Warnette Short Stories

Makeover

Guess what. I finally am uploading a story! I am so sorry for how long it has taken me to finally post again. I'll try to get the rest of my stories out in a more consistent fashion from now on. I hope you guys like it!💕

Thank you @warnerstyles for the inspiration for this story!

I open the door to see Nazeera standing outside my room holding a bright orange container. She's smiling at me excitedly as I invite her in. I'm already dreading what's about to happen.

"Makeover time!" She says excitedly as she plops her kit down on the bed. I exhale a deep sigh, blowing a piece of my hair into my face. I've never worn makeup before, but I know that I will look like a clown with it on.

"So, yeah, about that... Why are we doing this again?"
"Because we barely spend time together unless we're planning on overthrowing governments or making fun of Kenji, and it's important that we have girl time to bond."
"Well why does that have to include makeup?"
"Because I never had a younger sister to do makeup on, so this is my chance."

I roll my eyes at her as I plop down in a chair I've set in the middle of the room. I tie my hair back and wait patiently to become a canvas. A plain, boring canvas that needs the help of someone else to be beautiful.

"Okay. First I need to find a good foundation shade for your skin tone," she says, pulling out a glass bottle with a tan liquid inside. "I had to borrow Lily's, so it might be a little too light for you." I just shrug and hold my breath as she puts the sponge to my face.

"So what have you been up to?" She asks, squirting more of the tan stuff on my forehead.
"Same old stuff. I've been trying to learn Arabic, actually, but I kind of suck."

Nazeera smiles at me while she sifts through her bag for a makeup brush. "I bet you're not as bad as you think and, if it makes you feel better, it took me three years until I was fluent in English."
I just nod my head, hoping she'll continue the conversation so I don't have to talk.
"Why don't you say something? In Arabic, I mean."
I scrunch my eyebrows at her, fidgeting with my fingers in my lap.
"Like what?"

She thinks for a moment, trying to come up with a good phrase. I shift nervously in my chair. All of the Supreme Commanders' kids were raised on these things. They all speak an incomprehensible amount of languages along with being well trained in athletics, art, mathematics. Pretty much everything. I guess I just feel like I'm behind. Ever since I found out that I was actually the daughter of a Supreme Commander, I've felt more inadequate than usual.

"Say 'Nice to meet you. My name is Juliette,'" She says finally. "I figure that's simple enough."

I take a deep breath and rack my brain for the particular phase. "Umm... s-saaida bi maarftik. Ismi Juliette?"
"That was pretty good. Who's been teaching you?"
I blush. Gosh, I hate how I blush whenever I think of him!
"Aaron," I reply quietly.
"Oh, don't learn from him. He's what we call ghabiun, or stupid."
That statement causes me to laugh a little as she softly brushes something across my face. It's soothing in a way I didn't expect it to be, getting my makeup done. I close my eyes as she strokes the makeup across my face.

"Is this why you always feel so confident?" I ask before I can regret it. "Because of makeup."
I hear her chuckle and I immediately feel embarrassed.
"Open your eyes," she says as she stops putting eyeshadow on my lids.
I obey and open my eyes to look at her. I don't understand how she's so gorgeous. Her skin is flawless, a dark and rich brown. She always wears the most beautiful clothes. Today she is wearing a tight black, leather top with gold pants that flare slightly at the bottom and a hijab to match.
She spins around once, slowly, giving me a full 360 of her outfit. I feel envy grow in my stomach.

"I know I always wear fancy clothes and makeup but, honestly, half the time I hate it. Half the time, I just wish I was wearing sweatpants and a T-shirt."

I look at her with surprise evident in my eyes.

"How I look has nothing to do with my confidence. I'm confident in the fact that I know how to advocate for myself and for others that can't. I'm confident that I can outsmart the majority of people I know. Sure, makeup makes me feel a little extra beautiful sometimes, but it has no impact on how I carry myself. That's true confidence, and you'll get there one day. It just takes time."

Feeling wells up in my eyes and my chest. I try to keep my voice steady as I say, "Thank you. For your kindness, your friendship, everything."
Nazeera nods as she wipes a stray tear from my cheek. "Don't cry. It will mess up your mascara." I smile at her and wait patiently as she works on the rest of my makeup.

***

"Are you ready?"
"No."
I am standing in front of a floor length mirror with my eyes closed, terrified of what I will see when I open them.
"I'm sure your makeup looks great, but just, not on me."
"Don't be ridiculous. You look great, so just shut up and open your eyes."
I take a deep breath. I'm so nervous. What if I look awful? What if makeup just doesn't work on me? Then what? I'm so afraid that if this doesn't work, then there goes my only shot at being beautiful.

But then I remembered what Nazeera said.
"That's true confidence, and you'll get there one day. It just takes time."

I gather my courage and open my eyes so quickly they take a moment to focus and
wow
My skin is smooth and free of blemishes; soft and youthful. My lids are covered in an orange that makes the blue of my eyes pop like a sunset over the ocean. My cheekbones are high and accentuated in a way that makes me look older and sexy and, lastly, a beautiful cherry red is smeared over my lips.

"I-I look..."
"Stunning."
I just nod my head, still fascinated with what I see in the mirror. For the first time in my life I feel pretty.
Truly and unconditionally gorgeous.

Who wants Aaron's reaction? —>