A/N:

WHOA! TWO UPDATES IN LESS THAN 24 HOURS.

You guys better be thankful.

Disclaimer: How many times do I need to say this? I am not Veronica Roth, the lovely author of the Divergent series, so I do not own anything in this fanfiction except my ideas. I don't think Veronica Roth would write a fanfiction for her own trilogy.

I wake up this morning early. I need to go to school today. I am not letting some boy stop me.

I check my nightstand clock, and it read 5:27. Great. Christina should be up getting ready. I don't bother calling her, brushing my hair, or getting changed. I get up, grab my phone off its charger, sling my bag over my shoulder, and head downstairs to my car, grabbing my keys off the counter. I don't bother grabbing something to eat, I can just count on Christina to feed me. I step outside and hop into my car, instantly regretting not bringing a jacket. I shrug off the cold and turn my key in the ignition, driving to Christina's house.

I pull into her driveway at exactly 5:32. It is still dark out, so I can see the light on in her bedroom window. I honk my car horn once, not wanting to wake up her family. This gets her attention, and I see her look out the window. I wave to her from inside the car, and I notice her face light up even in the dark. I get out of my car but don't bother locking it. It's a relativity safe town. Christina opens her front door.

"Tris!" she exclaims. "Why are you here?"

"I- " I'm going to regret these words. "I need a makeover," I say. If it's even possible, her face lights up more.

"In! Come in!" she says a little too loud for my taste at this early in the morning. I reluctantly walk in. "Aw, darling. You look…awful."

"That really boosted my self-esteem," I mumble.

"Sweetums, you look dreadful. Your hair is a mess, your eyes are all puffy…wait. Beatrice Prior! Were you…crying?" she asks. She leads me to her room, which is all lit up with her mirror lights and her nightstand light and her ceiling lights.

"Yeah, I kinda was." She sits me on her bed, putting on a serious face.

"What. Happened. Why weren't you in school yesterday? Is it the same reason?" I nod at her last question.

"Four…he- he- he…" Telling Tori in no way made it easier to tell anyone else. "F-Four cheated on m-me," I stutter out. Silent tears drip down my face. Christina crushes me in a hug.

"Oh, my God! I'm so sorry! He was always such a bastard…I forgive you completely now for ditching our group of friends. I'm so, so, so, so, sorry, Tris." She talks a mile a minute. I pull away from her hug.

"It's fine," I lie, wiping the tears away from my eyes. "Really." Not. "I…just need a makeover. Make me look completely different. I don't want to remember the time I spent with him." She smiles big.

"Sit in The Chair, girl! I'm already done with myself. Woke up at four in the morning to look this drop-dead gorgeous."

"The Chair" is nothing special. It's just a big director's-looking chair that sits in front of a huge light-up mirror. Like I said, nothing special.

"Okay, okay, completely different," Christina mumbles to herself. "The highlights will have to go…I suppose you'll need my clothing…This color would totally make her eyes look ten times brighter."

I sit in The Chair and stay silent. I know absolutely nothing about makeup, and nothing I say will help in this matter, anyways.

She starts by getting a hairbrush and brushing out my tangled excuse for hair. I make a few grunts and groans as she tugs on my hair, attempting to get the knots out. Once she's done with that, she grabs some blonde hair dye - from God knows where - from a drawer and starts applying it so my nonknotty hair. My green highlights disappear almost instantly, and it makes me feel a bit better. One memory with him erased. When my highlights are completely gone and my hair looks a natural blonde, she starts waterfall braiding it down the right side of my head. The way her fingers move so nimbly is almost inhuman. I can tell that she must've had a lot of practice. Then again, this is Christina. Of course she had a lot of practice. When the braid is done and looking beautiful and perfect, she takes out a huge leather bag. Probably filled with makeup. I watch her in the mirror in front of me as she dumps out the bag on her bed. The amount of lipstick and eye shadow and mascara and eyeliner she has is absolutely insane. She picks out a thin brush a little tube of something and comes back over to me. When she stands in front of me, she tells me to close my eyes and I do so. The stuff in the tube must be eyeliner. I feel the thin brush smoothing over my top eyelids, and then Christina tells me to open my eyes and look up. I suppose she's applying a bottom layer. I only applied the top. She smiles at me when she's done step four of ten thousand, and I attempt a weak smile back. She walks over to the pile of makeup on her bed and walks back with what I guess is mascara. She tells me to close my eyes again - and to keep them closed until she tells me to open them. I feel her lightly brushing my eyelashes, then a few seconds later I feel a big brush on my cheekbones. Then I can feel pressure on my lips as she applies what I can only hope is lipstick. When she finally tells me I can open my eyes, and I met with someone looking in the mirror who is not me. It looks like an actual girl.

"You like it?" Christina asks me, a huge smile on her face.

All the makeup she put on me looks one hundred percent natural. She winged the eyeliner at the edges, and made it fuller on the outside and thinner more towards my nose to make my eyes look incredibly striking. The blush highlights my cheekbones and in all the right places, making my face appear thinner. The shade of lipstick - a light pink - makes my lips seem fuller. My hair cascades down the right side of my face in the gorgeous waterfall braid while keeping all hair from blocking my face, and overall, I look…

"Beautiful," I say to her. She squeals and half walks half jogs to her closet, and pulls out an outfit for me. She hands me a thick strapped tank top, which is the color of my eyes - blue-grey. The shirt has a low neckline, and will expose my raven tattoos along with any cleavage I might show. She hands me high-waist white shorts, with five golden buttons lining up vertically where only one button should be. She tells me that I have to tuck the tank top into my - her - shorts, then shoves me off to the bathroom. I quickly strip and get changed and look in the mirror. The girl before me is even prettier than she was before. She looks confident and independent. Like she doesn't need a man to weigh her down. Then I realize…

That girl is me.

I open the door and Christina squeals again.

"You look so beautiful, Tris! Four is so going to want you back!" she exclaims.

I roll my eyes.

"Yeah, like I'll ever let him have me again," I tell her sarcastically. She claps her hands.

"That's the attitude you need to use today! Now flaunt your stuff and grab your bag, because it's time to go, go, go!" She hands me my combat boots and I shove them on. They totally pull the outfit together.

Christina's rubbing off on me.

We sprint downstairs and hop into her car. She tells me that I can pick up my car later after school. I keep thinking I different I am acting and how different I look.

Good, I tell myself. Four obviously didn't like how you were before. You needa change.

Then change I shall.

You go, girl! Show 'em that you don't need no man.

Oh, shut the hell up, Inner Christina.

A/N:

So, I don't actually like/wear makeup, so I have no idea how the makeup part went.

PM me your ideas, and comment your reviews!

~thatrandomdivergent