𝐇𝐄𝐑 𝐋𝐈𝐅𝐄 ✔️

Chapter Twenty-Three

When morning came, Alessia dragged herself out of bed, lingering thoughts of Dylan on her mind. She remembered that he had grabbed her hand before he had left, reassuring her that nothing like this would ever happen to her again. Alessia, of course, couldn't and didn't believe him, but the kiss he pressed to her forehead silenced all those thoughts, and she was suddenly seeing rainbows and bright, blue skies.

She stepped into the shower smiling, refusing to wash away the remains of Dylan's lips on her forehead.

When she was finished, she pulled on her uniform, hitching up her skirt higher than usual, smoothing her collar down and smiling at herself in the mirror.

She threw her hair up into a towel before she left her room to wake her dad. Her blood boiled when she thought of him, yet even that couldn't dim her happiness. She shook him awake when it was time, let him call her a slut and shove her away from him, before she skipped up the stairs, twirling into her room and locking the door.

She began her makeup shortly after, putting more on than she usually did. When it was time for hair, she smiled, removing her towel from her hair and blow-drying her hair. She made it so that her curls were more relaxed, noting that that was what 'Olivia' usually did. I sat back, watching in shock as she attempted my signature half-up, half-down style. And with ribbons.

Although she couldn't quite pull it together like I could, she still did it. She had tried everything with Dylan—the only thing she knew was that he liked me. And so she would become Olivia Clark.

I almost laughed at the irony. Does this girl think that becoming someone else will solve her problems? Well, I'm trying it, and trust me, it's making me go insane.

Of course, Alessia couldn't hear me. I was living out her life which has already happened, and so it seems that everything will take place as it did no matter what I do now.

When Alessia was finished with copying everything about me, she slid on her blazer whilst she slipped into her shoes. Then, she made her way to her vanity, and I supposed it was to check her reflection one last time or to pick up something she left.

I was wrong.

Alessia opened the top drawer of her vanity, and then I saw it.

My perfume.

Alessia reached out and grabbed it, a smug smile on her face as she spritzed it all over her body. 

I began desperately trying to figure out how she could've gotten her hands onto my favourite perfume. Not even Kiara knew the name of this scent, she only knew that it was from Cuba and that my dad brought some back every time he went to work there. I had been given compliments for its silage ever since, hearing rumours that boys just wanted to hang around me to smell it. I, of course, knew that was a lie or at least an exaggerated truth. But everyone knew it was my scent. A girl in the year below once told me she could distinguish Olivia Clark from the crowd because of the scent. During a game of hide and seek in the dark, a traditional game of our friendship group's, Dylan told me that he had only found me because of the scent.