I was in panic mode.
The apartment was a mess. There were shoes and dresses of different colors and design strewn across the floor. A pile of purses worth more than my tuition was lying in the corner of the room. It was the night before Louis' party and Ellie, my roommate, was helping me pick out my outfit, as well as hers, for tomorrow night's event.
We had created probably hundreds different combinations of the articles of clothing at our disposal and Ellie had photographed pretty much all of them. Perks of having a damn talented photographer as your best friend.
We were both exhausted by the end of the show and my self-esteem was sinking as I continued to overthink, as usual.
I couldn't help myself from imagining his daring eyes or his naturally wind-blown hair. He was a character out of a romance novel. My very own fantasy.
Of course he wasn't mine, at least not yet. That Grace girl could have been his girlfriend for all I know and I could've completely imagines his flirtiness.
I realized that the two of us are complete strangers except I know that he is a famous celebrity and gorgeous. I honestly have no idea what I'm getting my well-dressed self into.
With all of these thoughts racing around my head, Ellie and I plopped down on our vintage honey-colored couch in unison. We both stared blankly at the television in front of us, and the sound of my stomach growling broke the silence. I turned sheepishly towards Ellie and we shared the most brilliant of ideas.
Thirty minutes later, El and I were downed in blankets, stuffing our faces with Chinese take-out and Ben and Jerry's Half Baked ice cream (thank God this exists in France), and watching Love Actually.
Boy, did we clean up pretty good.