It had been a morning full of mishaps and Brea was practically on the war path as she stomped through town in a pair of black Louis Vuitton stilettos, her hand running through her blonde locks. Already she had woken up late, accidentally sent her column to an ex boyfriend instead of her editor, discovered her favorite top had been bleached, then there was that strange voicemail about an interview with her fathers campaign manager. The last one actually gave her chills when she thought about it. They had asked for Brea Montgomery to call them back for a statement, a last name the blonde had long ago shed.
Stopping as she approached a street light, she was still lost in her own thoughts, âat least my morning canât get any worseâ she growled under her breath, no sooner getting the words out of her mouth before a passing car nearly hit her, only avoiding her by sliding into a puddle that splashed cold dirty water all over the blondes clothing. âYou have got to be kidding meâ she spat, glaring at the driver as he sped away, âlearn to drive you fucking moron!â Brea yelled again, knowing at this point she looked as if sheâd completely lost it. Taking a deep breath in, she tried to calm herself, but the unsteadiness of her legs as she heard the snap of her heel set her off. âOh come on!â the blue eyed girl screamed, nearly in tears as she took both shoes off, throwing them towards the trash, almost nailing someone close by in the head, âsorry..â she breathed out, not wanting to move out of fear of what else was going to go wrong for her.Â