A/N: Okay, I just re-read LEGACY by Kate Brian, and honestly, I just had to write a bit about if Sophia was a caffeine-high as Portia was in that one chap, about the Legacy Invites. I think that'd be really funny.

"Soph?" I shoved my way into her room, beaming. Noelle followed, dragging a lost-looking Taylor by the hand. "We're heeeeeere!"

Sophia shot up from her bubble chair, almost spilling the venti Starbucks iced coffee she held in her doll-sized hands. "Noey! Emmy! Tay!" she squealed, hugging Noelle and I. She waved at Taylor, who looked more than a little confused. "Hey guys. Happy Friday!"

Taylor smiled shyly. "Um, thanks for inviting me?"

"Np," Sophia said, batting a hand through the air. Her pupils looked like pinpoints. "Any time. Now. Guess the theme! Guess! Gueeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeess!"

Taylor blinked. "Um," she said again, pushing up her nerdy glasses.

"Gueeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeees!" Sophia repeated, sucking on the long green straw again. She looked wired enough to power not just her house, but the entire city.

"Makeover," I finally said, after the room fell silent.

Sophia bit the straw in irritation. "Mah-deeee! I wanted Taylor to guess!" She bounced up and down on her heels, sucking on her iced coffee the entire time. The thing was almost empty, but I knew she had her Starbucks mini-machine all ready to make more as soon as she was done.

"Sorry," I said, shrugging. "Okay, look. Can we get started? I think she's a definite spring, no?"

The other two stared at Taylor, whose brown eyes grew enormous. "Um, what?"

"Clothes!" Sophia said, depositing her empty cup in the trash and whipping out a new (full) iced frappucino from the Starbucks coffee machine. She whipped open her "Spring" closet and beamed like a game show hostess on drugs. "Let's see…"

I entered the closet first, and quickly headed to the back. At the head of the closet, Sophia was explaining the layout of her closets to Taylor.

"See, I have a closet for each season. And each closet is sorted the same way. Stuff I've worn, in front. Stuff I never touched, in the way back. Stuff I thought about wearing, but never actually decided to wear, in the middle. On the left in the middle and back, stuff that still has tags. On the right, throughout the whole thing, the more expensive stuff. On the left of the front, the less expensive stuff."

"You have a Louis Vuitton purse on the left," Taylor choked. "Please tell me that was misplaced."

"No," Sophia said without glancing up. "It was under a thousand, and therefore was not all that expensive."

From the corner of my eye, I could see Taylor's jaw drop. Ignoring her immature shock, I yanked out a white baby-doll t-shirt with a hood. "Cute, right?"

After a moment of deliberation, we paired it with a denim mini and shoved it off to Taylor. "Here. Go change. Bathroom is the big white door with the sign that says 'Powder Room' on it."

Taylor took the clothes obediently, ducking out of Sophia's huge closet shyly. We heard the bathroom door close.

By the time Taylor re-emerged, we had already picked out a month's worth of outfits for her and laid them out on Sophia's big light pink lounge chair. Each was perfectly designed and everything, and they fit super-skinny Taylor perfectly. I knew Anna wouldn't have this much ease: her person was chubby, and Anna and her Avril-wannabe friends were anorexic-skinny. The thought made me giggle.

"So, how terrible do I look?" Taylor grimaced as she emerged from the bathroom, careful to avoid looking into the 360-degree full-length mirror in the corner of Sophia's room.

"Are you doubting my style?" Sophia demanded, chomping on the straw for emphasis.

"No," Taylor said quickly. "Of course not! I'm doubting that I can fit into anything that you guys do."

"Yeah, well, look in the mirror," I said, gesturing towards it. Noelle shoved her in and shut the door, so she could see herself in full 360-degree view. "Pretty, yes?"

"I don't know…"

"What?" Sophia pout-frowned. "Why not?"

"I can't see."

"What? Why?" Noelle demanded.

"My eyes are closed."

"Oh for…" I scowled and shoved open the door.

Taylor stood there, fists clenched shut, arms glued to her sides, eyes squished shut.

"Hey, Taylor?" Sophia asked as she took Taylor's thick-framed glasses off of her face.

"What?" Taylor asked without moving.

"Do you have contacts?" Sophia was spinning the glasses on her finger now.

"Yeah, but I hate wearing them. I really don't like to," she muttered, tipping her head down so her scraggly hair dangled in front of her face.

Sophia dropped the glasses and stomped on them with her cherry red Jimmy Cho cork-heel pumps. "Well, now you do."

Taylor cringed at the sound of breaking glass. She opened her eyes a little, just enough to see what had happened. When she saw the pile of shattered glass under Sophia's adorable shoes, she choke-sobbed, "You broke my glasses?"

Sophia glanced down. "Yeah. Think so. She bent down gracefully and picked up the mangled frame. "Do you reaaaally wanna wear these?" she asked, dangling them by one twisted arm.

Taylor's jaw dropped wider before she snapped it shut. "No, not really, I guess," she managed, still in shock. She took the frames back, frowning sadly. "These cost my mom one hundred fifty dollars."

"I'll pay it back," Sophia said, pausing to sip from her coffee again. "And trust me, it's worth it. This skirt is four hundred alone, and I will not have my stuff worn with tacky, overpriced crap."

"Four hundred? For about two inches of fabric?" Taylor shook her head.

"And your shirt cost six hundred. Now will you just look at your reflection already? You look fab," Noelle rolled her eyes.

Taylor glanced up. I walked behind her and pulled her hair back, tying it up with a hair tie so she could see better.

"Fight acne, Taylor," I said. "Wear your hair back. The products we put in your hair are a little acne-causing, so try not to spray yourself in the face with anything other than Evian face mist, kay?"

"I don't have Evian face mist, whatever that is," Taylor said. "And wow. Do I really look like that?"

"Yes," I grimaced. "Ever heard of Nair? Or tweezers?"

"Or makeup?" Sophia asked, chewing on the long green straw before dashing off to get a new coffee. She returned quickly, sipping a full coffee.

"Or the sun?" Noelle inspected Taylor's pasty complexion. "Now that we know Sophia's stuff fits you, which is really sad, we'll pack up the other outfits once you've seen them, and then you need serious product therapy."

We ushered Taylor out of the 360-degree mirror chamber and giggled.

The next hour was spent piling clothes into Taylor's arms and teaching her about products.

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"Seriously. Shave," Noelle said, with her normal bluntness. She handed Taylor tweezers, a razor and shaving cream. "Not kidding. Don't make me do the cotton ball test. I will."

"Here," Sophia pulled out a black Coach makeup case we'd assembled before. She spoke quickly, and took sips of her Starbucks in between sentences. "This is your best friend forever. It has Goldie lip gloss; given in Pink Lemonade and Punk Bubblegum, Burt's Bees lip balm in strawberry-mango, three-step travel-sized Proactive, bronzer, Crest Whitestrips; which you will use daily for an hour, Evian face mist; use nightly, La Mer night face mask, peppermint foot lotion; if you use it on your face I will kill you, and black eyeliner; which will make your eyes pop, trust me."

"Here." I handed her a full-sized Proactive kit: face wash, toner, moisturizer, and the mask. I'd also put in the extensive care mask and some of their mineral powder, which had SPF 30. That was good, right? "Use this every morning and every night. Use the normal mask at night only, and the extensive mask at night on Fridays in place of the normal mask. Also, use this powder before applying all your other makeup. It's SPF 30, which will keep you from being wrinkly."

"Uhhhh," Taylor said. "What am I supposed to say to this?"

"How about thanks?" I sniffed.

"But I'm not. I'm a little offended, actually." Taylor frowned.

"Well, be grateful. This stuff is expensive," I scolded. "La Mer is $125 an ounce."

Taylor gulped. "Um. Wow. Thanks. This really wasn't necessary…"

"Excuse me?" Sophia's eyes bugged. "Have you looked in a mirror? Ever?" She took a long drag on her straw again, bouncing up and down on her toes in way I'd always found impossible to do in heels.

Taylor blushed. "Um, yeah. I have," she said. "And I'm okay with it."

"Really?" Sophia was incredulous. She actually put her drink down. "You were?"

"Hate to wreck the self-confidence but…well, girls? Shall we explain?" I sighed. We turned her around so she was facing the mirror. I stood behind her because I was a head taller than her, Sophia leaned towards Taylor's reflection from the left, and Noelle stood on my right, arms crossed and head shaking.

"Pasty," Noelle said.

"A little chubby, but nothing makeup couldn't fix," Sophia piped up. She picked up her drink again and took a long drag on the thick straw.

"If you even wore makeup," I added.

"Small eyes," Noelle said.

"Yellow teeth," Sophia nodded.

"Scraggly hair," I agreed.

"Nice unibrow," Noelle snorted.

"Acne," Sophia offered.

"Ugly glasses," Noelle added.

"And look at that outfit!" we said at once.

Taylor's lip quivered. "You don't have to be so mean."

"Yes, we do," I said, irritated. "Because that's the past. We'll fix you."

"Fix me?" she squeaked. "What's broken?"

"Your glasses," Sophia said, flicking the crushed frames. "Thank God."

"Here," I said, tugging her out of the bathroom. "Sit."

"Why?" she asked as she planted her feet on the floor.

"We're picking hair for you! Hurry, Ken will be here in like, four minutes."

"Ken?"

"Ken Paves? Hairdresser? Jessica Simpson's hair's gay BFF?" I rolled my eyes. "My hair stylist?"

"Oh."

After a while we selected a great cut for Taylor: Anne Hathaway in Devil Wears Prada, when she walks in after the makeover, with lots of layers. If she paired it with smoky makeup, it would work fabulously.

"Dahhh-ling, are you heeeeeere?"

"Kenny!" I squealed, hugging my hairdresser.

"Sweetheart, your highlights are fab!" he told me, hugging me back. "Love."

"Thanks!" I beamed. "They're by you, so why wouldn't they be?"

He laughed. "Hey, Noelle, Sophia. And-who's this?"

"This is Taylor," I said. "She's being made over today, and needs your help."

"My mom set up in the bathroom," Sophia said, gesturing towards her bathroom with the hand that held her drink. "She says if you cut hair in here she'll kill me." She shrugged. "How that works, I so do not get."

Ken chuckled. "Alrighty, we don't want that. You've got a cut and highlight next weekend, yes?"

Sophia nodded. "Let's get started with Taylor, now." She handed him the picture we'd printed. "You think it'll work?"

He nodded, and half an hour later Taylor emerged with long bangs that fell into her eyes and faded into soft layers around her face. She had dark streaks underneath, and the healthy-looking ends fell to mid-back. All signs of split ends were finally gone.

"Miss Taylor here thought I was scalping her. She's never had layers!" He chuckled.

We giggled. "Aw, poor Tay!" I said, giggling. "We all have 'em."

"Us, and the rest of the female population," Sophia said, running a hand through her long dark layers. "They're great."

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Once Ken was gone, we took a long look at Taylor's new hair in Sophia's 360-degree mirror again. Taylor's bigger-looking blue eyes were too bright for the dark haircut, we all agreed, so we speed-dialed Bobbi Brown, who was sending "Anna" to come and makeover Taylor's makeup. "She'll give you whatever she uses, too," Bobbi promised.

"Thanks! So happy to keep in touch with an alum," I said. "Bye, Bobbi!"

"Bye, dear," Bobbi said, and hung up.

I giggled. "I heart being class pres! I can have anyone's number."

"Ugh," Sophia muttered. "And you can't share."

"Nope," I said, smiling.

Taylor looked like she wished I'd get hit by a bus.

"What?" I demanded. "That's a leak. Leaks suck. I'd never be trusted with anything again!"

Sophia rolled her eyes, suddenly enthusiastic in the makeover. "Whatevs. Let's go into the bathroom, Taylor needs to get ready." She nodded briskly, pushing Taylor into the bathroom. She slammed the door behind her, whipping around to face me. "Okay, what's with mentioning the alums? That's our school's best-kept secret, and you just half-spilled it to an outsider!" she hissed at me, nearly spilling her Starbucks as she did some huge and dramatic gesture.

"Whaaat? I so did not! Spilling is explaining what the alum numbers are!" I hissed back, frowning at her. She glared right back at me.

"Noelle?" Sophia turned to our other friend, who was inspecting Sophia's line of perfumes that lined the walls around her room. "Didn't she just spill?"

"Ummm," Noelle said, trying not to get into our minifight. "Do you have Marc Jacobs Rain?"

"Yes," Sophia snapped, pointing at the big bottle. "Now, didn't she?"

"Ummmmmm," Noelle said. "Do you have Marc Jacobs Daisy?"

Sophia pointed again. "Didn't she?!"

"Do you have Marc J-"

"I have every perfume Marc Jacobs has ever made, okay?" Sophia interrupted, angry. She waved her arms around. I watched as the iced coffee nearly sloshed onto Noelle's white-blonde head. "Now, will you answer me?"

Noelle pondered this for a while. Finally, she answered. "Um, do you have Betsey Johnson?"

"OH MY GOD! I give up!" Sophia squealed, her cheeks pink with frustration. "I swear-"

The doorbell rang, and we all glanced up at the intercom, waiting.

"Miss Sophia? We have an Ashley here for you, from Bobbi Brown?" Sophia sighed and climbed up the ladder to her bed. She put her coffee on a nearby shelf, threw herself across the bed, and clicked a button on a white box.

"Yup," she said. "Send her up."

Moments later, an anorexic-skinny forty-year-old woman with a way-too-young-for-her-age dyed-blonde high ponytail and an overbotoxed face entered the room. "Allo," she said, her accent thick and unidentifiable.

"Ashley?" I said, scrunching my nose. "Are you serious?" I demanded, from nobody in particular.

"That's not Ashley," someone said, laughing. The sound of stilettos clacking down Sophia's bamboo-floored hallway filled the room, and soon a far more fabulous girl walked in the room. "I am.She's my assistant. She hasn't told me her name, I don't think she speaks English."

The real Ashley was wearing a black Chanel suede mini with a black tank top and a gold braided belt around her hips. She also wore black Marc Jacobs knee-high stiletto boots. She had her blonde hair (which was dyed black underneath) pulled into a ponytail on the back of her head. She looked really cool.

"Loti," I said.

Sophia shot me a "Wtf?" look.

"Loti. Laughing on the inside!" I stomped my foot in frustration. "Seriously, keep up, Soph," I teased.

Sophia shrugged, polishing off the iced coffee and chucking the clear cup into her garbage. I glared at her, warning against her getting another one. We didn't need her powering the whole state, but she looked like she could. Easily. Her left eye twitched a little at my silent threat but she was, otherwise, fine.

"You girls seem to like the nicer things in life," Ashley noted. She produced a black makeup case with the Bobbi Brown logo on top, and pulled out a selection of dark eyeshadows. I gasped. They were gorgeous. "So, have you seen Bobbi's new couture selection? It's all smoky eyeshadows and it's super-expensive and super-exclusive. Love, yes? You have to have an invite to get any of these. I believe we sent one to Paris Hilton."

"Oh," I sighed. They were pretty. Really pretty. "I don't suppose I can buy one? Now?"

"Why not? You're my client, and you don't need a stinking piece of paper to prove anything." Ashley laughed.

Noelle crinkled her nose. "Fifty dollars? For one tiny eyeshadow?"

"Not just eyeshadow," I said. "The eyeshadow. The couture eyeshadow of the year, as predicted by Lucky, Elle, and Seventeen. This is major."

"Uh-huh," Noelle said doubtingly. But she bought two, just in case; who wants to be behind a trend?

Suddenly, Taylor poked her head out the bathroom door. "Hey guys? Are planning on-" She spotted Noelle handing over cash and receiving the two small white boxes of eyeshadow. Taylor's eyes bulged. "Are you buying drugs?"

Noelle, Sophia, Ashley and I all looked at each other and burst out laughing.

"Sweetie, these are hardly drugs," Ashley said, wiping away a tear without smudging her thick black eyeliner.

"But they are addicting," I said, shaking my three in my hand.

"It's eyeshadow," Sophia explained. Her leg twitched a little bit, and I knew she was dying to get another round of iced coffee.

Taylor blushed. "Oh," she said, turning pink.

"Sweetie, stop that," Ashley said. "Blushing makes you look blotchy!"

"Um, what?" Taylor turned pinker. "Who are you?"

"This is Ashley," I said.

"She's our Bobbi Brown makeup rep," Noelle added.

"She's gonna fix your face," Sophia said.

"Um, what?" Taylor repeated.

"Makeup, dummy," Noelle snapped, irritated by Taylor's general cluelessness.

"Oh," Taylor mumbled.

"Riiiight," Ashley said. "So let's get started, yes?"

"Yeah. I guess," Taylor said, tucking her new cut behind her ears.

"Bad!" I swatted her hand and tugged her hair back into place. "Your hair stays here. If you get annoyed with the bangs, then flip them up like this." I took my side bangs and arranged them in front of my face before sweeping them back on top of my head and clipping them in place. "See?"

Taylor nodded. "Guess so."

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Another hour later, Ashley was sipping a tall glass of mango juice and inspecting Taylor's perfectly made up face with the look of a proud mother, I was sitting in Sophia's bubble chair curled up with Teen Vogue, Noelle was inspecting her new "couture" eyeshadows with a look of suspicion, and Sophia was on her bed, trying to convey to her non-English-speaking maid that she wanted to get us some root beer floats.

"No! I want a root beer float," Sophia shouted into her intercom. She squealed, burying her face in her pillow while she vented her frustration.

"You want Daddy buy new boat?" came the maids thickly accented response. We cracked up into our palms, and even Ashley smirked a little.

"No! I want root beer, with vanilla ice cream in it. I want a root beer float!" Sophia wailed. She buried her face in her hands this time.

"Why you want alcohol?" The maid demanded.

"Root beer!" Sophia shouted, her head shooting out of her hands. "Not beer! ROOT BEER."

"Oh…you want root beer," the maid finally said. "Why you no say so?"

Four minutes later, the maid entered the room with a single glass beer bottle. No ice cream, and I was pretty sure it was warm. Ugh.

"I wanted a root beer float," Sophia said quietly. "And you brought me warm beer?"

"Is root beer, no?"

A/N: HA! Ten-page chappy! This took me SO long to do…but now NBB, you cant bug me for updates nearly as much! I figured I'd cut it off after the makeover, which Taylor took because she really wants them to like her…typical LBR, right? Right. And…other than that, all I have to say is, poor little rich girl, her maid brought her beer. Such a problem.