A/N: Second fic posted in a day! I'm on a roll. Yay!


"Alice, please!" I begged, my feeble struggles going unnoticed by said vampire as she pulled me toward her bathroom, which was, sadly, larger than my bedroom. I have to admit that scared me a bit. "I don't want to be your little doll! I'm seventeen if you haven't noticed!"

"And I'm one hundred and four years old if you haven't noticed. Bella, I'm perfectly capable of giving you a makeover, I think." She smirked as she rounded a corner, me in tote.

I highly doubted that, and I told her so.

"We'll just have to see how it goes, then." Alice then feigned hurt. "Are you saying you, Bella Swan, do not trust me, Alice Cullen?"

I pursed my lips tightly together. "Yeah, that's it. Or you could also say that I, Bella Swan"--I tugged against her grip and probably bruised myself--"do not like makeup in the least, while we're on that matter. It's both artificial and cheap, and it's only for superficial people." By now we were in the bathroom and Alice plopped me down on a cushioned stool. I glanced at my surroundings and was displeased to find that every available surface was covered in the hated products.

Alice examined me closely, like she was a sculptor and I was her newest piece of work. "You're too pale," she stated as she grabbed a shiny, purple, plastic-y bag and unzipped it.

Finding this ironic, I gave a derisive snort of laughter that I attempted to turn into a cough. Alice raised an eyebrow. "What?"

"'You're too pale,'" I quoted. "Yeah, you should be the one to talk."

She rolled her tawny eyes exaggeratedly. "Bella, you really have a bad sense of humor, then. You are obviously pale for a human. Not for a vampire, dummy." She playfully whacked me on the head. I noted that the bruise count would now officially be up to two. This was why I considered makeovers painful.

"Pain is part of the beauty," she said. "You should be immensely grateful that I'm doing this for you." Alice started applying foundation on me. It clung to my skin, sticky and wet. I managed to heave a sigh.

"Oh, hush up," she scolded. Alice moved on to the eyeshadow. I had to admit, she had an impressive collection. How did the Cullens live with her? She was sweet as ever but I didn't think I could do that. Of course, she didn't play Barbie Bella with them.

She finally decided on a plum-ish shade and a lilac undertone.

"Close your eyes," Alice commanded and I felt the brush sweep against my eyelid as soon as they were shut.

She was at that until I could stand it no longer when I noticed my leg had gone numb, presumably a long while ago. "Alice!" I snapped in an impatient tone. "Hurry it up!" I knew for a fact that she was not a force to be reckoned with, but neither was I when I was irritable.

"Jeez, Bella! Just think..." Her hand stopped working and I dared to open my eyes. She made a wide gesture. "When you go downstairs, Edward will think you're stunning and will want to kiss your lips off, which I will not let him do because I spent half an hour or so doing your makeup."

I tried to suppress a groan, but before I could, Alice demanded that I shut my eyes again.

Soon she moved onto mascara. "Ugh! Alllliiiicccceeee!" I practically shrieked as I felt water collected in my tear ducts. "You got mascara in my eye!" I made a move to hastily swipe it away. Before I could, though, Alice swooped down upon me and snatched my hand away.

"No. Now stop being such a baby. Look up." I did as I was told. Thankfully, that process didn't take long.

"Blush!" Alice practically sang as a scratchy brush scraped against my cheek. I hate makeovers.

"Almost done?" I dared to ask. My palms hovered by my ears in case the answer was no, in which case I would press them against said appendages and sing, "La la la, I can't hear you!" like there was no tomorrow.

Her response, however, surprised me. "Yes. I just need to curl your hair; I already have an outfit picked out."

I protested lipstick and Alice complied, and before I could finish my impressive case on why I should not, she covered my lips in gloss. "And don't lick it off," she warned in a menacing tone.

Another half hour passed by as Alice ripped hair from my scalp as she combed, curled, teased, and hairsprayed. There was an audible sigh of relief when Alice led me back out of her bathroom into her bedroom, which I saw was littered with clothes that cost probably thousands of dollars.

She stuffed me into a yellow spaghetti-strap top that would have fit a four-year-old and--again--bruised my arms while shoving them into knit shrug that I had to admit, was pretty cute. That was something I could see myself picking out at Port Angeles with Jessica and Angela.

I was then ordered to step into a pair of darkwash skinny jeans that cut off all circulation in my legs. Great. A pair of summer-y pumps were placed onto my feet which boosted my height by at least two inches. I had the creeping feeling I would fall in these.

Alice showed me the final result in a full-length mirror. I gasped for the person staring back was not me. If it was, then I looked like some Brazilian supermodel. Sure, maybe I was beautiful, but...

...I would never go through this again.

"Thanks, Alice!" I chirped.

She looked smug. "Now let's go show Emmett and Edward downstairs. I can hear them watching the television." I complied.

Uncertainly, I started down the staircase, teetering uncomfortably in the pumps, while Alice urged me along at a faster pace, eager to show off her work.

Just as I was reaching the last step, my foot caught on something and I, well, tripped. The last things I saw before I became acquaintances with the floor were Edward, a bemused look plastered on his face, and Emmett, his eyes wide. Alice just groaned behind me as I flew off the stairs.

Emmett's obnoxious guffaws didn't help. "You're hilarious, Bella!" he chuckled.

"Happy to be of service," came my muffled reply.

This is why I hate makeovers.


A/N: Haha, I like this one a lot. *Eh hem* Excuse my poor attempt at humor. Now, review, review, review! I hope you like it as much as I do.