|NEXT DAY, 3 P.M.|

BRIANNA

It was afternoon now. Mom and I had just returned from shopping a few minutes ago, and we’d also picked up her medication. Now, we were resting, while I anxiously awaited the arrival of the makeup artists. The closer the time drew for Mr. Adrian to pick me up, the more jittery I became, wondering what the gala would be like.

I went upstairs to take a quick shower before coming back downstairs to wait for the artists. I didn’t even realize when I dozed off on the couch and slipped into a dreamless nap. I was woken by Mom calling my name.

“Brianna, Brianna!” She called, and I slowly opened my eyes, letting them adjust to the afternoon sunlight streaming through the open curtains. I blinked a few times and then shut my eyes again.

“Hmm?” I hummed, still half-asleep, rubbing my eyes.

“The makeup artists are here.” Her voice was more insistent, but the sleepiness in me made it hard to fully process what she said.

“What?” I murmured sleepily.

“The makeup artists you were expecting are here!” She said, louder this time. The sleep instantly lifted, and I sat up, my eyes clearing. I glanced at the wall clock and saw that it was a few minutes past four. Then I looked around the room, my gaze landing on three beautifully dressed women, each holding a box.

“Good afternoon, Miss Brianna,” they greeted in unison. I returned the greeting with a small wave, feeling my cheeks heat up. I must have looked so unladylike, sprawled out on the couch in a nap.

I shot a grateful look at Mom for waking me up. She nodded and returned to watching television.

“Hey, ladies, let’s go upstairs and get this started.” I said, trying to sound confident, even though I was nervous inside. This would be my first professional makeup session, and before now, I hadn’t owned much makeup—just lip gloss, mascara, and powder. But now, I had a whole set of products, which meant I would start experimenting with makeup more often. I also worried about what they might think of my room—it wasn’t the most beautiful, but honestly, who cared? They were just here to do my makeup, and I’d never see them again.

Once in my room, I noticed them glancing around with unreadable expressions, but I brushed it off. I quickly moved a chair to the front of the mirror and cleared the bedside table, dragging it into position. The two pieces of furniture now faced the mirror like a makeshift vanity. The ladies watched me in silence as I set up. I sat down in the chair and took a deep breath.

“Are you ready, ma’am?” One of them asked after I settled in.

“Yeah, I’m ready,” I replied, and they began to work.

| TWO HOURS LATER |

The ladies had finally finished my hair and makeup after two long hours of me sitting still, while they expertly maneuvered my head this way and that.

“We’re done, ma’am,” they chorused, stepping back. I couldn’t wait to see myself. As I peered into the mirror, the reflection staring back at me almost didn’t seem like me. The makeup had enhanced every feature—soft smoky eyes, winged eyeliner, false lashes, and bold red matte lips. My hair was styled in a half-up, half-down ponytail, and I couldn’t help but gush at how beautiful I looked.

“You look so beautiful, ma’am,” one of the artists complimented, and I blushed in response.

“Thank you,” I said, flashing a smile.

“It’s time to put on your dress, ma’am. Mr. Adrian will be here soon.” Another artist said, and I checked my phone—it was twenty minutes to seven. I stood up, went to the wardrobe, and retrieved the dress I’d hung up the day before.

“Uh, ladies, can you turn around please?” I asked shyly. I was pretty sure I saw them smile before they complied. Quickly, I stripped off my clothes, slipped into a new pair of underwear I’d bought the day before, and then pulled on the dress. I told them they could turn back once I was done.

“What’s next?” I asked.

“Now, you sit down while we put on your jewelry and shoes,” one of them said. She opened a box, revealing a glittering diamond necklace, earrings, and bracelets. She carefully placed the jewelry on me, and I couldn’t help but admire how well they suited me. Another artist put on my heels, and I stood up, twirling to check myself in the mirror. I was pleased with how everything looked. The final touch was the fur boa shawl scarf, which I placed on the table to make sure I wouldn’t forget it.

“Thanks a lot, ladies. I really appreciate it,” I said, grinning at them.

“It’s no problem, ma’am. We’re just doing our work,” they replied as they started packing up their things. Once done, they informed me they would be leaving.

“We’ll be taking our leave now.”

“Alright, ladies, thanks once again,” I said, and they exited my room.

I grabbed a few things and slipped them into the purse I’d bought the day before, then headed downstairs to wait for Mr. Adrian. I was sure he’d be here any minute.

“You look so beautiful, sweetie,” Mom gushed when she saw me.

“Thanks, Mom,” I replied with a smile. I was about to sit down when I heard a loud honk from outside. No need for anyone to tell me—it was my insufferable boss.

“Mum, I’ll be on my way now,” I said, pecking her on the cheek.

“Alright, darling. Take care, and don’t stay out too late,” she replied.

“Okay, Mum. Bye!” I rushed out of the house when I heard the honk again. But when I got outside, I realized it wasn’t just a car—it was a sleek black limousine. And there, standing next to it, was Mr. Adrian.

“Took you long enough. I was about to come up there and drag you out myself,” he said as soon as he saw me.

“Oh, please. You couldn’t even be bothered to come up to the door and knock,” I shot back.

“Are you calling me mannerless?”

“Of course not. You said it, not me.”

“Whatever. Just get in the limo and don’t make me angrier than I already am.” He looked tired, and I calmed down slightly before climbing into the limo. He followed me in, telling the driver to start the car. We pulled away from the house, and as expected, Mr. Adrian didn’t even bother to compliment my appearance. But honestly, I shouldn’t have expected him to.

“You look stunning, by the way,” he said after a moment of silence.