Wrap Me In Plastic And Make Me Shine Novels & Stories

I looked out at the dance floor again, where the music pulsed and the lights painted everyone in gold. “She wasn’t like the others,” I said quietly. “All these women—” I gestured vaguely toward the crowd, “—they’re all polished to perfection. Makeup thick enough to hide who they are. Smile like they’re posing for a magazine cover. Beautiful, sure. But it’s all... plastic.”

His breath ghosts across my cheek, warm and close, and for a heartbeat I forget every part of me that hurts. “Goddess, it is so damn good to see these eyes again,” he whispers. The words hit me harder than they should. I smile, and immediately regret it when pain spears through my nose. I wince, my hand flying up to my face. My fingers smack into something hard and foreign. A massive plastic and metal cage is strapped across my nose. Great. Perfect. Exactly what every girl dreams of. “Ready?” Max asks gently. I nod. Or at least I try to. The movement is pathetic, but he understands.

You make me shiver with the fire you got This thing we started, I don't want it to stop You know you make me shiver-er-er Baby, you burn so hot You make me shiver with the fire you got This thing we started, I don't want it to stop You know you make me shiver Yeah, you got me singin' like Ooh, I love it when you do it like that And when you're close up, give me the shivers Oh baby, you wanna dance 'til the sunlight cracks And when they say the party's over, then we'll bring it right back (oh no) And we'll say, ooh, I love it when you do it like that And when you're close up, give me the shivers Oh baby, you wanna dance 'til the sunlight cracks And when they say the party's over, then we'll b

I laugh and say, "Ha-ha Let's go. We have the get-together at Ava's and we have a party to attend tomorrow and we need our beauty sleep before the Dinner and Gala." We open the door and sit inside. While she is busy starting the car engine, I switch on my bluetooth and connect it to the speaker and start playing Taylor Swift's latest album. We drive away, singing loudly and jamming to the song. I roll down the window, allowing the cold wind to enter. I look outside, admiring the beauty of my neighbourhood and I repeat to myself that everything I achieved is definitely due to the hard work I put in. I couldn't help but think to myself,

Pixie growls and she sends me to the dark corners of her mind. Varla scampers to her feet, quite shocked. Standing in the same spot, a circle of light forms under my feet and my skin begins to glow with sparkling dust. My shimmering silver blonde hair loosened from the elastic that bound the ponytail and cascaded in the air. Varla becomes confused and the crowd gasps and murmurs in awe.

“This is what you’ll be wearing.” I hesitated, then opened the bag. My breath caught. Inside was a royal white shimmer set, an outfit that looked like it had been spun out of moonlight. It was skimpy, yes, but jewelled beads dangled in perfect cascades, catching every glimmer of light. And on top lay a thirty-inch HD lace wig, silky, bone-straight, and customised to fit me glueless. I touched it, the weight of the wig grounding me as the shimmering fabric nearly blinded me.

“She’s here to pay off a debt, not for prestige. But look at her platinum hair, delicate build… I doubt they fed her but she’ll sell well.” Sell. I forced my eyes open. My surroundings blurred, but slowly sharpened into white lights, lace drapes, mirrors lined with bulbs, girls fixing their makeup or giggling as if tonight wasn’t a parade of chains wrapped in glitter. Workers brushed hair, strapped heels, pinned gauzy fabric in place. And me?

I asked for a bottle of water at the bar and looked around. I saw Kim and Cheryl at a table in a corner by the windows, our normal seats, and waved. They finger-waved back, Kim’s stiletto talons decorated in neon green with lots of fake diamonds and gold gleamed at me in the afternoon sunlight. I still didn’t know how she managed to get anything done with those claws of hers, but she did.

The silence in my bedroom was so thick it felt physical, a heavy velvet shroud that muffled the morning light. I sat on the edge of my bed, the silk duvet cool against the backs of my thighs. I was dressed in a tailored charcoal silk jumpsuit—seamless, sharp, and utterly devoid of warmth. Over my shoulders, a heavy cream wool coat was draped like a cape, the weight of it a grounding force. My long blonde hair, meticulously straightened, cascaded down my back like a sheet of spun glass.

“Men cry when they see their wallets after you’re done with them, don’t flatter yourself.” She gasped and clutched her chest like I’d shot her. “Wow. From friend to hater in three seconds flat. Tragic.” I laughed again as I dusted my body with an extra sheen of glitter, the shimmer sticking to my skin and the air around me like smoke. The bass from the main floor thudded faintly through the walls, a steady reminder that soon it’d be my turn under the lights. I adjusted my breasts in the costume that felt two sizes too small.