Tall, Dark, and Anxious (An Adam Driver fanfic)

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AN: Hello! Thank you for choosing to read my story :) I apologize if it's not the most earth shatteringly amazing thing you've ever read, I haven't written fan fiction in five years, so I'm pretty rusty. I do accept feedback, but I do not accept hate comments, so please, if you wind up not liking the story, just exit. I also have one other completed story, titled Banished, that is an adventure story with elves and pirates and mythical beings like that, so if that sounds good to you, I'd appreciate the love there too :)

 I rush to get ready. We're already a little late. My best friend, Ileana, cannot be on time for anything.

"Ileana, hurry up! I'd like to get there before my next birthday!" I call up the stairs.

Ileana and I have been best friends since preschool, we've been through puberty together, teenage crises, bad breakups, and drug experimentation; I don't think I could have survived all of that with anyone else. When my grandma passed away three months ago, she was the main one who was there for me through the poignant experience.

It's not that no one cared that my grandma died, it's just that we had a lot going on in our family at the time, and honestly, we were starting to think she'd never die. Throughout her life, my grandma suffered from getting stepped on by a horse, having a cyst on one of her ovaries, two strokes, and four heart attacks. She had 11 stints in her heart and was still kickin' Ultimately, it was the old age that took her out. She was 95.

My grandma and I were really close.  My family was pretty poor when I was growing up, so my mom worked often, trying to make ends meet. My grandma practically raised me. She would watch the same holiday and halloween movies with me every year and never complain, she actually listened to me, she taught me how to cook and bake, and she cared about my mental health when I was going through a rough time, she was always there for me.

Every time she had any sort of health emergency and had to go to the hospital, which she was very stubborn about so she would refuse to go until she felt like she would die if she didn't, I would rush to be by her side. We used to all go to see her, but after it happened so many times and she was always okay by the end of it, my parents stopped going because they always assumed she'd make it through; I never stopped. I was the only one there when she passed. When I was seven, she gave me a mood ring. The mood ring was always too big for any of my fingers, so I just wear it on a chain around my neck every day. I don't think it works, but it's from her so it's special to me.

My dad was diagnosed with brain cancer just two months before his mother died. His health declined fast and he passed two weeks after grandma. Unfortunately, I moved in with Ileana, into this house, a month before my dad's passing, so I feel horrible now that my mom lives all alone. I still keep in touch and visit very often; I'm all she has.

I space out, staring into the full length mirror we have by our front door, mindlessly fiddling with the mood ring. I start to do that thing I always do. I have a habit of spiraling when one negative thing is on my mind, and dwelling on other negatives in my life. I stare at my reflection, analyzing myself.

My wavy brown hair is healthy, hangs just below my chest, but I always thought my lips were too thin. My skin is way too pasty for my liking, but at least my eyes are a really pretty hazel color. I'm fit, very skinny, but I'm 5'9 and have no curves. I never really liked my body, and guys always chose my short friends, especially the busty ones, over me. I had to learn to accept myself as I am because I'm against plastic surgery, so cosmetic work isn't in the plans for me; surgery wouldn't fix my height, my main insecurity, anyway. In my red turtleneck, my arms look like bamboo sticks, I'm so lanky. I opted for a black pair of skinny jeans and my most expensive shoes I own, gold Versace stilettos; I splurged with some of my savings to get them as an impulse buy to cope with my grandma and dad's deaths. My hair is tied back into a ponytail with a checkered scrunchie and a pair of brown sunglasses rested on my head. The chances of Adam noticing me in the crowd and instantly falling in love with me are extremely slim, but I still want to look good, I can dream, right? I wear a black lacy underwear set...just in case.

Ileana's voice broke me from my thoughts.

"Stop thinking negative thoughts! You only turn 21 once, so let's go to this meet and greet, go to a bar after, drink ourselves into a stupor, then call it a night."

She looked at our reflections in the mirror.

"Stop obsessing over the way you look," she says.

"Easy for you to say; you're gorgeous."

I always admired Ileana. Her hair is straight and black, a bob. Her eyes are feline-like, upturned and captivating. I always adored almond shaped eyes. We're about the same size and she's the same height as me, which boosts my confidence. If she can be tall and still be beautiful, I can too. Her boobs are a lot bigger than mine. Must be nice.

"Not by Chinese standards. My face is too long, I'm too tall, and I'm too fat," she explained.

I eye her up and down.

"Really?"

She nodded.

"When my family and I visit back home, I really stick out," she says.

I sigh and turn my attention back to the mirror.

"If you're ugly, then what am I?"

"Oh, stop. We're both hot. Now, I paid a lot of money to get us these tickets, so let's go," she said.

I smiled and hugged her.

"You're the best, Illy."

"I know. Happy birthday, Hailey."