Colorful (H.S) | ✔️

40

I apprehensively wait outside the Style's residence. Anne opens the door and pulls me in for a hug. She gestures to her maids to take the unopened bags from my hand. They take it upstairs so it'll be ready after makeup.

Gemma steps out behind her mom and gives me a small smile. I toss one back. I'm not sure how she's feeling about me. She doesn't seem as snarky as before, but I've been here for a total of two minutes. 

The older of the two introduces me to all the staff she hired for today. When they ask what I want to do with my look, I'm speechless. How the heck do I know?

Gemma puts her hand on my shoulder and whispers, "I got this." Does she though? 

Part of me is worried she'll make me look like a clown, but I doubt Anne would let her get away with that. I'm still confused at this sudden switch. Why is she being civil to me now? 

She guides the stylists on what to do for hair and makeup while I nervously sit in the chair. Some others get started on the girls. The stylist reassures me that I'll look amazing and all I can do is trust her word. 

"Anne, why didn't you tell me this was a masquerade party?" I ask, trying to stay very still.

"Because I knew you would reject the mask I have for you if you did," she yells back.

Oh gosh, how much is this mask?

I don't even ask, worried about the price. If she thinks I'd reject it, it must be way too expensive. 

Harry doesn't text me the whole day, presumably too busy getting himself ready. I try to act unbothered. 

"Hey, can you guys not tell Harry that I'm coming?" I ask while the stylist begins working on my hair. 

Both of the girls whip their heads towards me, giving questioning looks.

"It'll just make things weird. I don't want him to act differently because... he's my boss," I explain. Not exactly the truth, but whatever.

They both nod and Gemma says, "I gotcha." My ability to lie is getting much better. 

Once my hair and makeup are done, I'm sent upstairs to put on my gown. I'm led to a random bedroom with a maid, who helps with dressing. The room seems like a guest room. It's very generic and has no personal touches. 

During this time, I don't look at myself at all. It's too late to change my appearance now, so I'm hoping for the best. 

When I'm dressed and jeweled up, I stare out the window. I don't want to look at myself, scared of what I've become. Part of me still has a fear that Gemma sabotaged me. 

If you had told me I would be attending a freaking masquerade ball at a mansion last year, I'd slap you silly. I hate the person I'm becoming. The dress hugging my body costs more than a limb. I'm starting to become so... materialistic. 

I've even taken off my dad's necklace, knowing Harry would recognize it. He gets no hints tonight. We're going to see if this bond is truly strong enough. 

The door creeks open and my attention is directed towards Gemma. She's carrying a mask with her, presumably for me. 

She looks stunning. She's wearing a white dress that reaches the floor. Her hair is in an updo, braids wrapping around her head. 

She gently lays the mask on the bed.

"You look great," she says, giving me a once over. It's not a judgy one like the mean girls in high school do.