You silently curse to yourself under your breath as you drop your mascara brush down at the bathroom counter. The dark makeup smudges and creates a black spot on your recently cleaned and- not to mention - white counter. You let out a sigh of relief when you finish your makeup for the day.
Stuffing your phone and your wallet into your brown leather clutch, you let your eyes trail over your appearance in the full-length mirror on the wall. Giving yourself an approving nod, you stalk toward the door. Fumbling with the keys, you’re finally able to lock the door behind you. To...
“Wait, who was that?… Okay, she’s standing in line to meet you, Bieber, that must mean something. Right?… God, she’s beautiful… I wonder what it’ll feel like to hold her in my arms… Damn, can this line hurry up already? I wanna hug her!… Oh, she’s next… Smile, Bieber. Give her your signature smile. There you go!… Hug her, you idiot! She’s asking you to hug her! Okay… Smile. Say something nice… Okay, good. Ask for her number… Ask for her number before she leaves!… Thank god. I’m so gonna call her later tonight.”