Meeting the Elite

Red Looks Good On You... Especially At The Gala

Today was the day of the Met Gala. W was covering it, of course. And Sophia was going to be in a middle of it.

Our almost successful reported/ fashion icon woke up in agony.

 Bad dream, again. She was so stressful these past few days because of W big project. That being covering The Met Gala with W's best reporters.

 Being one of them, made Sophia insides turn.

She stumbled out of her bed and clumsilly ran to the bathroom.

After some time she exited the bathroom fully dressed for the day. She went in the kitchen in hope to eat something.

 That's when she spotted a black box on her table. She walked to it and saw initials MD ingraved on it's shutter.

Mark Dallas. What now? Sophia was getting annoyed. She thought she made it clear.

No presents.

Wait. He broke into her place?! Maybe he watched her sleep. 

Get that idea out of your head, Sophia, she said to herself. She slowly opened the box.

The inside of it made her gasp.

It was a red sleeveless formal dress. Sophia leaned the dress to her body looking herself at the mirror.

The boy had taste. She took a look at the box. 

She pulled out black pumps. She tried them out. Perfect fit.

How did he do that? 

There was a note in the box. She took it and read.

I figured red looks good on you.

 Hope a earned some attention, now. Any gifts from Chris?

Save me the dance, beautiful.

                                      MD.

As much as she didn't want to admit it, Mark was right. She haven't heard from Chris since, well never.

And she thought she would had a chance. It turns out that she was just a charity for him, after all. And Mark was there. Always.

Unbelievably. How more stupid she can get? Chris was taken by a rich mean girl. And the fact that he could love someone like that, tells a lot about him. 

She pulled her phone out of her back pocket. She decided to text Mark.

"Thanks for the outfit. Share red carpet with me?" She tuped but hesitated to send. If she sends this, it changes everything.

Cut the crap, Sophia, she thought to herself pressing the send button angrily.

Sophia waited for response. She grabbed an apple and started eating it.

"Spotlight and red carpet are the only things you weren't suposed to share." He replied.

Sophia felt a tear drop down her face. 

He did not want to do anything with her. She dropped her phone on the ground crashing into tear. She never felt like this before.

Was it possible?

Sophia liked Mark.

Suddenly her phone went off signalling she got a text. She turned around as soon as she heard the noise. She grabbed it.

Come on. Stupid button. She read the text.

"I am joking. I will pick you up." The text said. Oh, God. She almost died. 

For the rest of the day, she watched Netflix.

2 Hours until the gala starts :

Time to prepare. Sophia placed her laptop on the table and left  to take a shower.

She let hot water drop down her body. It was so relaxing for her body. Once she washed her hair, she exited the bathroom with a towel wrapped around her body.

She made her black hair flow on her shoulder. The she applied her makeup.

 Mascara, eyeliner, powder, were scadered across the table. What a mess.

 Never mind.  

She ran to her room and took a dress that Mark got her. She wore it. 

"Oh my God." She said once the outfit was done and she was standing in front of her mirror.

"Exactly what I was going to say." She heard a voice say from the doorstep. Mark. 

Oh,oh. Butterflies.

"Shall we?" He said and they walk out. Next station, Met Gala.