Acumen: Riddling Life

41. Florence, Italy

Day 59

My feet still hurt from all the walking. We only sat when we were on the train, if Arianna allowed us, because she wanted to have the perfect shots for her channel. We didn't even eat proper food, not that I'm complaining. I would choose gelato over lunch any day. A huge statement coming from me, since the only edible item with that status for me is french fries.

Today started from Pitti Palace, crossing the lake and visiting every tourist attraction up to Galleria dell'Accademia. Might I add, it was one of the most awkward videos Arianna has ever persuaded me to be in the frame with her. The girl has no shame when it comes to judging a statue's penis, facing a camera being shot by two guys.

Busy fussing in her makeup bag, she lets out an approving sound as she finds what she's been looking for. "Okay, straighten up," she faces me.

I obey as she leans to me and applies a coat of lipstick. With a satisfied smile, she pulls away and takes in my appearance, the result of her past forty-five minutes' hard work. "You look hot." She giggles, and heat rushes up to my face.

"I don't feel good about going to a club," I mutter, avoiding her gaze.

She rolls her eyes and walks to the bed, plopping down on it and putting on her heels. "Isn't this year about doing different things?"

"Yes, but not necessarily this drastic change. And honestly the first party I went, served me enough." I rub the back of my neck, careful not to ruin my hair Arianna spent considerable time styling. Shocker note, you can style short hair!

"I know, Adi told me what happened, but I promise nothing like that will happen," she assures with a grin. She stands and readjusts her tiny dress, strides to me, offering her palm.

I glare at her and she giggles. I stand up and pull down the tight skirt she forced me to wear. It's too damn short. I can't even move my legs without worrying it'd slip higher and reveal more skin.

"Don't do that." She swats my hand and goes to her suitcase, picking up a shoebox.

"I told you I can't walk with something that doesn't reach to my mid-thigh,"

"Girl, if I had that body, I would've walked around naked," she states and turns to me, opening the shoe box.

I roll my eyes as she holds out the ridiculous black heels for me. My guess is on three inches.

"I'm not wearing that." I cross my arms in front of my chest.

"Oh my god Eleanor, you're gonna kill me tonight, I bought these for you." She places them on the ground. With unnecessary seriousness, she includes, "Now be a woman and put these on,"

I titter at her comment and shake my head as I take a step backwards.

"You can't wear that skirt with sneakers!" She whines and pouts with her best puppy dog eye imitation.

I glance away, pressing my lips to a thin line. "I can't walk in heels,"

"Those are the unimportant details." She waves her hand, dismissing me.

With reluctance, I put on the shoes, keeping my balance with the help of the desk.

She beams at me and locks her arms with mine. "And now we practice," she announces.

That's what we do for fifteen minutes. She helps and supports me as we pace up and down my hotel room. Before remaining aside, offering tips while calling me at least three times a robot walking on jelly.

After we are both pleased with my progress, I trudge to the bathroom to see the final result.

As I stand in front of the mirror. For a wild second, I don't recognize the girl staring back. Arianna has done wonders. Smokey eyeshadows, neat and perfect, curled hair with a silver beret pinned to it. I can't remember the last occasion I didn't have my glasses while going out. My black silk cowl tank top causes my eyes to seem almost black, and it stands in stark contrast to my pale skin. I adjust the neckline to cover higher up my chest but it's useless, too much skin.