Sugar Rush || Completed

{ 27 } creme brulee

{ 27 } creme brulee

Jasmin ends up doing my make up for me on Saturday, no surprise there. She goes with what she calls a bold liner and dark cherry lipstick. I'm also glowing a lot and she had to explain the concept of highlighter to me when I asked why. My dirty blond hair is now wavy in a half up half down look. I opted for a pair of nude pumps and a thin necklace. I look fiercely elegant in a way you'd expect me to look if I was walking down a red carpet.

Jasmin seems to have the same idea too as she's taking a bunch of pictures for me. She keeps gushing about how stunning I look in a way that's uncharacteristic of her but also strangely in her own style. It takes 20 minutes of posing and pictures before I head out and into the taxi.

The drive to the hotel where the event is being held only takes about 35 minutes but it feels closer to hours. I bounce my leg and gently play with my hair in the backseat. It's so bad that not even phone games distracted me properly enough.

The antsy feeling only goes away when the hotel comes into view. I pay the taxi driver and thank him for the ride before carefully stepping out of the back of the car.

There are black ropes framing the entryway of the hotel guiding me to a pair of open doors. There is a wait staff member by the door as well who introduces himself and leads me to a lobby down a hallway.

Once I enter the room, I'm greeted by lots of well dressed people wandering around the room and talking to one another. There are servers around holding platters of pastry samples. Dinner tables are dispersed among the room though only a handful of people are sitting down. At the front of room is a platform with a microphone and a few men in suits are discussing something by it.

It takes a few seconds before I remember that I'm standing in the middle of the entryway and hastily move away. I've drawn a bit of attention but luckily one of the servers strolls by me allowing me to turn my attention to him.

"Thank you," I mutter as I grab two samples from his tray.

I gravitate away from the center of the room, trying to keep my dress from blowing around my ankles. It seems with any movement my dress is able to flow about giving me a princess photoshoot aura. And it may be in my head but it does seem to draw some attention.

I'm absentmindedly gazing at the podium, which now only has three men in suits going over note cards when someone taps me on the shoulder.

"I thought I recognized you," the voice said before I turned around to face him. "I didn't know you were going to be here," Luis continues. I'm surprised I didn't quickly catch on the fact that someone was approaching from behind or the fact that it was his voice. My general attitude was that no one was going to know me here and I could just get away with silently admiring all the baking legends here. I wasn't going to do anything to compromise my once in a lifetime invitation by overstepping my humility.

But now, Luis is in front of me for the first time since the day we made Rice Krispie treats, wearing a clean cut black pinstripe suit. He opted for a bowtie instead of a long one in a powder blue color. I'm relieved and slightly jealous at the same time about his presence. Luis is a face I recognize amongst celebrities but it also means we're still at the same level of success. I'd like to know when we're going to escape this game of one up. There has to be a day when one of us is better than the other.

"How did you expect to find out? Definitely not by me singing to you like a showoff," I say, trying to find something to do with my hands. I notice he has his hands in his pockets and before I can stop myself, I mimic his stance. It takes me a few seconds to stop searching for space in my pocketless dress and I just pass off my movement as smoothing down my dress.