Sba: as long as I don't have to d8 u or something like that then I don't rlly give a shit lmao.
Read.
Well shit.
This was going downhill way too fast.
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INT- BEDROOM, MORNING
r.
I'm woken up by the buzzing of my phone alarm along with the knot in my stomach, reminding myself of the message Sabrina replied with yesterday night.
I wasn't entirely sure if it was because of my career at stake or because of how hurt I felt knowing that she would reject me with ease; that is, if I even wanted to date her- which I surely don't. Either way, I push the thought aside for the time being as I was still actively anticipating the failure of the meeting I would be forced to attend shortly with Sabrina and her agent.
As far as I knew, Sabrina was going to come into the meeting with us essentially blindsided while Amanda and Adam desperately plead with her to agree to the ridiculous plan.
I could already imagine how this was going to play out: Amanda and Adam begging on their hands and knees to both Sabrina and her agent followed with Sabrina laughing histairically at both of their foolishness, and (of course) laughing at me for the drastic measures I was willing to take in order to continue being an actor.
She was going to have me wrapped around her finger, and there was nothing I would be able to do about it. She'd even be crazy enough to accept just to have the upper hand on me.
If I knew even just one thing about Sabrina; it was that she loved being on top in any situation. She'd probably even jump at the opportunity just to remind me that I'd always be nothing compared to the power she held on me and the media.
And maybe, now that I think about it, I might be over exaggerating Sabrina's personality quite a bit. Yet, I can't help it.
I've always seen, and been taught, to treat Sabrina as some kind of competitor that I had to defeat and rise above eventually. We pushed ourselves to the limits just for the opportunity to brag to the other; that we achieved something that they didn't, and be given the chance to prove to ourselves and show that we do, in fact, have some type of value.
Seems like Sabrina's winning, I guess.
Groggily rubbing my eyes with the palm of my hands, I proceed to lazily dress myself for the lousy day ahead. It was an important day, to say the least, yet at this point all hope was lost considering my fate laid in the hands of the she-devil named Sabrina Carpenter. I could go on and on about the crooked smirk plastered on her face and the blonde locks adorning her head as it fell perfectly on her shoulders, or how her bright blue eyes hold millions of secrets as they gleam and demand attention, seemingly holding beautiful galaxies and incredible-
Shit, now I'm just complementing the she-devil.
I proceed to brush my brunette hair excessively in anger, watching my tan skin turn redder by the second in the bathroom mirror. I throw my hands up in frustration, dropping my hairbrush in the sink as I shriek in hatred of the blonde girl who somehow had the ability to keep herself running through my mind.
"I give up!" I shout, mainly to myself, as I throw on the closest pair of shoes accessible to me and slam the door to my apartment shut.
