Mr. Cinderella (5SOS) {discontinued}

(4) Beginning Of The Kisstery

It's Saturday night, and the tables are turned;  somehow, Brandy managed to get ready for this concert without spending hours doing her makeup, so now she is waiting for me to get ready instead (which is weird because I'm usually early).

"C'mon," she coaxes from outside my door.  "I wanna get there early!"

I lean closer to the mirror in my bathroom, dragging the navy eyeliner pencil in my hand around my eyes.  When I finish, I drop the pencil back into my bag of makeup, which I zip up and toss onto my bed as I wander back into my bedroom.  "I'm surprised you don't want to get there 'fashionably late' or something," I reply, marching over to the door and swinging it open.  Brandy is standing slanted, her back resting on the wall next to the door, but she straightens up and follows me into my room as I push the door open.

"Yeah, but this way we can help them set up and I can-" she stops, biting her lip like she has said too much.

I raise my eyebrows knowingly.  "So you can flirt with Calum?" She hesitates, then nods.  Knew it.  Sighing, I crane my neck so that I can see the clock on the wall: according to the position of the hands, it's about six in the evening - we are going to be so early.  Even if we're walking there, it will only take about ten minutes, so hopefully the boys are awake enough to amuse me; Brandy's parents insisted that she go to school for at least two of the three weeks she's here for, but since she decided she would start next week she has had literally nothing to do all day this week.  So, to make it up to her, we have been visiting Ashton, Calum, Michael and Luke every day once I get home from school.  Well, I visit them all, Brandy tends to spend the whole time sitting (and flirting) with Calum.  Every so often, I glance over to check on them, but it's not necessary - they both seem pretty comfortable around each other.  Even if Brandy lives in America, I will be surprised if Cal doesn't ask her out before the end of her stay with us; both of them are so obvious about their feelings, it's a wonder that one of them hasn't realised they actually have a chance with the other yet.

Turning to the mirror, I study my appearance one last time before smiling at my friend and telling her that we can go finally.  Even if we are going to end up getting there almost one hour early.  Great.

The weather is great.  Seriously, who wouldn't want to walk through the closest thing to a blizzard Britain will ever see?  Me, that's who.  I am literally sending grateful vibes to Kat for introducing me to waterproof mascara last year, because every time a snowflake collides with my face (which is a lot, let me tell you.  A lot) it ends up melting on my eyes, trailing down my face.  Luckily, according to Brandy's reluctant answers to my frequent - and probably incredibly annoying - questions, none of my makeup has smudged or been ruined as a result.  Unfortunately, I guess I am going to have to credit Kat for this.  Dammit.

"Why do you care so much?" Brandy groans, after I ask (for about the ninth time) if I look okay, or if the stupid snow (my least favourite type of weather - sorry, but winter isn't my type of wonderland) has decimated all my earlier attempts of making myself look even vaguely presentable.  Hmm.  She has a point - why do I care so much?  It's not like I have anyone at the concert-gig-performy-band-thing or whatever it is to impress; like I have said countless times before, Calum is like a brother to me - in other words, I don't bother with makeup that often around him.  When we visit and stay with each other's family, we're often spend the entire day together, just hanging out or getting Cal to teach me bass guitar or the 'art of gaming'.  We're around each other so much during visits that I abandoned my old 'makeup is essential in the presence of anything with a pulse' agenda a few years back.  He's used to me looking like a zombie by now.

The same goes for Kat and all the other friends I invited (or forced to come along) to the 5 Seconds of Summer gig tonight - we aren't necessarily your stereotypical bunch of friends, but we do enjoy the occasional sleepover, during which time we all neglect our makeup bags in favour of popcorn, a rom-com and a family-size box of Kleenex.  No point in mascara or eyeliner when you already know it's going to end up being dragged down your face along with the tears triggered by the sad-yet-predictable romantic comedy plots.