Hailey was nervously biting her almost grown out fingernails. Her last class, English, was dragging. She was at the very edge of her mind, deciding whether it was worth it to ask the batty Mrs Macmillan to shut the hell up. Probably not. When the tedious class finished, she literally ran for the auditorium to help set up. She had put her change of clothes – her jeans and her Blink 182 shirt – in Dylan’s guitar case and was worried she wouldn’t have time to change. Even though she had a good hour and a half.

She was grumpy as she sat at the mirrored booth in the second dressing room. Zoë was fussing over her hair and make-up and trying to dress her up into a pretty little princess.

“I don’t want to look like a beauty queen, Zo,” Hailey had muttered in her annoyance. She hadn’t heard from Quil and didn’t think he was coming. Uncle David most certainly wasn’t. He had an important date with his number one fan: the super hot Toshiba laptop.

Zoë drew her from her stony reverie. “The emo black eyeliner thing is so not stylish. I think it’s pretty…. trashy. If I’m gonna be your stylist, you better start believing me…” she trailed off.

Hailey moaned for her to drop the weapon she had just brandished. Mascara is not my friend… Mascara is not my friend… Mascara is not my friend…, she chanted in her head. Dammit.

“Look, I know you have gorgeous lashes, but they need a little…” she flicked her wrist, bringing the mascara wand upwards in a heavy sweep across her lashes. Hailey blinked furiously and tried not to let her eyes water. Mascara is not my friend…

She whined and complained until her tiny blonde friend dropped the hair straightener. She did not see any point whatsoever in straightening her jet black hair. Hailey loved her hair. It was her pride and joy, short, spiky and messy at the back with a thick side fringe hanging curtain-like over her brow. It was much too short to even bother straightening. And it was dead flat anyway. Zoë just wanted to play stylist.

“Well what do you want to look like, Hailey?!” she exclaimed in frustration. She must say, she was not the most cooperative of make-up subjects.