"Cut the shit babe, your parents hired me as your personal body guard so fuck up with the attitude..."
~
When the presidents daughter gets accepted to college on the other side of the country, the last thing she wants is a personal body guard follow...
"Breathe within, to be without Reveal it all to me, reveal it all"
-
*Emily's Point Of View*
I woke up to my set alarm blaring into my ear.
"Shut the fuck up" I said hitting snooze on my alarm repeatedly. My eyelids soon fluttered slowly back down until my eyes shut. I snuggled back into my covers and began to slowly fall back to sleep.
Why did I even set my alarm?
Oh shit.
I shot up out of bed looking at my alarm clock seeing I was supposed to get up 20 minutes ago.
I quickly slid out of bed running through to my closet, browsing through my clothes to find the perfect outfit for a day to be meeting a mysterious coffee boy and a personal body guard.
I found a cute black spaghetti crop top throwing it on with some washed out ripped jeans and some airforce ones.
I ran to my bathroom running a brush quickly through my hair before beginning my simple and quick makeup routine when I couldn't be bothered or didn't have enough time.
I put on some concealer under my eyes, lip balm and some mascara before looking over my whole look smiling at myself in satisfaction.
I looked cute for getting ready in under 10 minutes.
I took a Snapchat posting it on my story;
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I glanced at the time on my phone seeing that it was 9:50am and I had to be at the coffee shop at 10am.
I grabbed my wallet, quickly texting Ron if he could drive me to Starbucks now, and made my way downstairs.
I walked outside to see Ron in the car already waiting. And no. It wasn't a typical limousine that drives around the president that you see in those stereotypical movies. It was actually just a Mercedes Benz G wagon. It was the car I was going to get once I got my license and luckily was going to be transported to Los Angeles for my body guard.
The only thing suspicious about the car that you could tell it carried the presidents daughter was the tinted windows.
I hopped into the front seat beside Ron, him instantly driving down the driveway, out the gates and in the direction of Starbucks.
"So Miss Rose. Should I wait for you to get your drink or come back later?" He asked sweetly. Ron was an elderly man in his late sixties - early seventies.
"You can come back later if that's okay? I'm just meeting a friend" I asked shooting him a smile.
"Miss Rose it's my job to drive you. It's definitely okay" he said making me giggle.
