Vorfreude

Chapter 24

Armani's thick accent and lingering musk smell had me incredibly conflicted for the hour it took him to do my hair and makeup. His dark, creamy skin was an easy distraction to stare at every time he yelled at me "Forward! Forward! Face go forward!"

I still question how some people are blessed with such clear skin. If I don't have a blemish, I have a scar from previous acne or my freckles bleed through on my makeup, resulting in less than perfect skin. When I build up enough courage, I ask Armani what his skin care routine is and he is quick to spit back "soap, water!" The way he speaks is like he is yelling at you, but by the end of the session, I can tell this is just the way he associates.

None the less, Armani is a very sweet man and tells me many things about him without me having to engage in an actual intellectual conversation. I appreciate this. When he is done, I refuse to look at myself. I trust that he did a wonderful job and when Andy walked in to inform us that it is time to depart, he looked at me with awed eyes and said, "you are beautiful."

Andy escorted me from the hotel to another black and deeply tinted SUV that was parked in the circle complex, awaiting us. On our way out, the same group of young girls from the night before were in the lobby. It didn't take much begging for Andy to agree on letting me stop and take pictures with them. He said if anything "that'll be good for your publicity."

I begin to question what kind of publicity i even have? Until now I really haven't had any publicity.

I felt so.. selfish, I guess you could say when the elevator doors shut last night and I wasn't able to pose for the rosy cheeked girl that desperately wanted my attention. That thought soon faded from my mind when other activities begin pulsating, but I am a human that could understand her excitement.

"Where's Oliver?" I ask as that reminds me, he's been vacant. Climbing into the car, myself in the backseat and Andy opposite of me, Andy mumbles some unknown language before giving me his finger and answering the phone.

"No, we're on our way," he says quite rudely.

"He should be there. No? Oh yes. Okay. We'll see you soon."

When he hangs up, I am told Oliver left early to clear his head and was already waiting for us at the bookstore. I was almost a little worried. Doing what I did with him before Armani showed up really took a lot out of me. I'd just like to be clear and state I have never in my life been as daring as I was in that moment.

Oliver brings something out in me that I've never had to face before. I'm not sure if it's a good thing or if I should be completely terrified. For the time being though, I'm going to put everything to the side and not think about it.

I settle for the quiet that resides between us as we make our way to the destination. Each minute that ticks by is another amp in my anxiety. I feel the anticipation building up inside of my chest. I don't even know what I'm getting myself in to.

Who am I anymore?

It's an understatement to say I was the girl who stayed home and wrote random, adolescent shit while everyone else went out and partied. I wouldn't go to social gatherings unless I was forced to and you'd never catch me at anything that included a large crowd, except concerts. Concerts were and still are the only place my happy little introverted self is completely content with being at. Now here I am in a car on the way to a large bookstore to purposefully interact with others. This is more than a dream come true. This is actually a living fairytale.

I guess being an introvert wasn't such a bad thing. I can't imagine what my life would be like if I was outgoing.

As the car comes to a halt, I look up from my lap.