Life - "And for the first time in a long time, she felt beautiful. And she has to admit that she loves the feeling. EO
Disclaimer : Nuh Uh.
Summary : Olivia's feeling less than pretty, so she decides to make some changes.
OLIVIA POV
Chapter 2 : Changes
I woke up this morning and almost nothing had changed. I felt very ambitious, though. Last night was my breaking point and I've decided that I'm going to make some changes. But where to start? Should I go on a diet or exercise?
I walked into the bathroom and turned to face myself in the mirror. Makeup. I'm so bland and boring. As I searched through my medicine cabinet, I noticed that all I had was dried up mascara and chapstick. It was then that I realized that I don't know shit about any of this. It wasn't like I surrounded myself around "top models" anyway. Casey, one of my best friends probably felt the same way that I did, working sex crimes is not as feminine as a person might think. In fact, it's one of the most disgusting and heinous things I've ever experienced. It's a main factor that lead me to thinking the way I do now.
This world is so ugly and disturbing that I've only conformed myself to be the same way. Why should I deserve to feel pretty when disgusting things are happening all around me. I love what I do so much, and there's no greater satisfaction than knowing that I'm helping someone. Especially with something so difficult. I feel so selfish to even call what I'm going through a problem.
As I turned the faucet on, my cell phone began to ring. "Bleeding Love". It was Elliot. I left from the bathroom and picked up the phone.
"Hello?" he said.
"Hey, what's going on" I said with as little enthusiasm as humanly possible.
"Nothing, how are you feeling" he asked concernedly. I'm glad that the guilt hit him. He should be glad I didn't. I chose not to answer his question. He's lucky I chose to answer to answer his call after last night.
"Olivia, I'm sorry for what happened last night. I didn't know you were so insecure about your appearance" he said. I could hear a hint of disgust when he said the word "appearance". He spit it out of his mouth like bad coffee.
"I am not insecure, Elliot" I spat with just as much venom and disgust. Except the emphasis was on his name.
"So what the fuck is going on with you Olivia, everything was fine a couple of months ago. Did something happen? Did someone say anything ? Too much TV ?" I was insulted by his words."I am not influenced by that nonsense" I said firmly.
"Then what the hell is it, Olivia, because I feel like I'm in a relationship with a teenage girl. Was it something I said or did. Or didn't say or do. Just tell me" he said, I could tell that he cares for me, and wants to see me happy.
"I just can't help the way that I feel" I told him.
"How do you feel ? Ugly ? Is that it ? You're anything but ugly, you're the most beautiful woman I've ever seen."
"Elliot, I've got to go, I have things to do today" I told him truthfully. I'm on a mission and his "pep talk" wasn't going to deter me in the least.
"Liv?" he asked, to see if I was still there.
"Yeah?" I assured him.
"I love you"
"I love you too" I said, smiling.
As I stood up from my comfortable position at the edge of my bed, I started what was first on my agenda. I took a long and relaxing shower.
Looking in the mirror, yet again, I saw that my hair was dull and lifeless. Sure, I let it grow. But growth doesn't mean anything when it's completely flat. But I could never find anything to do for it besides throw it into a ponytail. I didn't want to go butch and chop it off … again. I decided that I would try something new. Something pretty. I threw on some clothes and my coat and headed for the salon.
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"Who the hell is Paul Mitchell?" I asked, pulling up to a salon. A good friend of mine had told me about the salon, and offered to come along. I had no choice but to oblige.
"He's a stylist, Liv, and the people here are absolutely amazing with hair" Monica assured me, smiling. She had been my best friend since high school. And she had always been a sort of girly girl. We walked toward the salon, and she asked me what I had planned on doing. I had no idea. I asked her opinion and she eyed me down, and I stood, looking like an awkward deer.
I had worn a plain black peacoat and some tattered light jeans. "Were you planning on clothes shopping too?" she asked me, one of her arched eyebrows raising slightly.
"Why, you don't like my clothes?" I asked her, smoothing out my jeans. Hell, who was I kidding. I don't even like my 's why Monica and I could never have a fully solid friendship. It was based on conditional love. It's a semi-miracle that she even wanted to be seen in public with me. Sure, she was glamorous. But she was also a bitch.
"If you want my true opinion, as a friend, I think your wardrobe is something like a butch lesbians" she said turning up her nose at the thought "with long hair" she added trying to sound as nice as possible. It wasn't a possibility for Monica Redding.
I glared at her.
"I'm just telling the truth Olivia, what happened to you? In high school, you were so different. Looks don't matter to me, because I love you regardless" she lied, but in a way told the truth. "But I feel like there is something that made you whis way. Is there?" I wanted to tell her. To tell anybody, but I couldn't. I looked down at my feet and blinked hard.
"No" I lied "I'm just fed up with feeling this way." It was at least half of the truth. After one last glance at each other we entered the salon. It was freezing after all
I entered the salon, with Monica at my side. Thankfully, the place wasn't crowded today. "What are you here for, maam?" a man approached the two of us.
"Its her obviously" Monica giggled "Olivia's having a bad hair…decade?" I rolled my eyes at her. Why do I talk to her?
I smiled. "I'm Olivia" I extended my hand towards him. He shook it and smiled back at me.
"I'm Collin, do you know what you'd like to have done?" he asked me, running his fingers through my hair.
"Not really, I just want it to be pretty and versatile." I told him. He probably thought I was an idiot, because that is totally what I felt like.
"So what do you think, short ? Spikes ? Glamorous ? Tomboy ? Let me know." he smiled absentmindedly and continued to play with the tips of my hair.
"Glamorous" I told him confidently.
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Sitting in the salon chair, I looked on with Collin into the mirror.
"How would you feel about some color?" Collin asked from his position, hovering above me. My hair was dark and solid . It was parted down the middle and tucked behind my ears. He ruffled it wildly and massaged my scalp.
"That's fine, nothing too wild though" I told him.
"Of course not" he said, spinning the chair around so that I faced him.
A couple of hours later, when he turned my chair around, I began to smile as if I hit the lottery. It was a big change. Monica and I gazed into the mirror together, amazed. "It is amazing what a hairstyle can do for a person: Monica commented, ruffling my hair.
Collin had done an amazing job. His choice of color was amazing. He dyed it an orange-reddish color. Auburn, I think it's called. I'm just ecstatic that I'm not a blonde. The styling of the hair was absolutely amazing as well. It was wispy and feathery. It was layered so that the curls seemed to fall over one another, gracefully. This is my look now, and I love it.
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When we were in the car, I couldn't stop looking at the mirror in utter disbelief.
"What are you going to do with yourself, hon?" Monica asked, playing with my hair. I secretly think she's trying to mess it up.
"I have no idea, all I need now is some makeup and I'll be a vixen" I said jokingly, laughing at myself.
"Let me do it!" she shouted, her eyes wide with excitement. Admittingly, her makeup was always flawless, she had even made extra money on the side as a cosmetologist.
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"You need an arch" Monica started, bringing a yellow tool up to my face. I winced a little when she began to shave the delicate hairs of my eyebrows. "But you're eyebrows are so thick and sexy, Liv" she giggled like a giddy teenage girl.
"This is eye shadow primer, it's going to make your eye shadow pop when it's applied." Monica said applying a clear substance on my eyelids and under my eyebrow.
"Which color?" she asked, pulling out a pallet of different forms and colors of eye shadow. Some were crème, loose powder, solids and liquids.
"I don't know" I said, examining the choices.
"You know what would be hot on you?" she asked rhetorically "smoky eye" she said assuredly.
"Which is…?"
"You just let me take care of this hon, I'm the expert 'member? She smiled.
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When I was about to look in the mirror, I half-expected to turn around and look like a day-shift hooker. Monica could never let someone else look better than her. But when I saw her work, my knees buckled.
"Whoa…" I started. I was speechless. I had "bedroom eyes", as one would call them. I was happy about it, too.
"Yeah, see? I told you to trust me, and you look absolutely beautiful." she smiled at me and wiped some smudged eyeliner off of my eye. It was the perfect look for me, sultry and dark.
"Thank you, Monica" I said hugging her tightly. A little too tight, so that I could smudge some mascara on her white sweater. Doesn't she know it's the dead of winter?
"My work here is done, Liv, you should call up Elliot, and work out your new magic" she winked at me and sat on the edge of my bed.
"You should makeover your house too, it's so drab" she complained tossing my white pillow around for a while.
After grabbing her things and fluffing my hair once more, she was on her way out the door.
Now I could call Elliot and give him the proper kind of update.
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I called Elliot fifteen minutes ago. I'm surprised to be so horny after my mini-makeover. I was even more surprised that I had found something sexy in my closet : Lingerie. A really short, lace black dress. It had spaghetti straps and it barely covered my huge ass. Both of my cheeks were literally just hanging out of it.
I reviewed myself in the mirror one last time. Today was that of a very eventful day. I had fun, and I feel great. I found myself so nervous to know what Elliot would think. Would he scold me for being shallow? Would he take me in his arms and fuck me? I was hoping for the latter.
Looking down at my feet, I noticed that my black pumps had dust on them. I laughed to myself aloud. That might be the funniest thing that's ever happened to me. I had no idea where I even got these from. They are really pretty though. They were just sexy enough, I could probably even get away with wearing them to work. Cute little things, I should say. Peep-toe patent leather heels.
The doorbell woke me from my shoegasm. My heart was racing wildly, and I nearly tripped over my rug trying to answer the door. When I opened the door, he looked me over. I thought immediately that he disapproved. That he thought it was childish. His face was basically frozen in time.
"Baby…" I looked down, and he lifted my chin up aggressively "no foreplay" he said, lifting me off the ground . I wrapped my legs around him tightly and I knew that our night had began.
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