Siren

Advances

"Jasper"

I watched her make her way through the door, she passed but her face lacked any signs of recollection. I had watched her like this for the remaining week stopping to approach me or engage in any type of conversation. That was fine with me she had brushed me off and had made her feelings quite clear so why was I unable to move forward. 

"Jasper -hey wait up I was wondering if you're going to the Midnight, Moonfest Ball..." asked Oliva who had become persistently dead set on trying to grab the title of Homecoming Regnal Queen and needed a handsome chauffeur boy to reclaim the title with.

"Yeah" came my short, distant reply

"Well" she looked at me expecting an answer

"Will you want to be my date?"

"Me really-yeh, of course, pick me at 8 you have my number I stuck it on your locker today see you  later Jasper"

I sighed Oliva was a stunning girl her looks were conventional to the typical all American girl "endless unravelling legs, enlarged silicon breast, cascading long blonde hair, oceanic blue eyes, popular with almost the entire senior body ...A small thought appeared in my mind maybe she will be the one to make you forget about Aria, I damn well hoped so. Since Aria was driving me fanatical 

Oliva Morrow lived on Parker street known to occupy prestigious wealthy families. Her mother Kathrine Morrow had once been a legendary fashion icon but now she was a bitter woman forcing divorce settlements onto her director husband Mark Marrow who had been caught having a 2-year affair with his film extra. Jasper parked his car at number 25 were iron gates invited him in. The house was impressive neitherless with towering deco art structure and marble framed doors he rang the bell twice.

She opened looking ravishingly sensual, and it was not the look any of the other aspiring high school elites would have gone for. Oliva wore an extremely low cut black laced gown with a high slit and platform heels; her face had been dramatically made up amplifying her oval eyes with black eyeliner and her lips smeared with bold red lipstick. She was every man's fantasy and a baited temptress.  

"I didn't think you opened your own door "

"I don't I was just too excited, what do you think" twirling around to showcase her dress 

"You look great" 

They drove in Jasper sleek black mini and were welcomed with freshly imported signs that read "Midnight, Moonfest ball" a variety of different colours gashed as the two good looking couple entered the ball which was dimly lit with an array of crystallised silver tables. Although the room was astonishing Jasper only noticed a figure in green the mist; Aria

"Aria*

I stared transfixed at him he was handsome in a black tuxedo a dashing gentleman; then I saw Oliva approaching him she looked show-stopping a modern Marilyn with the light fixtures skimming her willow frame. It caused my heart to beat louder and more rigorously as I saw her wrap her arms around him and elope him in a kiss. My dress hang loosely and looked immaturely horrendous next to her that I felt the anger and jealousy brewing inside me that I had tried to escape it for a while. But I masked my discomfort and attempted smile with unease.

*Oliva*

There was clear competition between me and Aria I hated her classical vixen looks which was similar to the look my own mother had possessed over the years. Most of the time the women told me I was ugly and could not have been her biological daughter since she had always been so classically beautiful. It was obvious in the blown-up pictures the clear discrepancies between her and me whilst she had always been so skinny and willow I was slim and puffy. I was relieved to see that Serena had not yet made her arrival; Serena and Aria would surely outperform me and endanger my chances for the coveted title. Mother would mock me endlessly if I lost. The woman had already recreated a wall dedicated to her former glory days. Pictures of her Prom wins and Beauty stashes were pasted on the wall of the guest drawing-room like a shrine. She had been so incredibly pretty back then but years of plastic surgery and stress had whithered her looks away. The face of a former beauty queen now 39 hagged with a plastic surgery addiction.

I blamed dad I still blame him if he hadn't paraded his little mistress around the town mother would never have gotten that seventh facelift or the fourth nose job to try and please him. It seemed like every other day there was something transfixed and her face had gotten progressively worse for it. 

Oliva had begun to think that her mother was mentally incapable of accepting her features or truly loving herself. Since the discovery of her mother's addiction, she had begged her father to place her in an anti-rehabilitation treatment facility but he had flat out refused, reasoning that he had already spent too much money on her to plunder away anymore. Most importantly, he had said that he would rather spend his assets on his only responsibility, which was her. 

Oliva knew he was partially right about her mother's money issues but she was killing herself with those invasive treatments. Oliva herself was forced into plastic surgery at the age of 15 when her mother pressured her into getting rhinoplasty after her nose was accidentally struck with a tennis racket at the tennis tournament she had been playing in. 

After that incident, she had begged her mother, although it hadn't taken much persuasion, to let her undergo a boob job last year. She had seen the reaction the boys her age had given her friends when puberty had rewarded them with bigger breasts. But her reward never came even though she had gone through the most painful cramps imaginable her breasts stayed an A cup and she had gotten teased relentlessly for that. Now it proved to be an unwise decision to have gotten her breast augmented at that young age, in truth it had made her feel closer to her mother. It would be described as a twisted mother and daughter bonding exercise session by her shrink. But she had never had her mother dote on her lovingly or nurse her back to recovery until the day of the surgery. But soon her mother reverted back into the cold unloving, unkind women she grew to identify her as a couple of days after the surgery. 

She knew that her thinking now was bordering on the insane, that it was psychologically erroneous to undergo plastic surgery just so she could feel closer to her mother. But that was the only way her mother expressed her true love for her, and her love was what she craved above everything else and had been what she had always wanted so she couldn't stop now. 

Just like she couldn't lose the title to win the title for Prom Queen now. Failure was not an option in the Marrow household.