“Having a rock star husband isn’t all it’s cracked up to be,” said Julie, before taking a long sip from her cappuccino; she peered gravely over the mug as she drank.
“Are you listening to yourself?” asked Sophie, ignoring the intense gaze. “It’s always been your dream. It’s always been everyone’s dream. He’s beautiful, he’s rich, he sings like an angel; what more could you want?”
“It’s the paparazzi, the random hours, the month-long tours. It’s just too much.”
“Look at you,” Sophie shook her head, “dressed from head to toe in Prada and Channel, complaining about the world.”
“Sorry,” Julie apologised, “it wasn’t supposed to sound like that. I’m just a little disappointed with my lack of foresight. I’m still impressed with his spontaneity – selecting a bride from the crowd and wedding her in front of 80 thousand people. I just wish the sign I was holding said, ‘would you like to go for a drink some time?’ instead of ‘marry me!’”
“Are you listening to yourself?” asked Sophie, ignoring the intense gaze. “It’s always been your dream. It’s always been everyone’s dream. He’s beautiful, he’s rich, he sings like an angel; what more could you want?”
“It’s the paparazzi, the random hours, the month-long tours. It’s just too much.”
“Look at you,” Sophie shook her head, “dressed from head to toe in Prada and Channel, complaining about the world.”
“Sorry,” Julie apologised, “it wasn’t supposed to sound like that. I’m just a little disappointed with my lack of foresight. I’m still impressed with his spontaneity – selecting a bride from the crowd and wedding her in front of 80 thousand people. I just wish the sign I was holding said, ‘would you like to go for a drink some time?’ instead of ‘marry me!’”