I shook out my red curls as I sang along to Want U Back by Cher Llyod, which was blasting from my iHome. I looked at the mirror, ” I want you back,” I mouthed to my reflection. A smile grew on my face, and I even let out chuckle.
I swayed to the beat, smiling, before applying a light layer of powder.
I thought you’d still be mine, when I kissed you goodbye.
I slid my Tory Burch riding boots on.
You might be with her, but I still had you first.
I buttoned up my shocking pink Calvin Klein coat. This was no day to blend in. In fact, it was the day to stand out.
Remember all the things that you and I did first? And now you’re doing them with–
I turned off my iHome (cutting off the song), seized my iPhone and walked out of my bedroom door in a matter of seconds. Each step was fiercer than the one before.
I looked in the full-length mirror for a final outfit check. I pulled my thick, knee-high socks a tad higher. Fabulous.
A brisk breeze hit me once I stepped out of my home, refreshing me instantly.
” Thanks again for the ride, Mass, ” I said as I slid into Massie’s limo.
“What are friends for?” replied Massie, smirking
” Rate me! ” I begged.
Massie tilted her head to the side. ” 9. ” She adjusted the bow in her hair. “You know what would make it a 9.5? “
It took me a second to mentally debate whether it was a rhetorical question or not.
Massie handed me a tube of Glossip Girl. I applied it immediately, inhaling the energizing scent of peppermint.
” 9.5! ” stated Massie.
I puckered my lips and blew her a kiss.
” Fashion week totally rubbed off on you! ” commented Alicia.
” Can I get a 6-letter word for blazing beginning with F? “
” Fierce! ” exclaimed the four of us in one voice.
Isaac pulled up by a stunning, white, structured building. I held my breath.
” Good luck on your audition! ” cheered the rest of the Pretty Committee.
” What? Aren’t you coming with me? ” I asked.
” Of course we are, silly! ” replied Kristen, waving her hand frantically in the air.
I glanced over Kristen, Alicia and Massie. They were all so–naturally–airbrushed. So toned. So fit.
What if I don’t get the part? What if I get rejected miserably and everyone finds out? What would my mom think?
I gulped once we walked past the wide glass doors. There were at least 100 others girls in there. However, I was able to bypass the endless list thanks to my mother’s connection. I asked her to make sure that at least 10 girls auditioned before me, so I’d have enough time to (mentally and physically) get ready.
” So, where’s your mom anyway? ” asked Massie as we took our seats in the waiting room.
” She’s in Hollywood–interviewing Blake Lively. ” I could hear my own voice shaking. Blake Lively is gorgeous. No, she’s perfection — and she ‘made it.’ I am not perfection… I won’t make it.
I smoothed my silk skirt nervously.
” Dylan Marvil! ” announced a tall woman in a black blazer and pencil skirt.
I got up, taking a deep breath, “That’s me.”
I took one final glance at the PC before walking into the audition room. They responded with major thumbs up.