After snapping at Billy last night, I hardly slept, just kept wondering if we were truly meant to be. I eventually wake up, and begin my morning rituals.

I shower, snap my fingers to get my hair done (it just goes into a bun, with some unruly strands down at the sides... Ick), and put on my daily 183 layers of makeup that somehow doesn't look clumpy or thick, and never has to be replaced... well actually, I own the Ulta Beauty commercial set.

I walk into my closet and hunt around for my morning outfit.
Eventually, I get fed up searching, and settle on some black underpants that are considered 'booty shorts' in today's messed up world, a vintage flower patterned crop-top that my great-great-great-great-great-great-great-great- grandmother wore when she was young and starting the trend, and a mid-arm black cardigan, paired with 15 foot high strappy heels, silver sparkly hoop earrings, a matching necklace and bracelets, and use a special goo only found in the bottom of the ship that brought the Durmstrang students to Hogwarts back in book four, to coat my nails in. They wind up finishing off as perfect French nails with a my index finger coated in silver sparkles.

I also take a HUGE dump (I had Chipoltle for dinner... Uh-oh) practice my kissy face in the bathroom mirror, and yell a slew of nasty curses because I nicked myself while shaving my legs, which I never normally do.

Yes, I did it dressed. How was I supposed to know it wasn't normal?

*5 hours later...*

I host a dramatic exit of the bathroom, with steam rolling out of the door, surrounding me, and rock music blasts from random speakers.

I do a nae-nae down the stairs, to my kitchen, and have my under treated and taken- advantage- of maids cook me a breakfast worthy of a cereal commercial.

Then, there's a knock at the front door.

I scream, and try and use my ex-ray vision to see who it is, but it can't stretch 2.3 miles, which is the distance from my kitchen to my front door.

I also try my brain-reading skills, and see if I can link a face to the thoughts, but it won't reach that far, either.

I send my bodyguard Big Philly to the door, and he comes back with Ariana in tow.

"Bae!" I squeal, and run up ans wrap my arms around her, and I feel her relax in my hold.

She starts sobbing, and of course I start too, and start to wipe her eyes with my thumbs but then, the horrific happens.

Her eyes start leaking black goo.

I wave my hands around frantically, and shriek and scream for my nurses to come and save her from the menacing eyeball liquid.

The nurses look at me as if I'm crazy, but I insist, and they complete several medical procedures.

Ariana stops them, after a while.

"Gurlfriend, this is what happens to us normals when we cry. Our mascara drips."

"OHHHHHH" I say, and then shrug my shoulders to mask my embarrassment.

We talk for awhile, she tells me how much she loves me, I tell her how much she's an idiot and I only stay with her because nobody likes me, we just talk sweet, bonding words like that.

Eventually she has to leave, because she is scheduled to fight with with 200+ Harry Styles fans in ten minutes.

I finish my entire breakfast, and go down to my personal movie theater and watch Cheetah Girls for some time, and then there is another knock at the door, but this time the person doesn't wait for Big Philly to open it.

Billy strolls in, completely calm, while I'm stewing in my little puddle of hatred. I invisiblise myself, but he sniffs me out and reveals me. Aw man.

"Come on, muffin. We need to go now." He says frantically, scooping up  my heavy, gigantic body of 78 pounds into bridal style, and carries me out the door.

"What? Why?" I ask, frustrated. I get so upset, in fact, that I choke him with my hair.

He gags, but then says simply,

"You'll see."