I did no preparation for the semi-formal. I have about five hours to buy a dress, shoes, accessories and then get ready lord help me.
I ended up stealing one of my mum’s dresses. A purple cocktail dress, the top half skin tight with white glitter, the middle a thin piece of purple ribbon dropping off into a fluffy mullet skirt. I think she only wore it once to a wedding when she was younger, thinner and hotter now it lay neglected in her closet so at least I’m getting some use out of it I guess.
I find a pair of silver stilettos that were slightly too big for me so I make a note to put a few Band-Aids there so I don’t get a blister.
Showering took forever, I am usually one for being lazy with shaving seeing as I have no one, or nothing, to shave for so when these kind of events come up its like mission impossible.
I quickly throw my hair up in a neat bun, picking a single strand of hair to hang out of the bottom and I curl it with my pathetic excuse for a straightener. After I lightly apply make up and don’t even attempt to wing my eye liner I put on the dress and shoes and head downstairs.
“And where do you think you’re going like that?” My mum says in a serious voice and I freeze, turning around slowly.
I thought I would see her fuming at me for stealing her dress and shoes but instead she places her hands gently around my neck and clips on her expensive diamond necklace that looks like a bulky V, then pushes the silver hair piece she had worn at her and dads wedding into my bun.
“Now you look perfect,” She smiles kissing me on the cheek, “But I am your mum, and I mightn’t get the chance to embarrass Eren so, I want photos with Gray!” She laughed grabbing her phone out.
“Actually I’m not going with Gray,” I shrug and she looks at me confused.
“But you two do everything together,”
“Yeah well, I got asked by someone else.” I explain and she looks a bit disappointed, mum has wanted me to date Gray sense the first time she met him, she likes him a lot.
Just as I she was about to take a photo of just me the door rings and I attempt to answer it but she grabs my arm gently, “Go up the stairs,”
“What? Mum no that’s cliché as hell,”
“I don’t care its cute,”
I shut up and do as she say even though I’m not happy about it. I think the reason I hate clichés so much is because of my mother.
“Oh well aren’t you handsome,” I heard mum giggle from downstairs and I try to resist face palming so I don’t mess up my make up, “Alison will be down in a moment.”
I take that as my cue and walk down the stairs, grabbing the railing carefully so I don’t trip in the heels.
“Wow,” I heard Jean breath from the door and I look up to see him in a cute, probably rented, tux. “You look beautiful,” he said and I blushed.
I actually blushed, I hate blushing its embarrassing. My whole face goes red and I look like a spastic.
“You look hot as fuck,” I laugh and mum smacks me for ‘ruining the moment.’
Mother of mine pushes us together outside and my jaw drops. “Did you rent this?” I ask looking at the black 1970 HG Monaro GTS 350.
“Sorry, dad has a thing for Monaro’s, I wanted to rent a limo but I’m saving up for a better car,” He explained sheepishly and I smacked him lightly,
“Are you kidding? This car is awesome!” I smile and mum uses this as an opportunity to snap a picture which makes me snap out of it.
“Alright in front of the car you two!”