Twist Of Fate

Clothes And Looks

"Mus!" I turn my head toward the college parking lot to find Gregg's Audi, parked near the entrance.
"Gregg, what're you doing here?" I ask, jogging toward him.
"Well, I am free all day, so I decided to come and pick you up." Gregg says, taking my bag off my shoulder, as I reach him.
"Nice." As I go over to the passenger side, I notice my fellow classmates and people who I don't even know eye Gregg and his Audi. Some girls give me distasteful looks, twirling their hair around their index finger. I roll my eyes and settle myself onto the warm, leather seats of the Audi. Being disliked is something that I've gotten used to. I migrated to Canada when I was fourteen and since that time till now, a lot of my classmates and school fellows don't like me.
"So, did you enjoy yourself last night?" Gregg says, as he reverses out of the parking lot. Did I? This is a question that I haven't thought about. After Harry and I ended our short conversation, I headed home. Since Gregg was so damn busy with his guests, I took his Honda Civic, and drove home.
"The minutes that I spent chatting with Harry - which were very few - were enjoyable. He's pretty...cool." I say, leaning my head against the window. "After that, I left." Gregg furrows his brow.
"Left? So soon?" I scoff, shaking my head.
"You would've noticed had you not been so busy."
"If I hadn't been hospitable, nobody would come to my future parties." Gregg defends himself. "But forget that. Tell me, what'd you both talk about?" Always one for gossip.
"Nothing much," I shrug my shoulders. "Some woman came and swept him away from me." Gregg stops at a traffic light and looks at me with a quizzical expression. I raise an eyebrow. "What?"
"You sound hurt, and jealous." Gregg says, matter-of-factly.
"Why would I be? It's not like Harry Styles is my boyfriend." Sure I'm hurt that Harry didn't even turn around to look at me again, or make the effort to say bye. However, he's him and I'm me. I'm stupid to think that he would give me a second of his day.
"Sure." Gregg draws out the word. The rest of the ride is spent in silence, while I change radio stations, trying to find a suitable one, with good songs. Finally, we reach my house and Gregg stops the car outside.
"Thanks for the ride, take care." I say, as I get out. I open the backdoor of his car, and grab my bag. As I enter my gate, Gregg honks loudly.
"What?" I ask, turning around. Gregg lowers the window, and leans toward the passenger side.
"What time should I pick you up?" Gregg says.
"For what?"
"For the concert, Mus. Your memories pathetic, eat almonds."
"Which concert, Gregg? My memories not pathetic, you're daydreaming." I know that my friend's insane. However, I didn't know that he's totally lost it.
"The concert that Harry invited us to tonight, remember?" I shake my head. I might actually be having memory loss. "Mus, you've got to be kidding me?! How can you forget about such an important event? Harry invited you and I to a One Direction concert tonight, backstage passes, front row tickets, everything and yet you forget." Gregg looks at me like I'm a child who needs to be spanked in order to be taught some manners.
"He didn't mention anything like that to me," I say. "Message me the time that you'll be picking me up, and I'll get ready." I rush toward the front door. Having a whole can of Coke before leaving college wasn't a good idea. Once the door is unlocked, I run toward the bathroom, dropping my bag near the front door.
********
"What to wear? What to wear?" I murmur, as I shuffle through the clothes in my closet. Harry has given us backstage passes which means that we'll be meeting One Direction. This is one meeting that I don't want to screw up. Should I go casual, or slightly casual and slightly evening? After all, the concert is at night and maybe the other girls will be dressed in dresses and heels? To top it all off, if I go casual and everyone's dressed in evening attire, I'll be the odd one out. God, this is so tough. Groaning, I take another dress off a hanger and just stare at it. This is the toughest decision that I've ever had to make. Hell, deciding a college was much easier. I've never been to a concert and I don't know who to ask as to what to wear. Gregg is a guy and he won't know a thing. My other friends - whose numbers are almost zero - will be of no help. I could go naked. No, not at all, I won't even look good naked. Maybe I should bunk. However, I don't think that I'll get another chance like this. After all, getting tickets and backstage passes from Harry Styles is a once in a lifetime opportunity and I don't want to waste it. The bell rings and I drop the dress on the floor and head toward the front door. Gregg is standing on my doorstep, wearing a dress shirt, with the sleeves up to his elbows and ripped, skinny jeans. His attire looks so effortless, yet perfect. I hate this about men. They can wear almost anything and it suits them perfectly. They don't care about their hair, clothes, shoes, and yet they manage to look sexy and classy at the same time. It's frustrating. Gregg looks up from his phone's screen and raises an eyebrow.
"You're wearing that?" He asks. Throwing my head back, I groan and turn on my heel. "I-I mean it looks good."
"Oh, please, these are my home clothes." I say, looking down at my Bermuda shorts, and sleeveless shirt.
"Oh, thank God," Gregg murmurs. I glare at him, as he follows me into my room. "So, what are you wearing?"
"I don't know!" I bury my face into the closet again. "I wish I had a girlfriend who could tell me what to wear."
"Ask Kate." Gregg says this as if it's the most obvious thing in the world.
"Kate's in Malaysia and it's night time there. She must be sleeping like a log," I say. "Plus, I tried, it went to voicemail."
"Show me some options and I'll try my best to help." Gregg offers.
"Okay," I murmur. I sift through the closet for the hundredth time in an hour. Honestly, I hate myself for doing this. I've never been one to care as to how my hair looks, and what I wear. However, today every single detail about my appearance matters. This time, my hands land on a royal blue dress, that falls just below my knees, and I take it out; holding it against my body. I turn around to face Gregg. He pouts, eyeing the dress.
"No," Gregg says. I throw the dress on the bed and it lands beside Gregg, who's lounging on my bed, without a care in the world. "Mus, you should wear black. That color looks best on you." He's right, anything in black suits me better than other colors.
"Black, black, black." I murmur, as I grab a black shirt, with a skull made on it. We do this routine of me placing something against my body and Gregg saying no, until I show him a black dress, with elbow length sleeves. The sleeves are made of lace, and the back of the dress is also made of lace. It falls till my knees. Till the waist, the dress is fitted and then it falls smoothly and loosely below the waist. The minute I place this dress against my body, and turn to face Gregg, a smile lights up his face and he nods his head vigorously.
"Put that one on, girl!" Gregg exclaims, relieved that I've chosen a dress. "Quickly Mus, because we need to leave in fifteen minutes." I rush into my bathroom and change. There's a pair of black flat pumps that is lying near the bathroom's door. Once I've changed, I slip them onto my feet. My hair falls beyond my shoulders in natural curls, the top part slightly frizzy and the bottom slightly tame. I don't like making my hair, I can't make my hair. So I just leave it as it is and grab my sling purse and phone. Gregg ushers me out, and we get into his car hastily. Now to go to the biggest event of my whole life.