FANFICTION

Chapter 8: Don't Stop Me Now

"Stop it! I won't look good with red lipstick you buffoon!" I slap James' hand away. 

"Will you sit still and let me do your makeup! For Christ sakes Charm I know what I'm doing!" He yells back at me, tilting up my chin to get better lighting from my lamp.

I was sitting at my little vanity that was tucked away in the corner of my room. My very limited makeup was spread out across the top of the vanity in a very neat fashion.

James and I have been giggling, skipping, and having anxiety attacks all day because tonight was Jacob's party.

"I can put on my own lipstick." I said before he brought the red stick of pigment any closer to my face.

"And knowing you, you will smear it everywhere. Who would be the buffoon then?" He says as he pressed the matte colour to my lips.

He slid the lipstick with ease and precision across my rough, calloused lips. He pulled his hand away and a smile spread across his face.

"I just turned the beast into the beauty!" He smirks with a pleased glint in his eyes.

"Asshole." I roll my eyes at him and turn myself to face the mirror.

I was taken aback for a moment. It was like looking at someone completely different. Someone that I would look at when I was a kid and say 'I'm going to look like her someday.' My eyes were a nice neutral colour with a bit of black eyeliner. My cheeks were a baby rose pink which gave me more colour and liveliness to my face. The red that stained my lips was bold but a nice sort of contrast with my green eyes.

"See? Who said redheads couldn't wear red?" James chuckled with his arms crossed.

I smiled at him through the mirror. "Thank you."

"You are very welcome." He smiled gently back at me. He offered his hand to me and I placed my hand in his, slowly standing up.

We both looked at ourselves in the mirror. My hair was down in its natural waves. I was wearing an AC/DC top with a pair of black ripped jeans.

James stood next to me in his fantastic four t-shirt and a pair of blue jeans. His black square rimmed glasses were placed on the bridge of his nose and his hair was flowing in nice dark chocolate waves.

Oh well, what could I say? It was better than the suspenders.

"Come on! Let's get moving! It's eight already!" I jump with excitement, heading towards my bedroom door.

James sauntered behind me with a posh expression. "Please darling," he told me in a bad British accent, "we can be fashionably late!"

I walk over to him and grab him by the ear, dragging him to follow my lead.

We both dashed down the stairs in a hurry. We quickly made our way to the front door, putting on our matching black and white converse, and dashed out of the house.

James opened up the truck with a click of his keys. We both hopped into our designated sides of the vehicle. The engine roared and the CD James had in the stereo was quietly playing one of my favourite songs.

"Turn this shit up Dunes, we need to get pumped!" I yell in eagerness.

James begins to blast some Freddy Mercury as we both begin to dance in our seats and sing as loud as our vocal chords can handle.

"DON'T STOP ME NOW! I'M HAVING SUCH A GOOD TIME, I'M HAVING A BALL.
DON'T STOP ME NOW! IF YOU WANT TO HAVE A GOOD TIME JUST GIVE ME A CALL.
DON'T STOP ME NOW ('CAUSE IM HAVING A GOOD TIME)
DON'T STOP ME NOW ('CAUSE IM HAVING A GOOD TIME)
I DON'T WANT TO STOP AT ALL!"