This story will be if I myself was adopted by Jen, it will be my personality in the main character and how I would react to the scenario it will not be how my life actually is its just my personality in a different life. I hope you like it.
Jen and I are on the flight to New York for the gala. I'm not entirely dreading it anymore which I find surprising. The bright side is that it's my last celebrity mile Stone, I've done two interviews so far, been photographed like fuck by the paparazzi and done some controversial shit on social media. Some would say I've completely transitioned into a celebrity but I know that it's not the case.
I'm pulled from my thoughts when Jen comes out of the bathroom.
"I'm still surprised you're not showing yet," I exclaim to her when I look at her still completely flat stomach.
"Same to be honest but il not complaining, it means I can wear that tight toped dior gown," She shrugs.
"What one did you decide on in the end?" She asks me.
"Out of the ones they sent over I went with the black bodycon one with the racer neckline," I try and get her to recall it with my description. Dior sent over dresses for both of us to pick from because of Jen being their main brand ambassador, they actually asked me to sign on with them too but I haven't decided yet. It depends on what products they'd centre the contract around but they're yet to tell me more information.
"Oh yeah that one, that was my favourite for you. It was like classy but kinda slutty at the same time, in a good way though," She clarifies and I laugh.
"That's what I thought too," I snigger back as she sits down on the seat across from me.
Please excuse my stupid face in the middle picture. That's their dresses:
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"Hungry?" I ask her and she just breaths out through her mouth dramatically.
"Yes but I can't eat before the carpet. I bloat like hell recently," She sighs unhappily.
"So you're going to go through the next four hours hungry?" I point out to her.
"Yeah," She pouts.
"You're an actual child," I tell her.
"Oh you don't say?" She counters.
"Jesus," I chuckle back.
When we land at JFK a security team pick us up on the run way and we are taken to the hotel to get ready.
"So are you scared about your first red carpet?" The hairstylist Andrew asks me as he drys my hair from behind me where I sit in the chair. He's super gay and I fucking love it, he's so sassy it's one of the best things you can experience, a gay mans sass.
"Not really to be honest I think I've come round to the idea," I reply and he nods along.
"I hopefully won't draw too much attention, I've been around long enough for the interviewers not to have a shit fit," I tell him.
