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Av Someone - 18 september 2014 21:24

jag har inte riktigt något att säga. Men tänkte jag kanske skulle skriva något. Så där är det.

Av Someone - 8 september 2014 21:33

the thrill when running out after a successful cup, together with your boyfriend, hands filled with black sportsbags, stomaches filled with butterflies, air filled with laughters.

Av Someone - 17 augusti 2014 14:06

I love it, Taryn  Southern. Tho, skip the end. I've never really got MirandaSings half crazy Style, that to me, after two ft. videos, is weird. Like "good singing, but wtf are you doing except the singing?"-weird.

Av Someone - 17 augusti 2014 13:44

Thes clehp regt hareh

Av Someone - 1 augusti 2014 12:03

Gissa vad jag köpt. Hermione Granger's timeturner.

Av Someone - 13 juli 2014 22:52

Catching up on Hillywood show. Sorry you guys. I've listen to your parodys almost every night, but not really read your Facebook and stuff, so I'm doing that now.

Av Someone - 13 juli 2014 19:28

Insåg det inte förrän jag lade ut det. Eller, jag visste ju att det var lång, men....Gud asså. #TEENAGELANGUAGE

Av Someone - 13 juli 2014 19:24


You work at a big beauty and make-up company, where many stylists and make up developer fills the working desks with their plans and sketches. But you, you work as an assistant to one of the make up developer. And you aren't quiet comfortable with it. Sure, she's an okey boss, she can sometimes stick a dollar in your hand and tell you to "buy something for yourself" or sometimes she tells you to "sitt down because she doesn't need you running around when she's trying to work", which is the nicest way she seems to know to tell you that you can take a break. But you simple don't like to run to the archive to check if this new color has been sold before, or go after coffee when your your boss is having a "critical moment". That's just not you, and you've talked with your friends at your department about it.

One day, your bosses Calls you up to meet them. Your "personal boss" of course gets out of her mind.
-Where will I be able to find an assistant while she's gone!?
One of your friends walks up to her and pats her on her shoulder.
-I guess you have to work on your own. she says and walks away like a boss.

You hurry up to the floor where your bosses have told you to meet them. Your three "head bosses" stand by the opposite wall. Beside them and two chair turned against eachother is the room empty.
-We have got to know that you Want to move up in this business. one of them starts. And that you would like to be a stylist, not a make up developer, like the one you're working for. Now we can't just give out promotions just like that.
You're slightly shaking.
-You wanna give me a promotion?
One of them leans back and presses the button on the wallphone.
-Cheryl, can you please send him in?
-He's on his way, sir.

You turn against the door when the doorhandle is being pressed down. The boy, with Brown hair, sparkning green eyes, and a smile that could make the whole world faint, enters through the door. Your knees lets you down, but you try to not show it. His smile grows when he sees your reaction, but you give him a angry look, like "What?". He walks up next to you, well aware that he's standing way too close. You know that he knows that your eyes flinching, your fingers making small movements, trimbling in the air, the pain in your lungs when you breath in his smell.
-Harry will be your model. Your test is to put on him make up, good enough for advertising for our company.
You swallow.
-Shall it look natrual on him or shall it be like a girls make up?
The man who just talked looks pissed off, but the man on his right laughs.
-that's up to you. We'll give you three hours.
The men leaves the room, so there's only you and Harry left.
He turns around and smirks against you.
-So what will it be?
You give him an angry look, but he just smiles.
-We'll see.
You look around in the room.
-Did they say if I could use any make up I want? you ask and swear to yourself when you hear your voice shiver.
Harry smiles really big, since he hears it to.
-Nope. He walks over and sits down in one of the chairs. Do you have the Numbers to that assistant? She was pretty hot.
You sigh loudly, and he smiles even bigger. Then it comes to your mind.
-Of course! I can ask Cheryl! You start walking out of the room but stop. Don't you dare leave this room. If you do...
Harry cuts you off.
-What can you do? I have bodyguards that will hunt you down if you do something to me. He leans forward in his chair. Unless, of course, it was something I liked.
You groan loud and leave the room as Harry leans back again with a smile.

When you return after talking with Cheryl, you stop by the door and cross your fingers.
-Please let him still be here.
You open the door. The room is empty, and your heart falls.
-Oh for the love of God!
You turn around and start walking back to Cheryl's office. She looks up with a confused face when you open the door.
-Hi, is Harry here?
-No, why would he be?
-Crap. you say quiet to yourself. I told him to stay in the meeting room, but he left. you explain to Cheryl before leaving her to her work.
-Okey. you think to yourself out loud. If I was him, where would I go?
You think on all the floors in the building and decide that the 5th floor is the one with the hottest women. Harry is probably there, and if not, when he gets there, he'll probably stay to have a closer look.
You run to the elevators. One of them is out of order for the day, because of an important delivery, one is on the bottom floor, and the other two is also too far away to wait on. You groan loudly, and open the door to the stairs. You start walk down, but your eyes falls on the handle and you smile.

The speed isn't high but you laugh, something you haven't done too often since you started here. When the stairhandle ends, you jump off and run around to get on the next one.
When you come to the right floor, you bite your lip and look at the next staircase. But your years of work after orders reminds you and you sigh while you open the big white door with 5 painted on it with a light green color many years ago.

You look over the screens that separates each worker, but can't see him standing anywhere so you start walk along the rows, looking for his brown curly hair and asking your coworkers if they have seen this smirking idiot, who's curiosity will ruin your chance to get promoted.

From time to time you stop, look at someone's work, hover over someone's shoulder, get to know the child that is too sick to go to school but who's mother couldn't find a babysitter so she had to come to work instead. These people, who you have only seen on the big meetings, where the whole building is attending. That you've been calling your coworkers, but that you never really have got to know. They haven't seen Harry, tho, but promise to call if they see him and to keep him there until you come and get him.

You continue your journey, walk the stairs down to 3th floor, and walk around in the lipstick covered department. Everywhere you go, people have streaks of lipstick on their hands, arms, and some even wearing it. You get stopped every second to be tested on, dark purple, a gold shimmerish deep red one, pink like a barbie doll, blue like the ocean at 5 p.m at Argentina's beach.

You almost forget your mission when someone test the ultimate color on your upper arm, right below the end of your white blouse. A lovely mix between light purple and strawberry red. You are chocked over how well the color suits you, which the person who put it on you loudly explain to a coworker. You beg to get it as soon as it's available in stores, but the begging is for deaf ears. They can't hear you. And when you see One Direction on an IPhone chase, you forget all about Lazy On A SummerField, as the lipstick was being named, and start rush around again, because now half an hour has past, and that cute curly haired boy with his seducive smile: gone!

You decide to go up to the 32th floor. It makes you kinda sick because you don't like highs. But furtanatly, it's the highest floor in the building. On your way to the stairs, you come to mind that you maybe should have a system to search after, but then you shrug your shoulders and open the door to the stairs.

In that second, the elevator arrives to the floor and you hurry to slip in before the doors close behind the curvy, blonde woman with arms filled with books, that just went out through them.

When searching through floor 32 you find a napkin with a number and the name Harry Styles on it, in the hand of a passed out woman. Her coworkers doesn't seem to care, and they explain to you that they already have spent half an hour to try to wake her up, and now decided to let her wake up on her own.

You look at the woman. She's pretty, absolutely someone in mr. Styles taste.

She has long black hair, that frames her face like she was a painting. Her eyelids are dark, and shimmer a little bit, her lips are slightly spread, and colored in a perfect red color, like the red strawberry on that necklace you got form an old boyfriend while you were still together, and never used after your breakup.

With an envying glaze, you study her clothes, she must earn well. She wears a black, tight dress, that is so short that, you wonder how there can even be any fabric left after it going over her bottom. Her hand wears many rings, one of them you can identify as an egadement ring.

You look at the note again. This is the lowest thing, and you don't really wanna do it. You sigh and reach down the pocket in you skirt. You read the numbers and slowly press the screen on your phone. You put it to your ear and wait. One, two signals. It goes up to five signals before the other person picks up.
You almost lose your temper.
-Where the fuck are you?! you scream into the phone, causing the lady by your side waking up, but faint again when she sees the name on the napkin.
-Don't swear, you know I don't like it when people does. he answer with a hurted tone.
-No! you say. I really don't know. What makes you think I know?
He sighs and you hear him take down his phone and holding it against his leg while he walks. You are boiling inside but you wait until he talks again.'d' you get my number? he says with a smile in his voice.
-You gave it to a girl on 32th floor. you answer sarcastic.
-I did? he says confused.
-Yes, you did. Black hair, smoked eyes, black dress.
-Oh, right. Damnit. he says with a amused hint in his voice. I didn't realize that you would find it, should be more careful with that.
-Okey, back to the part where you answer my question. you say, a bit pissed. Where are you?!
-Well. he says. I could say I'm on the 11th floor, but that would be too easy.
You smile in triumph.
-Floor 11, is where I'll go.
You run against the door to the stairs with your phone pressed to your ear, ignoring the elevators. It goes faster to run.
- And you don't go anywhere! you tell him, while you pass the door in to floor 31.
-Oi! Who said you was my boss? he ask, and you can hear him walk over a stone floor. You gasp when you remember that the flooring in the office landscape is a carpet, not stone floor. Which means he's either walking on a platform somewhere in the staircase, or, that he's in the lobby, on his way out.
-Harry, I swear to hell, if you move a single meter more, I will crush you, no matter what your bodyguards will do to me afterwards.
He laughs, and his steps continues.
-Brave. I like that.
You bite your teeth together, as you pass floor 25.
-Not brave, just careful about not to lose my job. you tell him as you start sprinting down the next pair of stairs.
He laughs again, and you sigh inside. Why did you fall in love with this idiot in the first place? Why did you become a directoner as soon as you saw the band, and why did you fall the hardest for Harry? All these years, when you wanted to meet them, but now you got this. One of your favorite boys ruining your life, through his search for women.

When you crash through the door, everyone looks up from their work. You soon realize that he didn't listen.
-That son of a...! You rush out to the stairs again but sink together against the wall.

You lift your right hand to your face, and shake your head. Why are you running around like this?

You turn your face to the ceiling and close your eyes. You will never reach your dream, to be a stylist, helping singers to fix their make up, to look perfect for their fans.

Your phone buzz in your pocket and you pick it up. "What do you say you, your father and I visit that nice restaurant by the food market, that you like so much, this Saturday? Love, Mom."

You lean your head against the wall and smile.

Your mom always suggest that you go there, since you expressed your love for it when you where 11. You love seeing people walking out from the store right by it, with their hands filled with bags and stuff like the handle of their bike or the little hand of their sons and daughters.

In the late evening light, they seem to belong together, like beads on a string, in one big family. When you are done eating, you always sit and stare, with you head leaning in your hand, on all these brothers and sisters. The shadows gets longer and your parents pat you on your shoulder to say goodbye. You wake up from your trance, you say goodbye, but when you pick up your bag and jacket it's already midnight. You walk out in the stream of people and join these brothers and sisters, become a sister, yourself.

Your thoughts are being cut of by a crash on the other side of the door. You quickly get up and open the door.

Papers and letters are flying everywhere. In the middle of the mess lies the mail man's assistant, the one that has been here for a month. Everyone is staring at him, and no one seems to actually understand what happened.

Then the elevator doors close and everyone start to move. Two older women help him up, and one girl, about 25 years, runs after water in the department's kitchen.

He gets a chair, and everyone ask how he is, leaving their work to nothing. You stand in the outer corner of the mass, and listen to the puzzled explanation to how this happened.

After a while, you slowly pull away and leave.

You try the number again, but now, when he knows who is calling, he doesn't answer.

You put your finger on the floor list and with closed eyes you point at a number. 29. You think a little on using the elevator, but after what happened to the boy on 11th floor a second ago, the thought doesn't allure you specially much.

You walk up the stairs again. Answering your mom's text you walk very carefully. "Sure, why not. I meet you there?" The heel misses the step, and you almost fall, managing to grapple the handle.

You groan loud and then bend down to take your shoes off. You really can't see why you are wearing this to work every day. It must have come to you in a movie or something, that assistants wear a tight, black pencil skirt, white blouse and high heels.

But it's just no good, and you hold them in your hand while walking the rest of the stairs.

It's a wonder you aren't dripping of sweat. When you enter the mascara department, you're dying for a glas of water, and you feel like you will pass out on the floor any minute.

You take a cup from the top of the water machine and fill it with sparkling, clean water. It runs down your chin when you drink, but you ignore it.

After emptying the cup and sevral more, you look around the big office. It's pretty quiet, a few workers talking about the new collections name, but else, not much.

Then you hear a man's voice. It comes from one of the booth farest from the elevators. You see red and start walking in that direction, not caring where the mug in your hand went.

There's a few guys working in this building, but not so many off them have a british accent, and neither does many of them know the lyrics to "Isn't she lovely".

You round the screen and cross your arms over your chest.

The couple doesn't see anything than each other's eyes and lips. Harry stands leaning over a cute brunett, whispering the song. His smile show that he knows, oh how he knows, that this girl adores him.

You stretch your neck and look around. The others in the room doesn't seem to care that a cerlebertiy is seducing their coworker. They work on normally, checking photos for the comersial, adjusting colors before testing and just simply loitering and drinking coffee.

You turn your attention back to the two persons in front of you, who still haven't moved a bit or even noticed that you are there.

You start taping with your foot, and when he has stopped singing you turn to the girl.
-Excuse me, I just need to borrow your boyfriend. It will go quick, he'll be back before you end your day. you say with a friendly smile and hook arms with Harry.
You pull him away to the elevators, and then he finally realize what's happening.
-I told you to stay in the room. you shout at him, with a small voice. Why didn't you listen?
He gives you a smile that shows that he doesn't care that you just pulled him away from the world's cutest girl.
- I was bored, so I went out on adventure. he says, like it was the most obvious thing.
- You went out on adventure. you repeat and drag your hands over your face. Of course, because why not?
The doors to the elevator open and you point at it.
-Please just go in and stay there.
Harry gives you the most splending smile and steps in to the elevator. You let out a surprised laugh, as you didn't actually believed he would do it. You walk in after him and press the button. The doors close and the elevator start moving.

You lean against the wall and close your eyes. Your head is pounding like a hammer hitting a nail. You press your index finger and thumb against your nose bridge. The elevator music is all that sounds and for a split second you fear that, somehow, Harry has left the elevator. But when you open your eyes he's standing with his back against the back of the elevator with his phone in his hand, looking at you. When his eyes meets your he looks away and start messing with his phone. You close your eyes again.

When the elevator sound that you are up, you give Harry the most angry look, before exiting.

You walk together back to the meeting room, and he quietly sit down in one of the chairs.

You sigh, and start picking up the brushes you got from Cheryl. He sits perfectly still and let's you move his head as you wish.

For many minutes you work in absolute silence, but suddenly he takes your hand.
- Are you still mad? His eyes actually looks sad and his eyes sparkle of sorrow. You lower the hand he's holding and answer.
- Not really, no. You try to continue but he holds your hand still. You sigh.
- Harry, I won't be able to finish in time if you don't let go off my hand.
He slowly loses his grapple around your wrist and leans back again with closed eyes. You continue working, but after a while you can't hold it back anymore.
- You know, you got a really beautiful face. you say while filling in his brows.
He opens his eyes.
- What?
- Yeah, it would be good advertising for our company. you continue jokingly.
He laughs and his eyes sparkle.

The rest of the time you work on his make up, talk, and joke.

You once get up and leaves the room, locking the door, under his high protests, and come back with coffee.

He tells you about what Louis once did to Zayn when they where on tour in Asian, and what song he likes the most from the new album.

You make him laugh, without purpose, when you tell him about your last boyfriend, who made you swear to yourself to never date again. It's incredible how much you two get done in one hour.

When there's a knock on the door you just became done, and you hurry to open. The three men study Harry closely, and when they don't look, he winks to you and puts out his tongue.
- Well. one of them say. It's a well-done job, but unfortunately, we've seen better. He scratches his beard and look at you. I'm sorry, but we can't give you a promotion, not when you have this much left to learn. Your old employer will gladly have you as assistant again.

They all nod to you and then leaves the room. You look at the door as it closes and then feel an arm around you shoulders.
- Well. Look at it this way. They could have fired you. Harry says.
You turn around.
- Oh yeah? you say with a little smile. Nevermind, I just have to work a little more. And have a model who doesn't run away. You give him a slightly push on the shoulder. He smiles.
- That's the whole thing you know. He says. The test is not only for seeing how good you are with brush and color, it's to see how good you can work under pressure and with distractions.
- Everyone does it. They check who's your idol, and then ask them to be the model. That's why they're the best in this business. The lads has done it as well, been model I mean.
You look at him with open mouth.
- So you mean this was just a cheap trick? You made a mess to make me fail? Why? Why did they tell you to do that?
-Well, the thing wasn't to make you fail. Harry smiles. More to put pressure on you.
- But you made it so hard. you complain. It's like you wanted me to... you stop yourself.
Harry smiles.
-Well, if you get tired of working here, just come to me. I'm sure we need another make up artist. He says and winks. Then he walks around you, opens the door and leaves.


Someone: Simply Crazy Minded! ;)

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