Falling For My Shoe Stealer // l.t.

High Heeled Sneakers Should be a Sin

Chapter 25:

Jessica's POV:

To be honest, I should be hired to become an actress because on the inside I was freaking the hell out. I wanted to scream and dash across the room, out the door, all the way home, and into my bed. I was surprised with how well behaved I was.

Then I realized, I looked like an idiot. I stood, by myself, in the corner of the room. The only people who passed me were waiters or waitresses. So then I did what all awkward people do at a party and shuffled my way over to the food table. That way, it's not obvious I'm drowning in my sorrows because I'm stuffing my face.

Thankfully, I didn't fall in these God forsaken heels, but I embarrassed myself so many times. Each celebrity that passed me, a small gasped escaped my lips, or I smacked my hand over my mouth, eyes bulging. They would give me weird looks, not recognize me, then carry on.

I arrived at the food table and was ready to preform a prayer to God when I spotted Niall there, eating away. "Niall," I gushed, grabbing his forearm harshly and pulling him to the side. He looked at me, and his eyes widened before turning into a grin. "I'm freaking out," I admitted, staring around the room. My eyes were wide, and I was sweating like a hooker in church.

"There's nothing to be worried about," he laughed, slinging an arm over my shoulder as we glanced around. Everything was so fancy. All the celebrities, most who I recognized, were dressed in elegant dresses. The hottest music played around us from who-knows-where. I could still see flashes coming from one open door far away from me. And, thankfully, no paparazzi were allowed inside.

The thing that made me want to kill myself was a huge banner above the stage that read: Jessica Bieber. It was black with silver letters and definitely not necessary. I swear, Justin's parties are over the top.

I saw a group of stars talking among themselves while looking at me. I freaked and spun around, looking at Niall in the opposite direction. "They're talking about me!" I practically screamed in his face. The two faces I saw were enough to kill me. Fucking Brad Pitt and Angelina Jolie were looking at me. 

They are two of the most incredible human beings on Earth. I would vote them King and Queen of America. The fact that they looked at me was the greatest moment in my life by far. 

Niall's face lit up with a lopsided smile. "Someone's coming," he sang, winking at me.

My breath quickened. "Who?" I asked, my fingers immediately fidgeting.

He shrugged. "I don't know. Three girls and two guys. I know one is Rachel from Friends, and the other is that Guy from that new zombie movie," he stated carelessly. I gaped at him. First of all, Brad Pitt and Jennifer Aniston are coming this way. Secondly, how can he be so calm about this?

"No! I can't talk to them! What if I ruin their lives? What if they don't like me and tell other people horrible things about me? What if they tell their fans to hate me? What if-" a tap on my shoulder cut me off. I froze, then willed myself to turn around so I wasn't making a fool of myself by standing there.

"Hello," fucking Madonna greeted me with a smiled, along with four other familiar faces: Brad Pitt, Angelina Jolie, George Clooney, and Jennifer Aniston. I wouldn't be surprised if my wide eyes or open mouth scared them away.

"Well," Niall clapped, "I'll leave you guys to it." He walked away, smirking at me while I glared back.

"Um, hi," I squeaked to the five amazing people in front of me. Of course I wanted to murder myself for being so shy in front of them.