“Um, Miss Erica? We need to remove your make-up? Miss Erica?”
I snapped out of my daze.
“Huh?”
“We need to remove your make-up, Miss Erica.”
“Oh, right.”
Damn Daniel and his stupid lips. I hate him. Who gave him the right to kiss me? I was so not alright with it. It was probably going to be in the magazine now, and the whole world will know. I wasn’t even ready yet, after that bastard Ben. I needed time to recover. I needed time alone.
Why the hell did no one tell my heart that?
“Um, could you just take out the false eyelashes? I have a date later, and I, um, don’t want to put on my make-up. Again.”
The false eyelashes were way too glitzy, with their faux diamond-encrusted ends, all sprinkled with glitter. Definitely not casual-Starbucks date.
“You’re going on a date?”
My head spun.
“Daniel!”
“Who?” He was standing, leaning against the door frame of my dressing room, looking kind of mad.
“No one you would know,” I said, quickly.
“Why don’t you try me? I know a lot of people.”
“Sam,” I said, the first name I could think of.
“What?” He looked angrier. Maybe he knew a bad Sam or something?
“Scott.” Shit, I said it.
“What?!” He looked even more pissed.
“Seb...?”
“You’re lying, aren’t you?”
“No…” I said, my voice trailing off. I couldn’t even convince myself. Acting was so not right for me.
“So you are lying?”
“Yes. I mean, no. No, I’m not lying. I never lie.”
He glared at me.
“That’s incredibly unconvincing.”
I bit my lip, and turned back to the make-up artist girl, who was gently pulling out the false eyelashes. I kept very, very still. Being poked in the eye wouldn’t help right now.
“That’s not my problem. Why do you want to know who I’m dating, anyway?”
“No reason,” he replied. “Bye.”
I said nothing, as he left.
***
╣Daniel╠
I threw the flower I’d been holding behind my back into a trashcan.
I had somewhere to go, anyway. I didn’t have time to talk to her. I had problems I needed to deal with. I had to see my brother.
***
♫Erica♫
I picked out a casual pink dress from a rack, and got changed. I gazed into the mirror. I looked like me again. A regular girl, just trying to make it in show business. I was normal again. I sighed, and left the dressing room. Modelling was always such hard work. Even though it looked easy, twisting your body into unnatural poses, while trying to look like you were having fun, was definitely not fun.
I walked out of the studio, saying bye to Eduardo (hey, it can’t hurt to suck up a little), and into the parking lot. I could see my Taxi outside, waiting for me. I made my way across the pavement, feeling all the blisters on my toes (once again, I HATE MODELLING!)
