24. Makeover

Leon wasn't lying when he said his stylist would be here at eleven.

Not that I expected him to lie, but I didn't think she would show up exactly at eleven. Knocking on my door like she's not being paid to be here. I opened it up, half dressed having just had a shower and thrown on a robe to get the door, thinking it was some kind of emergency or something. But no.

"What are you doing? You're supposed to be dressed and ready to go. Did Leon not tell you I would be here at eleven?" She questioned, knowing full well that he did. It seems Leon makes himself a habit of hanging around assholes like him. "I cannot deal with this, throw some clothes and shoes on before we're late for your appointment."

"Appointment?" I ask. I didn't hear anything about an appointment.

"Yes, we are getting your hair done as well as nails and a facial. We need you glowing for when Leon announces his relationship to the press. Can't have you looking like..." Her eyes dragged over my face and down my body with the utmost scrutiny. "That."

I refrain from saying something snarky back at her. Not that I think I could. She has absolutely no flaws. With stunning wavy red hair that cascades down her back like some spring waterfall, and a face so perfect that makeup would merely hinder her natural skin and vibrant green eyes. She looks like she could be a supermodel, maybe she is. I feel like she does look vaguely familiar. Why doesn't Leon just date her instead, she clearly knows how to navigate this life. Whatever.

I do as she says and go back to my room, putting on the nicest clothes I have, which just so happens to be a pair of grey slacks and black long sleeve turtleneck. Pulling on my doc's, I fix my hair into a high messy bun and give myself one last look in the mirror before deciding that I look appropriate enough to enter society without garnering looks of disgust from the people of high end society.

"You're wearing that?" The stylist gags at the sight of me. Her face recoils and she takes a large gulp of air. Is she going to pass out? How am I more worried over whether she's going to pass out than insulted at the fake she's literally gagging at me?

I ignore her question and hold out my hand. "I realise I haven't introduced myself, I'm Phoebe." She looks at my hand, as if debating whether she should shake it or not, before shaking it firmly.

"Alicia Sanderson."

Hang on a second. "As in, the Alicia Sanderson?"

"Yes yes, that's me. No need to freak out. I don't do photos or autographs anyway."

I knew that I recognised her from somewhere. She's a bloody model. And not just any model. She's on the cover of every magazine, close friends with the kardashians and star of one of the biggest tv shows in the states. How did I not immediately recognise her? And why the fuck does Leon have her as his personal stylist? So fucking random. "Why are you working for Leon?" I ask.

"He pays well." She shrugs. Shit, he must pay freaking amazing to hire her, like she doesn't already have enough money.

"Enough of the chit chat, we have places to be." She grabs onto my arms and drags me to the elevator and then through the foyer of the building and to a Rolls Royce sitting out the front. I don't have time to stare in awe as the driver opens the door for us and I'm pushed into the fanciest car interior I've ever been in. This car is worth more than my life, I feel like just being in it is a crime. "You need to work on your walk, your back is hunched like you haven't slept in days and you walk like you don't know where you're going."

I'm about to tell her I don't, but she starts talking once again as the car pulls away from the curb. "Leon needs someone who looks like they belong at his side. You can dress a girl up in designer clothes and operate on her face until she's the most beautiful woman on earth, but none of that will matter if she doesn't act with confidence. Which you clearly lack."

While her words hurt, they ring more true than anything. I don't have nearly as much confidence as I once did, and constantly being ridiculed by people who think they're above you also hasn't been helping. "What do you want me to do about that?" I ask, genuinely curious as to what the hell she has to suggest for me to look like I know what the fuck I'm doing.

She breathes in through her nose and looks at me. Properly looks at me, not with that fake expression she bore before. There's no judgment at all. "No matter what excuse he gives, of all people, Leon wants you to be the first person he announces that he's in a relationship with publicly. That's no small thing. Many women would kill to be with that man, and he chose you. Act like that means something, because it does."

But none of that matters, because it's all fake! I don't say that out loud, but I desperately want to. Regardless, I suppose she's somewhat right. He chose me to be in a fake relationship with even when he could've found anyone else who looks slightly like me. I nod my head a turn to look out the window as we drive through the bustling streets of the city.

It doesn't take long for us to reach a warehouse in the middle of everything. We walk inside and I feel my mouth gape open at everything. There are racks and racks of designer clothes lined up everywhere including bags and shoes, and everything you can possibly imagine. On the other side of the room is a whole station that is fitted with a dozen people who look like they're waiting to start my makeover. I'm not even given any time to say anything before I'm shoved down into a chair and my makeover begins.

"Okay, so I'm thinking shorten the hair a bit and add some blonde highlights, it'll really make her face pop." Alicia says to the other stylists who eagerly nod their heads and waste no time in getting started.

"I don't really want blonde high—" I don't get the chance to finish speaking, because Alicia interrupts me again, saying what colour they should do my nails. Alright, looks like I have no control in this situation.

And so for the next few hours, I place my trust in the hands of the professionals.

***

I look... pretty.

I stare at myself in the mirror, my hair sits just above my shoulders and frames my face nicely, making my eyes pop. Alicia styled me in a lot of neutral toned clothes that flatter my body well and make me look elegant, even regal. I really do look like I could be his girlfriend now. I don't know how I thought I could convince anyone with how I was looking before.

"Leon's going to be on his knees when he sees you. I can't wait till he gets here." Alicia says with excitement. I smile, until I realise what she just said.

"He's coming here? Right now?" I ask.

"Yes, he'll be over in like twenty minutes. Why, what's wrong?"

I look at my phone at the time and my eyes bulge. It's five-thirty and Holland will be over at Rory's in half an hour to pick me up. Fuck, I need to leave, now. "I've got to go, I have somewhere I need to be." I say in a panic, gathering my bag and belongings before heading to the door.

Alicia runs after me, placing a hand on my shoulder. "Are you sure that's a good idea?" She questions, slightly nervous. Her confident and cocky tone is nowhere to be seen. "It sounded important when he said he was coming, like he's got something to tell you." I think back to the other night when he said he had something to tell me and it was the most unimportant thing in the world. I think he'll live if he doesn't tell me for another few hours.

"It'll be fine." I wave her off, giving her one last goodbye before stepping out onto the street and calling for a taxi. Not even seconds later, I'm on my way to Rory's. Hopefully I'll be able to catch her before the date and apologise for everything that went down the other day.

Finally we reach our street, but a bunch of traffic stops us from going any further. I give the driver cash and get out, hurrying to the sidewalk and down the street. But the closer I get to the house, the more I notice something's off. I can see police cars and an ambulance parked right outside the house and a bunch of people standing around watching whatever is going on.

I hurry my pace, and that's when I see everything is right outside Rory's. A bunch of police are coming in and out of her house, with equipment and...

I run towards the house and go to the nearest police officer. "What happened here?" I ask frantically. He looks at me with an expressionless face.

"I'm sorry miss, I can't divulge any information as of yet."

"That's my best friend's house, is she alright?"

The man is about to answer when I hear the slam of a car door and my head jolts to see the burly figure of a man who looks like he's about to murder me.

Nikolai.

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Please forgive how shitty this chapter is, life is hectic at the moment lmao, love ya'll!!!!