Fighting for the Bad Boy

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This story was inspired by nothing. I don't even know if the title fits. As per say. 

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I'm going to fight. I'm going to fight for you. You need to remember that. 

-R.L Griffin

“Stop moving!”

“Then push it in already!”

“I’m trying”

“Try harder” I hissed in response before letting out a strangled “It hurts!”

“Sh” he soothed “Nearly there”

“Hurry!”

He let out a grunt before crying “Done!”

 I let out a blissful sigh “Finally!”

Anyone who didn’t know what was happening would’ve assumed something inappropriate was taking place. The actual matter at hand was my stylist and I, attempting to fit me into a dress two sizes too small.

I allowed myself to exam myself in the mirror: the fiery red garment clung unto my petite figure like a new born baby to its mother. The sweetheart neckline dipped modestly, and the dress swung barely past my ankles swishing ever so slightly. The colour contrasted greatly with my dark auburn hair, and guessing by the amount of zeros hanging from the price tag, it was designer. I hated it.

My stylist, Oden Van Plough, shot me a look that meant he had read the expression on my face “Absolutely not!”

“You didn’t even know what I was going to ask!” I protested as he fiddled with the hem of my dress.

Oden rolled his eyes “Can I change the dress? Can I not go to this function? Can you help me run away? Can you go back in time and give me different parents?”.

Narrowing my eyes at the implication that I sounded like a brat on helium I huffed “I wasn’t even going to ask you that”

Oden raised a perfectly tweezed eyebrow “I’ve know you since you were in diapers Adeline, I think I know exactly what you were about to ask”

Crossing my room in annoyance, I plopped myself down on my burgundy king sized bed ignoring Oden’s protests about wrinkling the dress.  I stared longingly at the pair of battered converse that sat next to my discarded sweatpants.

“It’s only for an hour Adeline” Oden persuaded “You’ve been doing this long enough”

“I’m 17 Oden, and my Saturday night consists of attending functions with stuck up celebrities and people who think they’re important!”

Oden cocked his head to the side “Well…they are important”

I glared at him “A little support would go a long way Oden”

There was a sharp knock on the door, signalling guests had started to arrive. Oden shot me a sympathetic look, twirling some of my hair between his fingers.

“Be good Adeline”

I refused to meet his gaze, adamant on ignoring him.

“Addie?”

I sighed, nodding once “Yeah, whatever”

He smiled offering me his hand, which I took, before leading me down the grand staircase of my home. It didn’t feel like a home to me, it felt like a museum. There were some rooms that I hadn’t even bothered to explore, the house was too grand, too showy, everything I hated. I waved goodbye to Oden as I made my way to the ballroom, where the function would be held. I gritted my teeth at the overly shining lights, the plush sofas and the expensive canapés that the hired catering company had provided.

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