NATASHA
—11 months later—

   "Hey I think this one would be good!" Clara chirps, as she holds the burgundy red dress over my body.
"Nope. Next." I put the dress back on the hanger. I hated red. Absolutely hated red. But I had to, for the Christmas party. Clara thinks that red is the sexiest colour hands down, but personally it's definitely purple. Clara's shoes click on the floor and she walks over to another dress.
"Alright Tash, I know you'll like this one" She holds another burgundy red dress over my body again, except this time it was sparkly and had a few folds on it. She taps it eagerly on me. "Just get the damn dress and get this over with. It looks good."
"I'll just get a Santa costume, stuff it with a pillow, buy a two dollar Santa hat, and call it a day, okay? Maybe buy a stick on white beard to put the cherry on top" I rolled my eyes, even though I knew it was part of the dress code to get a sexy red dress. Minus the sexy.
"Santa's costume is red. It should be allowed!" I took the dress off of Clara's pale fingers and stared at it, and hesitated a small mutter of the word: "fine"
"Ian would be drooling at the mouth when he sees you wearing this" She winks. One of the employees walked over to us and asked if we were doing fine. Clara said she was doing fine but I wasn't doing fine because I couldn't find a dress. And if I couldn't find a dress in the next twenty-four hours then I'll be showing up to the party either in pyjamas; or completely naked; because I am a stage four procrastinator.
"You know what Clara, at this point I might as well just not show up? I mean I can't even find a simple red dress for god's sake." I tug at one of the dresses on display. There was no response. "Clara where are you?"

I turned around and Clara was interlocking hands with a headless mannequin she found in the middle of the store. "Sorry I got carried away." She unlinks her hand from the white headless mannequin, wearing a suit and tie.
"Of course you would do that" I muttered under my breath. And then my eyes locked onto the most beautiful work of clothing I had ever seen. Too bad I couldn't afford it though. It looked almost like a quinceañera dress. I was still holding onto the dress that Clara picked out. It wasn't that bad. I'd just have to wear it for a few hours and suck it up. "I'm gonna go try on this atrocious dress!" I said, emphasising specifically on the "atrocious".

Actually, the dress wasn't that bad after all. In fact maybe this colour did look a little bit good on me. I puked a little at the sight of it though. The glitter came off and stuck to my fingers, and as much as I tried rubbing off the glitter from my fingers, it just wouldn't. I couldn't tell if I liked it or hated it, and asking for Clara's opinion will always end up in an: "Oh my god you should totally get that!" Or a "You look so good!" Even though she was staring at her phone while pulling a thumbs up. I could've been wearing the most vile and grotesque outfit ever, and Clara wouldn't admit that it was. I opened the changing room door, and to my surprise, instead of Clara's hand wrapped around a phone, it was wrapped around her mouth.
"Tash I swear to fucking god if you don't get that dress right now I will buy it myself. It looks drop dead gorgeous—" she inhaled, "you look drop dead gorgeous!"
"Really?" I twirled around. Maybe this was my only option before the actual party. Even though I hated red. It wasn't that bad. Or maybe it was that bad, or maybe it was that good. Clara's reaction said enough. "I'll get it alright. But right after this goddamn party I'm returning it."
"No give it to me!" She demanded.
"Okay! I'll give it to you. It matches your hair colour so perfectly anyway."

Clara had naturally dark brown hair. But she box-dyed it red. It's been months since she'd re-coloured them and the brown roots have been growing rapidly, leaving a four centimetre gap of brown hair between her scalp and her red locks.
"My hair is feeling festive." She giggled, "are you gonna stand there and look like effortlessly pretty or are you gonna buy it?"
"Sit in my bed and effortlessly cry." I scoffed, closing the door behind me and putting my casual attire back on. I came out holding onto the violently sparkly dress that Clara couldn't take her eyes off of, and payed a hefty amount for it. RIP to my bank account.

"Maybe I should just sell it instead." I swung the bio-degradable bag around my wrist.
"eco friendly bag huh." Clara snorts, "at least it's not as bad as paper straws for boba"
"That sucks. I hate boba too!" I chuckle.
"You're just sad and miserable Natasha" she shook her head.
"Am not!"
"How could you hate boba! Oh and let's not forget when you said you hated squirrels"
"Squirrels are just rats with big fat fluffy tails—"
"What about flying squirrels?"
"Still rodents." I said, opening my driver's car door. At this point, Clara was my passenger princess. She still hasn't gotten her licence yet. I slowly put pressure onto the brake pedal.
"You know maybe you should hire me as your private chauffeur already"
"What's a chauffeur?" She widens her eyes.
"Like a person who drives you around everywhere" I laughed. Maybe I should just pursue chauffeuring. "Where's my money at?"
Clara reached into her pocket and handed a one dollar coin to me. "That's all I got on me. Take it or leave it"

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"Hey Nat!" Ian cheerfully said. Ian is my boyfriend. We've been dating since the start of this year, after we met on a dating app. Not gonna lie I thought I was being catfished because this man is on a different level of attractive; and we've been happy since. "You excited for tomorrow?"
"Yes! Although I do want your honest opinion on something."
"Of course."
We both went upstairs and I wore the red dress that Clara insisted I should buy, and then give it to her after the party ended. Ian's eyes drifted from my face to my thighs and didn't say a word.
"Never seen you wear red."
"Ian. Is that a good thing or a bad thing."
"It looks— wow."
Ian came close, and wrapped my jet black hair around his finger. "It's a great thing. You should wear red more—"
"Hell no."
"Ooookay then. I guess not" he chuckled, "but it definitely suits you."
"I'm only wearing this dress once; and strictly once; for this goddamn Christmas party"
"I assure you, you'll catch everyone's attention." His lips perk up on one side.
"Have I even met your whole family yet?" I play with his curly dark brown hair.
"I certainly haven't met yours." He laughs, and I display a startled look on my face. "Hey don't worry, they're nice people."

﹋﹋﹋﹋﹋﹋

Today is the day of the Christmas party. I already had my dress laid out and the heels that I was gonna wear; in my mind. Oh god. I have to try impressing Ian's parents. It doesn't help that we met on a dating app. I paced around the room trying to look for my sparkly red lip gloss, in which I failed finding because hell, I probably haven't touched that lip gloss since the 17th century. It doesn't matter anyway, because I had 12 hours to spend contemplating whether I should just show up in red lingerie or the dress. Nope. My impulsive thoughts can't take over. I mean, technically I could wear it. It is red after all. But nope. It is freaking lingerie, what am I thinking? In doing so, I paced around the room again, trying to find the forbidden eyelash glue.
"I made breakfast." The door squeaks open, and Ian is holding a plate with pancakes on them. "I've left maple syrup on the counter."
"Thanks babe." I smile, following him down into our kitchen.

"My brother is visiting too; for the party. He has a break."
"I have never ever met your brother. What's he like?"
"Annoying, annoying, annoying, and annoying."
I let out a small giggle, as I dug into the pancakes. "So I'm guessing he's younger than you?"
"Nope. Older; by four years."
"Oh so he's twenty five."
"Yup. I mean he's not always annoying. Probably just towards me. He is a bit nonchalant sometimes."
"Ah. So the exact opposite of you?"
"But I guess he's talkative sometimes. To people that he doesn't dislike." Ian laughs, "You could say he has multiple personality disorder."

﹋﹋﹋﹋﹋﹋

Now there was only 2 hours before the party. I still haven't found my lip gloss, and neither have I found my eyelash glue. Fuck, fuck, fuck my life. I cannot live without false eyelashes. I might as well invest in eyelash extensions. I found myself pacing around the room again, and I reached under my wardrobe to try grabbing onto something that was in a cylindrical form.
"What are you doing Natasha?" Ian laughs, pulling me off the ground.
"Trying to find my fucking lipgloss and my eyelash glue." I scoff and then whisper, "I'm more worried about the eyelash glue."
Ian reached under my vanity and found the eyelash glue in seconds. "There."
"Thanks. I guess I'll just wear lipstick." Red lipstick. I got that lipstick from my auntie when I turned eighteen. I never wore it. Might as-well.

My dress and my makeup looked awesome and Christmasy. And Ian was obviously looking handsome as he always is.
"Are you ready to go? I bet my parents would love you."
"Yep all good to go." Ian grabbed my hand and opened the door for me.

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