Misa was your ditzy best friend. A woman that was made for fame, recruiters and scouts everywhere she went. Fanboys and even fan girls—begging and asking for autographs from the one and only.

It got tiring but you went along with it wherever you took her. She was someone you cared for from the inside. Not just for her looks.

“Why don’t we go to this boutique next? There’s a pair of shoes I KNOW you’d die for.” Misa grabbed your hand and dragged you for an endless shopping spree.