#Chapter 111: Makeup Misery

Hannah “Right this way, Luna Hannah. Patty will handle your hair and makeup today.” I walked into the makeup room at the stage assistant’s directions, my stomach already in knots the moment I saw that familiar pair of shoulders and that familiar head of hair sitting in the chair. Of course Noah was here already—of course he was sitting in one of the styling chairs. Of course I wouldn’t be able to get through today with minimal contact. He looked ridiculously put-together, his dark hair neatly styled and a crisp suit hugging his broad frame. I could just barely make out his face from the reflection in the mirror, and… Goddess, he looked handsome, too. Swallowing hard, I forced myself to ignore him as I slid into the chair beside his, flipping open a magazine and pretending to be engrossed in an article on some fashion designer I had never heard of. We hadn’t spoken in two weeks—not since I had run out of that restaurant after vomiting in the trash