Chapter 1

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So after approximately 800 years, here it is, the first chapter of Undress to Impress. From this point forward, the updates will be pretty regular, so I hope it was worth the wait.

As for warnings: There will be some darker topics, such as sexual harassment, drugs/alcohol, violence, etc. Also, as mentioned before, there will be quite a bit of smut (more than any of my other fics, at least), but don't read if that's all you're here for, because there will be an actual plotline. This thing is probably gonna be around 40 chapters long, maybe longer, so yeah.

I'm extremely proud of this chapter, so I hope you enjoy :)

Chapter 1 - Turn On The Charm For Me Tonight

I wake up to the sound of banging pots and pans.

"Ah!" I yell, my eyes flying open. Above me, Mike is grinning. He’s stopped now, but my ears are still ringing.

"Happy birthday," he sings.

"Too soon," I complain, covering my face with my hands.

"Nope. Time to get up, Victor. You have a very special day ahead of you." He bangs the pots and pans together one more time for emphasis.

I groan. “What are you, twelve?”

He smacks me.

After a few moments, I pull myself out of bed, about to head downstairs when I see him standing in the doorway to Mom’s bedroom. I slow down.

"Mom," Mike is saying. "Do you know what day today is?"

I peer over his shoulder. Mom is lying in bed, looking like she’s hungover (because she probably is). She hasn’t even bothered to pull the covers up. “I’m pretty sure it’s Wednesday,” she says.

"Friday, Mom," Mike replies dryly. "But I meant the actual date."

"Mike," I hiss. "Leave her alone. Let’s just go."

Mike shakes his head, his demeanor changed from excited to sullen. “I just want to see something.”

Mom rubs her eyes. She seems to be thinking. “It’s February, right? February…fourth, maybe?”

"It’s the tenth," Mike says. "Do you know what’s special about that?"

"Mike," I repeat. "Stop. You don’t have to do this for me."

Mike doesn’t listen. “Vic’s turning eighteen today,” he snaps. “I thought you’d be sober enough to remember your own son’s fucking birthday.” With that, he storms away, down the stairs.

"Mike," I call after him, glancing at Mom. She doesn’t seem at all fazed.

"Happy birthday, Vic," she says, still sounding completely out of it.

"Thanks," I say softly, before turning and chasing Mike down.

As we’re getting ready for school, I tell him, “That was kind of rude. You don’t have to give her a hard time.”

"Well, she needs to get it together."

"Come on. You can’t expect her to remember something like my birthday when she’s so busy thinking about…"

I trail off then, and Mike gives me a hard stare. “Well, maybe the love of my life died, too, but I still remembered.”

I don’t respond to that. I just say, “Are you ready to go?”

"Yeah," he says, seeming to calm down. "Let’s wait outside."

So we sit down on the front porch, and a few minutes later, our friends Jaime and Tony pull up in Tony’s beat-up red car. Jaime is in the passenger seat, as usual, and Mike and I hop into the back.

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