“Wakey, wakey!”, someone –Lizzie– screamed.

I picked up my phone and saw that it was just 6.30 AM. I felt like strangling Lizzie.

“Lizzie, it’s freaking 6.30 AM and the interview is at 9.30, why did you come this early”, I asked, getting up tiredly from my small bed.

“Um, Gisele, we have roughly two hours, which is not even enough for all this. I wanted you to get enough beauty sleep, but for now, shower”, she said authoritatively, dropping a bag that looked sus***iously like it was from Princesse (fake mark, deal with it)

“What’s that”, I asked curiously, going towards her.

“It’s your surprise. Go shower then I’ll show you”, she said, pushing it so I couldn’t reach it.

I said, taking my towel and toiletries and

had finished showering. I rushed back to my room, pretending I

time I reached my apartment, or rather room, Lizzie had laid an outfit

freaking expensive their clothes are”, I said, reproachfully

you refused. My parents proposed to help you finish college but you refused. Any f***ing thing I offer to you, you reject it. I’m not taking no for an answer this

said was true. I didn’t like taking help from people. As an

hurting your feelings and I didn’t

there for you. And you’re not going to be indebted to me because I’m

smiled and wiped the tears that had managed to escape, then said excitedly, “So what’s

stared at the house in shock. It was really big but had a homely feel to it. I had arrived at Mr.

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