Ava’s POV
It’s the day of the ball and I am sitting in the back of a limousine, dressed in a floor length shimmering gold gown with an open back.
A hair stylist came over earlier today to fix my hair in large, loose curls partially pulled back, with a few curls framing my face.
Lily helped with my make-up, just the right amount of smokey look to make my green eyes pop, with more mascara than I have ever worn in my life making my eyelids feel heavy.
I have been wearing these ridiculous, strappy three-inch heels, that slightly pinch my toes, all day to help myself to get used to them, but I still worry about tripping at some point tonight, especially on the dance floor.
The limousine we are in pulls in front of a brightly lit building that must be at least fifteen stories high, wi
