Spotlight on Nobody

- 2 -

~ song: Slip by AMA ~

Grace and Ella are waiting at the door to the SEB trailer when I walk up.

"Hi Dorothy, how was the tornado?" Grace says, gesturing to my hair.

"Oh, shut up, I know I look terrible. A small price to pay for how amazing this night is going to be." I retort.

"And as thanks for those VIP tickets you snagged us, we brought you this," Ella says, holding up a bag with a flourish.

"We figured the humidity and crazy day you had would leave you looking, well, like this, so we brought you a 10-min-makeover!" Grace exclaims.

I squeal in delight and pull them in for a group hug. My two roommates since freshman year, Grace and Ella are my go-tos. The first night we spent in our dorm, I laughed so hard I peed and by morning, we already knew almost all of each other's most embarrassing secrets. People always assume we are sisters, sometimes even triplets. And while we all have brown hair and wear glasses, it's really because our personalities are just three pieces ripped off of one whole. Simply put, we are soul sisters.

Ella pulls out a hidden gem from her dress collection, a silver sequined sheath mini with flowy cap sleeves – something I would wear to a disco party – and pushes it, along with a lacy push-up bra and booty shorts, into my arms. Grace yanks a brush through my ruined mane and deftly braids two pieces into a small crown around my head. While she gently curls large chunks of hair, Ella vamps up my makeup, falsies and a deep wine lipstick included. When they pull a pair of heels from what seems like Hermione Granger's bottomless bag, I balk. At 5'9", I cringe at the thought of being taller than I need to be.

"Oh please please please Nell, they'll make your legs look killer!"

"They're not even that high! And look how CUTE they are – the same color as your lipstick!"

They are cute, I'll admit. Chunky heels adorned with deep purple velvet that ties up half my calf. Ella forces them on my feet and shoves me to the small mirror.

"Okay, fine, they look good." I turn a scolding eye to my best friends. "I'm only wearing them because I love the rest of the look and I see your vision, but just so you know, I'm not enjoying this."

I look back to the mirror and smile. There's nothing like a good outfit to make me confident. My friends would say I am the epitome of confidence. I wear daring outfits, love public speaking, sing aloud on the subway, don't diminish my intelligence to attract boys and couldn't care less about what other people think about me. I love all those things about myself, which makes me seem even more confident, I'm sure. But it's my actual appearance I'm not confident in. I've never been the beautiful one. My thick thighs are dimpled with cellulite, my small boobs and love handles exclude me from the 'curvy' category, and my plain face does little to make up for all I'm lacking. I used to get down about it, berate myself for not being thinner and prettier, but I've just come to accept that's not my role. Now, I just don't wear white pants or take pictures in a bikini and for the most part I can ignore my self-loathing – I'm lucky that way. Far too many girls I know don't even love an inch of themselves. I love my brain and my sense of humor and my passion; I can do much more with these things than I ever could with a pretty face.

"I love you guys so much, you know that right?" I say to the girls, flashing a big smile.

"We couldn't let you meet Leo Griffiths without looking top-notch-smoking-hot!"

"Well, it's a little late for that," I mutter meekly.

"WHAT?" screeches Ella.

"I was cleaning out the green room and he walked in on me trying to make myself presentable," I say defensively. "I did not actively seek him out!"

"Your one chance to seduce a beautiful, kind, talented, hot, funny, sweet – "

"I get it," I cut Grace off. "I'm not necessarily Leo Griffiths material anyways, am I?"

Ella grabs my hand and spins my around so my dress floats around me like a silver lake. Grace slides in, grabs my waist with one hand and dips me with the other, all 115 lbs of her straining to keep me up.

"No you're not," she manages to say in her fit of laughter. "You're 100 times too smart and passionate to be with someone shallow enough to be that famous." I know she doesn't believe what she's saying. Sure, she thinks highly of me – every girl thinks her best friend is the loveliest human on Earth – but she also thinks Leo is one of those lovely people. When I open my Spotify, especially recently, more often than not grace_ful_v is listening to Leo Griffith's album RUBY.

"Okay, okay, enough with the love-fest. You guys need to get to the VIP section before the show begins!" Swatting at their butts, I shoo them out of the trailer. I grab my clipboard with the schedule and everyone's assignments and hurry out as well. I check my watch. 5:58. Sound check time.