Bathroom Break...with Niall?

Chapter 3

picture of bree at her shoot to the side!

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“And that, ladies and gentleman, was the boy band On-“

With a groan, I rolled over and slapped my hand on the alarm button, not ready to get up. I stretched my arms out behind my head and let out a little morning hiccup. I glanced at the clock. Ten.

Moving slowly, I got one leg out from under the covers. Then an arm. It was progress! Lazily, I pulled my whole body out from under my oh so cozy comforter and dragged myself to the bathroom.

I looked in the mirror and let out a little cry. My hair looked like a rat’s nest and mascara from one eye was smudged everywhere. Throwing my hair into a quick messy bun, I brushed my teeth and washed my face with Dove soap. Since the ladies at the shoot would be doing my hair and makeup, I didn’t bother to put anything on.

I walked over to my closet and pulled it open, stepping inside. I looked among the many racks of clothes I owned thanks to designers whose clothes I modeled. I threw on a pair of coral shorts and a loose, see through white shirt with a grey tank top underneath. I selected a long gold necklace with an orange pendant at the end to go around my neck and I shoved my feet into cute white sandals.

I walked to the kitchen and made myself a simple breakfast- bagel with butter. I leaned against the counter as I ate, predicting how today would go.

“Oh darling, that was just fabulous, and if you don’t mind, I booked you another shoot…”

I rolled my eyes and threw the rest of my bagel away. I loved modeling and everything, but Richard always took it into his hands to decide which shoots I should do, designer and everything. I loved him, but I wanted to model for things that I actually liked and had an interest in. Like not prancing around in a tiny stripper bikini all day.

Wiping my hands, I grabbed my car keys. I’d taken the taxi yesterday because I hadn’t had time to run to the garage to get my car, but I was on time today. I decided on taking the stairs for even a tiny bit of exercise, and I made my way down to the garage below. I walked over to my red Mini Cooper and opened the door. Settling myself inside, I grabbed a pair of Gucci sunglasses (compliments of a shoot), and slipped them over my eyes. I felt very chic in them and my boho outfit.

Once I got to the shoot, Richard ran up to me and ran a dramatic hand along his forehead.

“Oh honey, you would not believe what happened! The make up artist quit out of nowhere, and they didn’t have anybody! But thank the Lord that the shoot happening next to us was finished with their make up. The woman is an absolute doll and volunteered to do yours!”

“That’s great!” I exclaimed, faking interest. I personally didn’t care about wearing makeup, I liked myself better without it, but whatever was easiest to get me through the shoot I went with.

Richard grabbed my hand and pulled me over to the vanity mirror and introduced me to a young pregnant woman.

“Bree, this is Lou, the wonderful lady who’s just been so generous as to do your makeup. Sit down, honey.”

“Thanks a lot for doing this; I appreciate it. Bree,” I said, sticking out my hand. She shook it and laughed.

“No worries honey, I didn’t feel like watching the boys anyway. Lou. Nice to meet you.”

She then stood in front of me, tapping her chin. She turned around to the cart filled with makeup next to her and pulled out the necessities I guess.

“You have flawless skin, so I’ll just do eye stuff for now,” she said, dusting my eyes with a gold shadow.

“Okay, thanks,” I said, glad she wasn’t making me look like a Barbie. She continued to poke and prod my face while we both stayed quite, but not an awkward silence. Finally, she leaned back.