!’ I shouted back out to her, and within seconds the door was opened once more.

“Wow, I did good,”  She said with a smile, looking me up and down, “You sure you aren’t single?”

“I’m sure,” I breathed out a laugh, looking at myself in the mirror for the first time.  Angelina came up from behind me, both of us looking at each other through our reflections.

“You look good, Taylor.  Now let’s take a few photos to put on Instagram.  Consider this your very first photoshoot,” She grabbed my hand, pulling me into the living room.

Angelina and I set up a professional photoshoot, well, as professional as two stupid girls could get.

She instructed what I was to do the entire time, coming up with a variety of poses and faces I should make.

I wasn’t the best at following directions necessarily, so this took a lot longer than either of us anticipated.  The results were fantastic, according to Ang.

She chose the best five photos to post on my Instagram, which were definitely the ones that made me look like a hoe.  No matter how Angelina reassured me, I knew the image I, or Angelina, was trying to make of me.

I had a love-hate relationship with it.

I didn’t know what Colby would think, and whether he would actually see them or not was a mystery.  We decided to play it safe and not follow each other, and out of all the trap boys I only followed Corey on Instagram.

Angelina left shortly after, leaving me all alone in my apartment.  I had no idea when Alex would be home, so I was left to my own devices to entertain myself.

But I ended up in the bathroom, staring at myself in the mirror.  This girl, her face altered by makeup and her body exposed by the clothes.  This wasn’t the girl that I knew, she was not the one that I thought I was.