The Gown (Soon to undergo MAJOR editing)

The Gown- Prologue

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Hey readers!

This is my first EVER story on Wattpad, so I'm really nervous posting this up.... Give it a try, I'm sure you'll like it and please try commenting and voting...

Oh and the first chapter is a bit boring because I'm trying to develop the setting, plot, etc but as you read on you'll realise that there in fact is a lot of dialogue :)

Thank you so much for reading this!

-Mary

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The Gown- Prologue:

I stared glumly at the unfamiliar sight outside, through the scrubbed windows, feeling horribly aggravated. I took in the ridiculously tall buildings that were the type which make your neck ache when you attempt to see all the way to the top.

I had already tried looking for a clothing store where I would actually reduce myself to purchase something-anything really.

New York City, supposedly one of the best cities in the world for shopping.

Yet I couldn't find a single store where they were actually selling something I would wear, let alone have a price tag which wouldn't make the average person crap themselves on the spot.

I wanted something vintage and girly (not girly as in the hot pink and sparkles way- eugh).

Something similar to what I was dressed in at the moment- a sheer pleated cream skirt, tucked in by a belt with a floral lightly knitted sweater, along with my maroon doc martens.

I didn't want to wear crazy fashion off the latest runway.

I didn't care if frankenshoes were the hottest thing out, or if clashing made you look more 'chic'.

Don't get me wrong, I'm definitely not the type of person who rebels and is a total sociopath. In fact I'm quite the opposite.

I never skip school; get straight A's (well um excluding math) and I hardly do anything big without getting my step-mother to approve (As though she even bothers to care half the time).

I have friends and my own social group and it's all pretty smooth. Correction: it was all pretty smooth. Back in Australia that is.

Here I am, completely alone- uh alone as in no friends in New York- and it all is supposedly for my sake.

Yeah, despite my protests and pretended fits, somehow-don't ask me how- I actually wanted to come to New York.

My parents actually think that I'd actually like to move to New York and actually leave my friends and actually leave my family and my life and everything back in Australia.

And guess what for? For the sake of my studies. Uhuh. Real cliff-hanger. Did I mention they actually thought that yet?

"Amberley, sweetie, would you like to come with me to the private spa and massage session tonight." My step-mother, Janise asked, whilst running her perfectly manicured fingers over a designer scarlet silk dress which probably had the same cost of a buffet breakfast, lunch and dinner for a family of ten in Afghanistan for an entire year. If not more.

"The spa is entirely chocolate, and" she added charmingly, as though I would actually get tempted. "Paine will be there. You do remember the masseuse, don't you?"

Eugh. I sure did. Paine was the topless masseuse my mother actually thought was in love with her.

Actually pretty much all of my step mother's filthy rich circle of friends, who were all over 40 mind you, had some wild dream that the gorgeous 24 year old masseuse was head-over-heels for them.