Drawn To You | j•jk ✓

•ten•

Present:

You open the door of your dressing room and peep your head out of the door, looking for your stylist or any kind of staff. But the halls of the AMA's waiting rooms were empty.

"Brenda?" You whisper out into the hall and then mentally slap yourself because obviously no one could hear your voice.

"Brenda?!" you call out louder to the emptiness, your echo mocks you.

You sigh and step out from the dressing room into the silent halls of white. You didn't know where the heck where you were going so you spin yourself around with your eyes closed and your finger pointed out. After three or four turns you stop yourself and open your eyes to reveal your choice of direction only to find your finger pointing at your dressing room.

Another helpless sigh.

It's not a bad idea though, maybe I should just stay in there.

As your feet start leading you back into the room, the sound of loud heels clicking against the ground cause you to turn around and you find yourself facing the very woman you've been looking for.

Brenda walks towards you quickly "There you are! Oh dear, what happened to your face?"

"Huh?" you look at her startled by her rude comment.

She grabs your arm and starts dragging you down the hall. You almost stagger as you try to keep up with her quick pace in your high heels. "Quickly. You need to get seated, they're about to announce the Artist of the Year award and you're nominated for it."

Her words comes out too fast for you to process them properly. "Pfft! That's what you're worried about?"

She eyes you oddly "You're Y/N."

"Yeah." you acknowledge "But I've been an artist only for about several months. I ain't gonna win."

You reach the backstage door that leads you out into seating area. "But like I said-" your stylist continues and looks at you solemnly "You're Y/N."

She ceases dragging you and lets your arm loose. She swivels to face you and smiles brightly "Copy my face when people look at you, capiche?"

Rolling your eyes, you tell her. "I will, don't worry."

Since you were a new artist your label always reminded you of how crucial it was that you made yourself fully approachable to the public. Which meant most of your days were full of forced smiles and fake laughs.

You straightened your back and put on a friendly face. A different woman with a headset approaches you "Follow me." she simply says and you do as your told.

The only light that's shining is on the stage, leaving the whole arena dark. Even though you don't know the woman you grab onto the back of her black hoodie as she walks in front of you. Knowing you, there was definitely a big chance you were going to trip on some kind of wire and collapse onto your face.