chapter 3- Liv: I don't want no Valentine, I want Valentino

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note from the author: when you see directions to play a certain song do so to connect with the characters and feel the emotions they're feeling :)


*play 'Wow' by Post Malone*

I wouldn't consider myself to have a good body. But I don't have a bad one either. I mean if you look at Casey her body is practically perfect. But she claims her ass isn't large enough or her boobs aren't as large as she would like them to be. But while I stare at myself in the mirror in the middle of the Valentino. I think 'damn I look so hot'. It's red and lacy, scandalous. I mean if you're going to your mom's engagement party why not create a scandal. I know it's bad to say that, however, girls love creating drama. Which is what I'm going to do by wearing this dress.

"Damn girl you look like a snack," Casey states. Casey tried on a plain white dress, which she claims brings out her grey eyes.

"I think this is the one!" I praise turning around to face Casey.

"How much?" Casey ponders spinning me around checking the tag on the back zipper.

"5k, I think it's a limited edition too, that's a good deal right?". I hate shopping, I don't like spending my parents' money. I feel as if it's not mine to spend, guilty almost.

"Liv! You have to get it! You look even more stunning than you usually do!" Casey professes. 

She makes me blush, I get shy when people compliment me. It's a new thing, since what Casey calls my high school glow-up. Looking back in the mirror I really want this dress. Like it proves a point or something. Then, fixing my hair which looks even more blonde since it's blow-dried and styled.

"Fine. Hopefully, my mom doesn't get mad by dropping 5k on her credit card," I voice knowing she won't exactly be happy noticing how short the dress is.

"She's getting married for fucks sake, she won't notice. Speaking of Frank Gallagher? That's the best she can do?" Casey claims, fiddling with her zipper. I think she's trying to make the dress even tighter than it is.

"Who is Frank Gallagher," I ask genuinely. Casey knows everyone I swear to god.

"I'm pretty sure he's the dad of Lip Gallagher," She replies to my comment. Lip Gallagher rings a bell.

"Isn't that the kid who sold us weed for like 3 summers in a row," I say cautiously lowering my voice. I don't want anyone to know that Casey and I have done drugs, especially since we were so young.

"Yep, oh wait do you remember that kid Carl Gallagher, I think they're all related somehow,". Casey struts toward the changing room, I guess she's going to get changed.

"That kid. Oh my lord, he sold a gun to Leo. Messed up in the head," Declaring before taking one last look in the mirror before going back into the changeroom myself. Struggling to undo my zipper, Casey and I continue our conversation.

"You know I think I'm gonna get this dress," Casey echoes from the stall to the right of mine. 

Casey will spend money on literally anything. Last month she bought a Louis Vuitton custom dog bed, but she doesn't even have a dog!

"It looks good on you," I encourage her. Finishing strapping my bra back on, then I grab my hoodie.

"I'm so happy we got those blowouts, we're gonna look smoking,". The Salone was boring if you ask me. 

My life is boring. The same thing every day. Nothing new ever happens. Apologize if I'm boring you, I'm just trying to show you how I live. Slipping on my playboy bunny white sweatpants and I lift the latch to be released from the prison.

*stop song here*

                                                                                         ⚘⚘⚘⚘

Nobody would say I look basic. My dad was Latino, which makes me have very tan skin. Freckles scatter my nose and cheeks making me look sun-kissed. My lips are thin though. I get them from my mom. She's fully European(white). My eyes though, that's the real wonder. If you take a good long look, it seems as if I'm staring into your soul. At least that's what Casey says. I think it's because of my heterochromia iridium. No, it's not a disease thank god, it's a condition. Where one of your eyes has multicolored. Or how I explain it: a chip of your eye is a different color. My eyes are light brown, but a segment of my left eye is blue. Pretty cool right? Not a lot of people notice it because they think they already know me from social media or whatever. Just a little fun fact I guess.

"What a day!" Casey announces once we enter through my front door.

"Hey, girls!" Mom calls from the kitchen. 

We enter the kitchen to see Mom standing beside an older man. He has his arm around her. He looks musty and crusty. No offense but he looks like one of those guys that would approach you and beg you for money. I shouldn't be quick to judge, but the first guy mom brings home after dad looks like this? I just think she could do better.

"Oh, you must be Frank! I'm Olivia," Reaching out and lending my hand to shake. Instead Frank nods at me.

"Beautiful daughter, just like her mother!" my future stepdad comments. Grabbing my mom tighter. Gross.

"Aww thanks that's really sweet of you, oh and this is my best friend Casey!" nudging Casey forward to say something. All she can do is give Frank a weak smile. How is she going to survive at the party tonight if she can't even say one word to a south sider?

"How old are you ladies? 16, 18, 21?" Franks wonders out loud.

"We're freshmen...In high school," I inform him. Casey nods her head staying silent.

"Ah, I'm pretty sure I have a son freshman year too. Is it Lip or Ian?" Frank thinks out loud. Lip I know for sure is older, he had his own joint business with some guy in his 30s.

"Carl hun," My mother corrects stepping in.

"Ah right, Carl my boy. The cancer survivor!" He preaches. So the gun dealer is my age. Stepbrothers with a gangster never thought about that one.

"Carl had cancer? Gosh, that's horrible!" My mom adds.

"Something along the lines of that....". I notice Frank noticing the expensive items in our home. Our paintings, sculptures, the steel double fridge. Maybe he's never seen this level of luxury before.

"I'm going to show Frank around and where he can put his stuff. I made snacks for you girls, help yourselves!" Mom declares. Casey and I sit in silence before talking about what just happened.

"I can't believe mom's marrying him," I snort. Never expected that would be her type.

"At least you'll have Carl Gallagher in your household," Casey added. She finds an apple in the fruit bowl and takes a bite.

"What do you mean? He's hot?" I wonder. 

I've heard of Carl before, just stories and such. He sounds like a psycho, like how I was last summer... Another touchy subject of mine. Last summer was all a blur, to be honest. 

"So smoking hot...". 

The sound of the old grandfather clock starts ticking, counting down the minutes I will meet my new family. The mysterious boy. Carl Gallagher. 


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