-Emma Watson-
I lay on my bed, willing myself to not cry. I was supposed to be getting ready for the premiere of the final Harry Potter movie. I didn't want to go. I knew that a certain someone was going to be there with that wretched woman.
I paused and reprimanded myself for thinking petty thoughts towards some woman. Just because she was with a man I was in like with doesn't mean I was allowed to hate on her.
I snorted, yes it was. I had all the right. I wanted to roll over and go to sleep but my hair stylist and makeup people walked in, dragging me out of bed.
"Come, Miss Watson, we must make you look dazzling."
"I don't want to look dazzling, I don't feel it either," I grumbled, trying to push my makeup artist, Charlotte Hayward, away from me.
Charlotte grabbed my shoulders firmly and made me look at her.
"Emma Watson, you listen to me, you need to stop moping about that bastard."
I cringed slightly when she called him that.
"He is worthless, hey," she forced me to look at her.
"He doesn't know what kind of gem he's missing out on. You need to show her up. And you know damn well who I'm talking about."
I blushed and felt anger rise in my chest. A fire was lit, a desire to outshine her. To show..him.. what exactly he was missing.
I shuddered every time his name rose in my mind. It was a certain vulnerability so I contented myself just calling him, him.
"Let the makeover begin!" Charlotte said loudly, clapping her hands together. I groaned and allowed them to attack me with brushes and irons.
