Call Me Sometime, a Bradley Steven Perry Fanfiction.

The Process.

Azalea’s POV:

Kylie and I left the studio. I told her what happened with Bradley, and as she drove me home, when I mentioned my dad, we both started crying, because he would flirt with Kylie all the time. He was like that with everybody I met, and people bullied me and her because they thought we did something to him to make him talk to us this way, but they never knew that that is what he was like.

But when we arrived home, we laughed, because our mascara was running down our faces and we looked like raccoons. Then we started to get ready. Kylie made Lucas’s dinner parties the best. And Lucas loved her. She called him, ‘Dad number 2’, because he was like a second father to her. He loves us both. He even helped us pick out our dresses for tonight, and took us shopping. My dress is gorgeous. It has one shoulder, and was a very light pink. It almost looks white, but it really isn’t. It has gentle/muted ruffles down the entire dress, and it was floor-length, with a little bit of a train. And since I’m already fairly tall, I decided against heels tonight. Instead I was going to wear my Victoria’s Secret gold gladiator sandals. I wear these with long dresses, and heels with ones that show my legs, to make them look long, smooth, and slender. Or does Bradley want to see me in heels? I walk in to the living room, where Kylie was sitting. I had no makeup in, no shoes, and my hair was a messy, tangled mess. Kylie looked up from her phone, and laughed when she saw me.

“Well that’s attractive.”

“Shut up! I’m having a crisis, I need some help!”

Kylie snorts at me. “Clearly.”

I give her a look, and she stops making fun of me. I think that’s what makes us friends. We make fun of each other, but when it really matters, we are there for the other person.

“What’s up?”

“Should I wear a short dress with heels, or this long one with sandals?”

She gives me the ‘are-you-kidding-me’ look.

“What?” I say.

“That’s it? That’s your crisis?”

“YES!”

She chuckles, and shakes her head while looking at the ground.

“What?”

“Nothing. Let’s go to your room, and do your stuff, because I’m ready.”

“Ok. Thanks K.”

“You’re welcome A. Come on, let’s go! We could be late!”

“Well then, let’s get going!” I pull my dress up to my knees, and we run to my room. Kylie closes the door, and turns to me.

“You should go with sandals, because this is one of the longer parties, and a lot of dancing. Your feet would die if you wore heels.”

“Ok.”

“Now, onto makeup. I will do it for you. Ok?”

“Fine, but don’t make me look like a clown.”

“I’ll try not to. Come on.”

We walk to my bathroom, and she takes my makeup bag out of the cabinet beneath the sink. She starts off with my foundation, and then adds concealer under my eyes. Then she adds a small layer of bronzer to my face, so my skin looks a natural tan color. She then adds a little blush to the apples of my cheeks, so my cheeks have a small, pink glow.

“Ready for the eyes?”

“Sure.”

She starts with eyeliner, and gives me giant, bold lines, and wings it out. She then takes out my Maybelline Rocket Mascara, and my eyelash curler. After she curls my lashes, she gives me at least 800 coats of mascara. More like 4. But still. Then she takes out my eye shadow palette, and decides on a sparkly silver color. She applies it to me eyes, being careful of the rest of my eye makeup. When she is done with that, she tkes one last look at it before moving on to my hair.

“I’ll just brush it, then curl it, and some hairspray.”

“Sounds good. You are the expert.”

“Obviously. I think after we finish High School I’ll take up cosmetology.”

“Awesome. I approve.”

“Good.”

She starts brushing my hair, and I started to think. She already had an idea of what she wanted to do with her life. Me, I had nothing. What was I going to do? She had a natural talent for makeup, hair, beauty, stuff like that. But me, I had nothing, except for my photography. And my dance, but I don’t really tell people that. But no one has wanted to model for any pictures, and it feels lonely and boring by myself. Everyone in my family is busy, and “doesn’t do that stuff”. Kylie just has a problem with pictures. Next thing I know, Kylie is yelling things at me.

“What?”

She laughs at me. “That took forever! You where spaced out! Your makeup is done, and so is your hair. Just put on shoes, and pack a purse, and we can leave.

“Ok. Thanks.”

“You’re welcome.”

 We hugged, and she went back into the living room. Then, after I was ready, Lucas came in the room, in a tux.

“Ready to go?”

“Yep.”

“Let’s go then. Where’s Kylie?”

“I don’t know. I don’t keep track of where she goes. I think in the living room.”

“Go get her. I’ll be in the car. If you aren’t there in 2 minutes, I’ll leave without you.”

“No you won’t.”

“I won’t, but we have to leave.”

“Ok. KYLIE, GET YOUR ASS IN THE CAR! WE’RE LEAVING!”

“ALRIGHT, ALRIGHT, I’M COMING!”

As we finally got on the road, it was nearing sunset. Lucas won’t tell us were the venue is, so we have no idea where we were going. He tells us to close our eyes when we are a block away. We do.

“Okkkkkkk, open your eyes!”

I open mine, and I was amazed. I was a golf course, and the building in the middle of the site is where we would eat, and there is a dance floor in the middle of one of the green fields.

“Wow.” 

“I know. Boys!” Somebody taps my shoulder, and I turn around.

“Hey, Azalea. You look, wow. Jason, what word should I use?”

“I don’t care. Get a dictionary!”

I laugh.

“Hey, Bradley. You are looking all sharp and handsome.”

“And you look astonishing.”

He holds out his arm, and I take it as we walk towards the crowd of fancy business-y people, ready to enjoy the magical night ahead of us.