Pimp my ride. (Open)

Thursday evening. No party in the city. Dad was not around. She is alone. With an absurd amount of money. None of her friends was available.
A couple of crazy ideas later, Celeste was hidden in the back seat of his chauffeur´s car. It was not a bad car, but still did not compare to the luxury of their usual transportation. It would be a better idea to take the limousine. Only God knew how hard she wanted to stretch her legs and enjoy the ride. But no matter how much she wished it, the car was not going to get any bigger. It was extremely frustrating and as if that was not enough, she began to feel dizzy from so many turns.
She was hiding in the gap between the front and rear seat, under a dirty old blanket with barely enough room to hide.
Dust was making her sick. Everything was covered with a thin layer of dust, filthy and full of germs. It was unashamedly tainting her hands, and clothing. Just thinking about her clothes made her had an urgent need for all that to end. She was afraid that things did not go as expected, and also she was not really sure it was a good idea. But she was not going to admit it

1am. Somewhere in New York. Three floor parking. 24/7. Actual location: unknown.
The car stopped, Andrew exchange a few words with someone. A small mechanical sounds let them in. The car began to move one last time for a short period of time before it was completely quiet again, and for good. The engine died. His driver whispered something that she can not hear, she waited, listening carefully, it was all she could do. But all was quiet. The driver's door closed, five minutes after that Celeste came out of her hiding spot.
The place was very well illuminated, more than she expected. That was not good. Her heart began to beat quickly, doubt was taking over. She could just get in the car and make a call, he would come to the rescue immediately... no, she could not. It was not as bad as hiding under the dirty blanket. After all, there where a lot of columns and the large number of parked cars provided a great coverage. She just had to be careful.

An hour later, a whole line of cars had a new color. Pink. One by one the cars were painted magically, at the end of the line she fell exhausted. Physically and mentally. She crawled to the closest wall, leaning against it at the shade of a car. Resting, she look at her work. One, two, three ... eleven cars. Each of the cars painted not only in color but also mimicking the texture of the original object. The cars seemed to be covered in pink fabric. The trick, many small pieces of pink fabric that now remained scattered across the floor. A trail of crumbs.