Preparation

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4 days later...

"Wake up, Sleepyhead!", Michael says.

"What?", I ask.

"The designer who we booked is coming today.", he says.

I moan. "I need an Advil.", I say.

"You can't take it on an empty stomach.", he says. "At least drink something. I went to Starbucks and got us Frappuccinos."

"Uhh, dude, give me a hug.", I say.

He hugs me tightly and I peck his cheek. Then he helps me do morning hygiene. Then he helps me to the closet.

"May I?", he asks.

I nod. He takes my pajamas off. Then he helps me wear a gray hooded long sleeved crop top and a white sweatpants. He puts me on the bed and wears a light blue hoodie and black sweatpants. He sits next to me on the bed and we drink our Frappuccinos. The designer comes and we sit in the reception.

"My name is Layla Hill.", the designer says. "Ms Garcia and Mr Jackson, here are some pictures where you can choose the clothes.".

"Call me Joyce, please." and "Call me Michael, please.", we say at the same time.

She gives us the pictures. I choose a beige spaghetti strap maxi dress with beige sandal heels.

"What did you choose?", Michael asks.

I show him the picture.

"That's sick!", he says.

"What did you choose?", I ask.

"I'm thinking of choosing this one.", he says and point at an outfit that contains: a red button up shirt, black pants, a black buckled jacket with a red armband and black ankle boots (AMA 1981).

"Whoa! That's hot!", I a say.

"Did you decide what you're going to choose?", Layla asks.

We nod and show her.

"May I please take the sizes?", she asks.

We go up to the room and she takes our sizes.

"These'll be ready in two days.", she says.

"Okay, thank you.", Michael says.

She goes away and I sit on the bed. I manage to lay there by myself. I squeeze my eyes shut.

"Can I take an Advil for God's sake. I can't anymore.", I say and moan loudly in pain.

"Okay.", he says and gives me an Advil and water.

I take it and keep fidgeting and moaning in pain.

"Joyce, should I call the doctor?", Michael asks.

"No. He won't do anything.", I say. "I need a morphine.", I joke and start laughing but still in pain.

Michale laughs and holds my hand.

"I'm sorry you have to go through this.", he says and kisses my hand.

I pull him next to me and hug him feeling his warmth makes me feel better.

"You are strong.", he says not breaking the hug.

"You're making me strong.", I say and stroke his hair.

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