Scars, Suicide and Australians

Many Talents and Bae Playlist

Ana's POV

"Hey you asshat." I said, continuously poking Michaels cheek.

"What?" he snapped,

"I was thinking, we could set up Luke and Becky. Tonight, we get them to dress nice, take them to a restaurant, they have a good ass time, come back to the bus and shag." I said enthusiastically.

"You're a genius."

"It's one of my many talents."

"Don't rub it in."

"I always have been the smart one."

"Just because I dropped out of school."

"My attendance was below 30% for five years running."

"Go back to your own house you bitch."

"Really feeling the love, Michael. Really feeling the love."

"Out."

"Love you too!" I yelled over my shoulder, slamming the door.

I walked in to my own house and yelled at Becky.

"Rebecca, get your ass in my room now."

"Why?" she replied.

"Now." was my simple answer.

I grabbed a two water bottles and ran up the stairs. I walked straight in to my room and threw one at Becky.

"Sit." I commanded.

She did. I applied moisturiser to her face, before applying a very small amount of concealer. That was literally it for face make up - she has beautiful skin.

I grabbed my eye pencil and carefully lined her waterline, before grabbing my liquid pen thingy and winging her top lash eyeliner. I then applied a small amount of clear mascara, as I know how much Becky hates it.

As she has beautiful curly hair, all I did was brush it through and pinned back her fringe. I gave her a hair band in case it got annoying later on in the evening.

I checked the time and saw it was 5:55PM.

'We're taking my car, meet us out front at 7PM' I texted Michael.

'Sure.' he replied. I'm pretty sure he was still pissed off because of our pointless tiny argument earlier.

I plugged my phone into the speakers and pressed shuffle on my "Bae" playlist - the one that has songs that reminds me of Becky and me. The first that came on was The Pretender by The Foo Fighters.

I turned it up really loud then dragged Becky over to her room. rummaging through her closet, I tossed aside the clothes she couldn't wear and put potential clothes in a pile.

Buried in the back of her closet, underneath odd shoes and old school supplies was a beautiful skater skirt, plain black with tight elastic around the waist. On her, it came down to slightly below mid-thigh.

I paired it with black tights that had the coolest floral pattern, and a pair of burgundy vans. Then, I pulled out a sheer button up burgundy shirt with gold studs on the collar, and a black tank top.

I shoved it all in her arms and told her to put it on. She did with no arguments.

When she emerged, I sprayed her with Our Moment perfume (she doesn't like the band but it's her favourite perfume off all time) and shoved her out the door.