Ferrari (Completed)

Exhaust: 24

"Look at this one," I point at the image on the screen. "Is it too green?"

"I don't know," Ari responds. "It's nice, but I'm worried it might be too bright in person, maybe even neon."

"Yeah, you're right," I close the tab, moving on to the next dress.

I'm so thankful for online shopping. It's made my life so much easier.

The opening of Ferrari Stadium is only a week away, and I haven't got time to shop for an outfit. Well, I could make time, but none of my friends have time to go with me. They're far too busy with their new jobs. All I have to do this week is to write my review of The Great Gatsby, but I want it to be perfect. It's going to take me days to get it right. I want it to be all about Daisy and Jay, and how their own personal struggles got in the way of their love, but still manage to find their way back to each other. I'm writing it to Oliver. I want it to represent us, and the things we went through.

I'm just not sure what to do about the whole death thing... In the book, Jay is murdered by Myrtle's husband, George, but I don't have a George, or a Tom Buchanan for that matter. Maybe depression is my Tom—or mental illness in general. It has to be something that I'm attached to, something that holds me back.

Maybe I should just spin it to say something romantic about Oliver. Something like... 'If I were Daisy, and he were Jay, I would never let death get in our way.'

It rhymes too. Perfect.

I can't say Oliver's name in the review. Even though everyone will know I'm referring to him, I don't want to make it obvious. That just seems a bit cringy. I want it to be romantic without sounding like a love letter.

Oliver better not die, either. I'll be so pissed. He better be old and grey when he goes. I have to die first. I have to. But I already know I wnt.

He'll probably get lung cancer and die in his sixties.

I'll kick his ass if that happens. I know smoking cigarettes is his way of coping with his childhood, but fuck... I don't knowhow to survive knowing we could've had more time together if he has just given it up.

Fuck. I hate even thinking about this.

"I like this one," Mary points at the screen, drawing my attention to a sleek dark blue gown. "Does it come in green?"

"Let me check," I click on the item, but it only comes in another lighter blue shade. "Ugh, this sucks."

There are barely any green dresses available right now. They're all black, red, and blue.

"Have you tried Bloomingdales yet?"

'Yeah," I sigh. "They had nothing."

"Nordstrom?"

"Nothing."

"Barney's?"

"Nothing."

"Have you checked out any small boutiques?"

"I don't know any."

"Have a look on Instagram. There are so many good designers on there, like Larika Matoshi."

"I'll try," I nod. "I just hope we don't have any other events this year because my fashion budget is only so big."

"You don't need a budget when you're married to Ollie," she wriggles her brows suggestively.

"But still," I laugh. "I can't just rely on his money."

"Sure you can. He has plenty. Didn't he give you his Amex?"