#makeup problem

am raccoon </3

Note: Viva looks like Anne Hathaway. Here is a picture of her outfit:http://www.polyvore.com/cgi/set?id=40379183

Viva’s POV:

I stood there, silent, frozen with shock and fear, fingering the old, gold locket that hung around my neck. I felt like a caged beast, stuck in a store full of screaming fans, and even as I thought that I heard the screaming in the store start. They must have just opened up the doors.

The screaming snapped me out of my trance, and caused the warning signals in my brain to go haywire. I took deep breaths and forced myself to calm down, and my head stopped pounding. Locking the lavatories door, I decided that since I was in the lavatory I was going to fix my makeup like I had first come here to do, and I would figure out the rest later when I was more used to the awful screaming that was coming from outside of the lavatory doors.

As I turned from the door I realized that I was holding something, and saw that my broken heels were still in my arms. I spied a chair by the doorway that lead into the main part of the lavatory from the entrance, so I dropped my shoes there and continued on to the mirrors and sinks that I guessed were waiting in the next room.

When I walked through the doorway the first thing I saw was how awful my whole head looked in the mirror. It was disgusting.

The hair that had been so beautifully done by my hair stylist Victoria was a mess, the comb she had put in it to hold it up falling out and the hair knotted and in clumps. The face that Benjamin, my gay makeup artist, had taken forever on this morning despite my protests that it was just a formal family breakfast, was a horror. The foundation was totally gone, but that didn’t make much of a difference because my pale skin had virtually no freckles or marks on it anyway. The real horror was the eye makeup that was smeared all the way down my face from the tears that I had rubbed with my skirt, and the bright red lipstick he had so meticulously applied that was wiped down to my chin.

Looking down at the skirt of my ruffled creamy colored dress, I noticed black, grey, and streaks of red smeared down the front from wiping my face with it while I cried. I sighed. The dress was extremely expensive, over six thousand American dollars to be exact, and it didn’t look like the makeup was coming out anytime soon. I knew I couldn’t fix it, so I just decided to ask Eleanor about it later.

To Grandma Eleanor was just my nanny, but to me she was like a second mother I could ask about anything, and tell anything to. I loved her as much as my real mother, and my real mother loved her as well. They were close friends, and everything mother told me when she had the time to call or write I told to Eleanor, and she the same.

Since I couldn’t fix the stains on my dress, I focused back up to my face. I hadn’t brought anything with me, since I thought that I would be safe and sound back in the car with Steven driving me home by this time, so all I had at my disposal was water, hand soap, and paper towels.

I thought for a second, listening to the girlish screams of the fans and was instantly hit with a brilliant idea. I was going to rub all of the makeup off of my face, sneak out of the bathroom to wherever the One Direction boys had gotten ready for their signing, steal some makeup to cover up the swelling that crying had given me, and find Uncle Simon so he could take me to Steven and I could get out of this awful place and eat some lunch.

Taking off my earrings and promise ring, I stuffed them into the small pocket that Eleanor had sewn into the bosom of it, just like she did to all of my dresses in case I got sick and needed somewhere to put my medicine and tissues. I pulled the comb out of my hair and stuffed it in the pocket as well and pulling all of the other pins out of my hair and letting it fall in natural curls down my back. I grabbed some paper towels and moistened them, putting a tiny bit of soap on to get off the thick lipstick and began to scrub. Surprisingly, I was able to get all of the makeup off of my face in less than five minutes, which was a record time for me when Benjamin had been working on my face. He loved to cake on the makeup. Personally, I would rather wear as little makeup as possible, but I was always overruled by Monique and Benjamin. They went insane over my pale skin and dark eyes and hair, and were forever trying out new ways to give me some color.

The face that stared back at me was swollen and puffy with the tears that had been streaming down my face. My hair wasn't that bad, but my eyes were red, and when I gently ran my fingers under them they hurt to touch. I sighed, and forced myself to not start crying again from the horrible way I both looked and felt. I needed to just get out of here as soon as possible and hopefully I would never see any of the boys or their fans ever again.

I turned away from the mirror and started towards the door, remembering to pick up my broken red shoes from the chair so I could find a suitable place to throw the away later. Unlocking the lavatory door I closed my eyes and took a deep breath before opening it and stepping out into the back of the store.