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"KEEP STILL." Momma nags as she drags a brush through my head. How else am I supposed to react when that thing hurts like hell?
"Momma!" I whine when she combs through a knot.
"Jordyn, beauty is pain."
"It's not supposed to be this painful." I sulk, crossing my arms as she sets the brush down.
Momma then gets a pot of curling custard and applies it into my hair, along with some spritzes of water. After a few minutes, the product sets and my curls become a lot more defined, stretching down to my mid back.
I've always had long hair, which is why I keep it in protective styles like box braids to keep it that way.
"There, done." Momma gets out some gummy gel and slicks my edges, making cute patterns on the front of my head.
"Thank you." I say, wrapping a headscarf around it and standing up from my seat.
Since my hair and makeup is done, I decide to go and put on my dress which I'm in love with, by the way.
It's a baby blue bodycon dress with thin straps and a little bit of sparkle on it. This dress is going to work well with Peter's jet black suit, which has a baby blue napkin in the pocket.
What can I say? Momma's a school dance genius.
I take the headscarf off of my head and throw it carelessly on the chair next to my bed and walk into Talia's room in search for the white strap stilettos she was supposed to give me yesterday.
"I don't have 'em." Talia shrugs when I question her.
"I don't have time for your games, Lia." I huff. "Give me the damn heels."
She groans and gets out of her bed, mumbling something under her breath. She's lucky she's older than me or else I would've curb stomped her ass in this fucking dress.
"Here." Talia shoves the shoes in my hands. "I want them back without a scuff on them."
"No promises, babe." I blow her a kiss and exit her room, using the wall as support so I could put the heels on.
"Where's the rest of your dress?" Dad asks, standing in the hallway and I chuckle.
"Ask the tailor." I stand upright. "It's cute, right?"
"Yeah, for a hooker." Dad attempts to pull the dress down but instead, it just makes my cleavage show even more. "I can't win, can I?" Dad asks, fixing the dress up for me.