𝗝𝘂𝘀𝘁 𝘆𝗼𝘂𝗿 𝗔𝘀𝘀𝗶𝘀𝘁𝗮𝗻𝘁 ☏︎

𝟎𝟗 | 𝐀𝐒𝐒𝐇𝐎𝐋𝐄

(Edited)

𝐍𝐞𝐯𝐚𝐞𝐡 ☁︎

Why on earth would I need ten whole makeup artists to do makeup for one single person?

It's not even like they're being pleasant. They're turning my head to unnatural angles, and they snap at me if I move it an inch out of place.

Okay, they don't snap, but it just feels like it.

Damien knows how much I hate it when I'm the centre of attention. It makes me feel like people can see every little detail, every little flaw about me.

He did this on purpose.

I'm so going to get back at him for this.

And for my iPhone.

And for insulting my cookies.

And for making me clean his mess.

And for eating my snacks.

So much revenge.

I hate getting revenge on people, holding grudges never came to me naturally. But Damien's ridiculous character seems to bring out the worst in me.

"Ma'am, please keep your head still." The one doing my eyeliner says.

"I'm sorry." I squeak, keeping my words controlled. I'm trying really hard not to have a meltdown, especially since they're just doing their job. But did they have to be so harsh?

After what seemed to be an eternity, they finished my makeup and hair, then let me go change. I take my dress and make my way into the bathroom. It fit perfectly.

I look beautiful.

My head trails back to the way Damien was staring at me when I stepped out of the changing room. I absolutely understand why now.

Sometimes I just like posing in front of the mirror and admire my face card.

I've never looked so good before.

I take some pictures and leave the bathroom.

"You look gorgeous," One of the makeup artists gasp, with a strong western accent. "Can we put your photos on our website?"

I chuckle shyly at the compliment as they all turn to look at me. "Of course."

They resume packing up, murmuring and joking with each other as I plop myself onto the sofa in his living room.

I felt like flexing on somebody. If Noah saw me right now, he'd immediately leave Katelyn for me.

So I send a photo of myself to him.

[photo]
This is what you're missing out on boo.

Then I block him, so he can't respond or call me.

This is the most satisfied I've felt since I broke up with him.

"Get up. We're leaving." A low voice sounds from behind me.