a/n:

The dress in the banner, not the collage shows what im talking abt later in the chapter. And just pretend that's not Rhianna (you'll see what Im talking abt lol)

DAVINAS POV:

My skirt billowed in the soft wind. The ball machine whirred up, I tightened my grip on the racquet. The machine threw out a ball that zipped right at me. There was a thrilling vibration as my racquet crashed against the fast ball. There's nothing quite like the hum in my body, the focus in my mind, as I'm running around the court, hitting shot after shot, doing what I love.

I hit my final ball and bounced off the tennis court feeling elated, knowing today would be an exciting day. It was the Met Gala in New York City, my second one.

After a brief discussion with coach about tips for the next tournament, I took a taxi to my New York City apartment. Throughout the whole taxi ride I blared loud 90s rap through my headphones so I wouldn't fall asleep.

I stumbled into my house and threw the tennis bag I was holding onto the leather couch.

Familiar scents of eucalyptus from the aroma diffuser embraced me as I entered my room and peeled off the sweaty tennis skirt and sports bra. After taking an ultra quick shower, I was too tired to change out of my bathrobe. It took the rest of my energy to walk to the bed. I had been awake since 5 playing tennis; probably not a smart choice considering beauty sleep was needed for tonight. The second my head hit the pillow I was knocked out into a deep, calm sleep.

All of a sudden there was a ringing noise. Was I going to heaven? No it was just the doorbell. My eyes flew open from the noise of the doorbell reverberating in my ears. I sauntered over to the door, hearing excited chatter as I approached closer and closer to the front door. Four eager faces were outside.

"Hi come on in!" The four of them entered and started heading to my bedroom. There was Cinna, Flavius, Octavia, and Venia.

"Not in there today, we're doing this in the living room," I said. Cinna shut  the door of the bedroom. I offered to carry their makeup bags to which they all dumped the bags on me. There was most probably rocks in there. I trudged after them into the living room.

My vanity table was organized. I pulled a tray with cups of waters and small lemons from the fridge and put it on the table. They started opening the bags, unleashing the madness of various jars and brushes.

"Why here?" Octavia asked.

"Vogues coming and I don't think they want to see my messy room, and I'm not about to clean it," I admitted with a sly grin.

"So you moved your whole ass desk in here just so you didn't have to clean your room?"

"What else was I going to do. Actually clean my room? I literally live alone." I stated. They chuckled. My back was still a little sore from heaving that heavy desk at the wee hours of night yesterday.

"That's so exciting!" Portia said. She was laying out her arsenal of makeup brushes on the desk. Being that they all had an affinity for high fashion and jewelry, Cinna whipped out the infamous bowl. It was a mint blue Tiffany and Co. box with little porcelain birds. That bowl was something that caused my mouth to drop the first time they did my makeup and hair. The bowl is used to hold all of their jewelry. It was filled to the brim with thousands of dollars of jewels and metals as they unloaded their numerous bracelets and rings.

"I know, I'm so excited for Vogue!" All of a sudden the doorbell rang.

"Speak of the devil," I said as I made my way to the door and welcomed the guests in. There was a lady and a man holding a big camera bag and tripod. The guy set up the tripod and camera facing the vanity chair. I exchanged formalities and shook hands with the lady. She was dressed in business attire, but wore a warm smile. There was an irony in that I was wearing a bathrobe and my face was slimy green with a face mask, while here she was pretty much dressed by Marc Jacobs. She told me they were going to take a time lapse of the process and then do a mini interview.

"Davina we're ready." Venia said. I plopped down onto the chair. The four of them immediately got to work. The guy from Vogue stayed behind the camera the whole time and the lady came and went from the apartment; tending to endless phone calls.

Portia was attempting to flirt with the cameraman, while Octavia and Venia were gossiping. Every now and then, I'd give the cameras an update if the process. Cinna, my favorite of the group, was quiet, except for every now and then to tell me position adjustments. It was such an alive atmosphere, I didn't have to say a word. I just soaked up the excitement and let them work their magic on me while also listening to the weak pickup lines and the tea about brat celebrities. I hoped this time lapse was going to be with no audio.

My eyebrows and legs got waxed. I only winced a little: I was pretty used to waxing and Octavia always made sure to do it fast to avoid the prickly pain.

Portia put a sparkly silver spray at the tips of my black hair and curled it; then, she weaved in silver tinsel. It gave my hair a whimsical, shiny look, as if there was actually angel dust in it. Venia put thick white winged eyeliner. She then gave me the tube so I could tightline my eyes. She applied heavy amounts of makeup on my face and proceeded to add sparkles that made my dark brown skin glow.

While Venia and Portia were putting the final touches, my dresser from Alexander Wang appeared. Off the bat, I was intimidated by her. I had only met her once before. She was holding a briefcase and was flanked by security, whom were standing outside.

She said sternly "Davina, as you may know, the theme for this year is gods and goddesses, so we were discussing angels and we finalized the sketch, here's the dress and I added a headpiece."

I had seen the dress on facetime but now I was going to see it in real life. An assistant of hers rolled it out. The dress was on a mannequin. My jaw dropped in awe. I had no words. It was adorned with jewels and sparkles, so much so that I was barely able to see the off white colored fabric. The Vogue cameraman shifted to the dress and began taking pictures and videos of it.

It had long sleeves with a gigantic "bat wing" style. The bat wings were so large that they looked like angel wings. The dress reached the floor and trailed for about two feet behind the mannequin, the dress also had a plunging neckline. She handed me the headpiece which was equally as beautiful. My hair team put it on as I carefully wore the dress. I looked in the mirror and smiled, feeling beautiful, not a feeling that was normal for me.

My phone pinged. I looked down to see a notification from Bubs. He wanted to know how my dress was coming along. Bubs aka Harry Styles. We have been best friends and pen pals for the past ten years. He recently moved to NYC so now I got to see him much more and it was the best. It had been the first time in a while since he texted me. My phone pinged again. This time it was a Snapchat  notification; from Harry. (Scroll down) I opened it and saw a mirror picture of him. I snapped a selfie of me with my tongue out and my hair pulled up at odd angles thanks to Portia styling it. I captioned it "met gala ain't ready for us😎"

We were both trying to fix our friendship. The "incident" popped up in my head but I shoved it out. It was my night and I wasn't about to let negative thoughts ruin it.