How do you get back at your childhood tormentor from middle school? To Milana Cavallero, the answer is simple: just crash every party he throws, until his senior year ends. Of course, that's easy when your single dad is a local police officer. Alway...
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I ROLLED MY EYES at Sam's next comment, "Fuck. There's goosebumps all over my back now." before proceeding to spray her hair. When can Sam ever stop complaining and giving excuses to not wear the beautiful dress she got, currently glued onto her body? It was a burgundy cocktail dress with a cutout back and neckline, with pleating on the skirt. Sam was not one of the girls who normally goes shopping for accessories, which you can tell, she loves snapbacks even more than feminine clothing.
So at the end, she asked her aunt, Carla, to buy her a dress that match her well. This was for the graduation ceremony that's held this evening. It was currently five and it won't start until six. Unlucky for her, these ceremonies don't allow casual outfits. Oops, sorry Sammy, but those caps gotta go home.
"Stop complaining, bitch. You look great in this dress and it will not be refunded." I grumbled at her as I pulled the ends of her blonde hair, make it seem longer down her shoulders. She proceed to let out a huff.
"You should be thankful it was expensive, or not I would've easily thrown them away. God, why did Carla bought this one."
"Because you hate shopping for dresses so you gotta at least wear it once in a while." I informed, turning off the iron as I went to do her makeup next. I was not an expert but my skills were very minimal, but since this was a special day for her, I got to make her look good. Even though she might kill me at the end.
After ten minutes, I was already done applying foundation. I don't normally use foundation, but it was easy to be applied anyways. Thankfully, our skin tone are quite matching, so I decided to use my makeup instead cause she lacks cosmetics for herself. Then going on with some slight contouring on the side. Shit. I'm pretty good at this. Then a bit of blush. Yes, looks nice. Lip balm. Check. Burgundy lipstick to match the dress. Check.
"Fuck! Fuck! It hurts!" Sam complained as I applied burgundy colored eyeshadow with a small brush below her eye.
"Goddamn it, Sam. Stay still." I informed, shooting her a quick glare. She grumbled in annoyance while crossing her arms.
"Not when you're shoving a fucking crayon into my eyeball!"
I rolled my eyes. "It's a brush, not a pencil." I corrected with a groan. After that, I applied a bit of brown to the burgundy color, giving it more depth. Sam was still tapping her feet impatiently, wanting to get her makeup done as soon as possible and get the pain away from her face. With the last touch up of curling her lashes, I applied mascara.
"I'm done!" I squealed as I fist pumped the air with both of my hands. Sam looked at me as if I completely lost my mind, like I was in a different world perhaps. She rolled her eyes.
"Alright, stop celebrating your victory and get me a mirror." She ordered before clicking her fingers towards the small mirror near the vanity set. Well, I guess the makeup is too heavy for her to lift her bum up and grab the mirror herself. I then do as she told, waiting to see her reaction.
