Abby
Before I even have the chance to resist, I’m being shoved down into my office chair. Chloe grabs my makeup bag off the floor while Leah practically rips my hair out of its tight bun and gets to work.
“Ow—hey!” I whine as she begins brushing my hair. “I can handle myself! You guys don’t need to be doing this!”
“Well, too bad,” Leah says with a smirk. “We’re giving you a makeover, and you’re going to like it.”
“Just trust us. You’re going to look amazing, Abby,” Chloe says as she expertly applies eyeliner.
It seems as though my protests are going to fall on deaf ears, so I quickly give up trying to resist. Before I know it, I’m surrounded by a flurry of activity: makeup, perfume, hair straighteners, brushes, the works. The world turns into a blur of powder and the smell of lilacs,
