Klaus
They felt surprisingly comfortable on—presumably a sign of how much I hated every type of heels considering their entire purpose was to elevate me while making sure I was uncomfortable all through.
Next, I was presented with a purse that could probably only fit my phone and a tampon if I forced it in enough and, as a final touch, a piece of jewelry with cold silver interlocked chains and a fading yellow rock in the middle was draped around my neck.
The stylist stepped back and smiled in satisfaction but I was sure she was only doing her job. After all, she had been paid a lot for this. "There!" she exclaimed dramatically. "Even Mr. Sica cannot ignore the perfection you have become." She win