Attention (fic)
The slutty clothes didn’t even warrant some sort of verbal acknowledgment from her father. Dressing in mini skirts, low cut tops, and backless shirts got her a few grunts from her father, the silver haired man behind the desk in his study. No comment on how she shouldn’t wear that or why she was wearing it, just brief noises that signaled to her that he knew she was there. Not the response she wanted. A few times however she thought she saw him glancing over her, looking at what she wore, and then looking at her. She wondered if the looks were a good thing, or a bad thing. After a few weeks of the behavior, she stopped, clearly the torso revealing tube tops were not working.
She decided a different approach in the following weeks, she would remain elusive, hardly showing up for breakfast or dinner - spending most of her time at work or at school. The reason why she was at school was just another attempt to get her father to notice her, she had, much to her own horror joined the school play. Because there was nothing better to do, and it would give her a chance to force her father to actually watch her perform. To further the humiliation of actually being a theater dork, she was cast as Blanche Du Bois in Tennessee William’s A Street Car Named Desire. She could empathize with the Southern Belle’s decent into madness, she however, would never rely on the kindness of strangers.
The play was a half win and half loss in her book. He showed up, he sat with Alex and Colm in the middle of the theater, he watched the entire performance. At least that’s what Alex said and Colm confirmed it, she didn’t know since she could not spot them in the darkened house, and he did not appear afterward to congratulate her after the show. She accepted the roses from Alex and a big hug, the blond telling her that they were from her and her father, but something had happened and Jimmy had to be called away on account of business. The roses did not make up for the way her stomach constricted and turned over, at the overwhelming sense of frustration and helplessness she felt at the situation. Alex smiled a little, as if she understood, and stroked her step-daughter’s hair. After a brief kiss to her forehead, Olivia was told to go and clean up, they were going to go out and celebrate.
After the play, Olivia felt very much like giving up. There were a number of times in which she honestly considered getting the attention of her father in a negative way. All she needed to do was flunk out of school, bring drugs home and make it obvious, hell she could get drunk again and flap her big mouth and get the shit beat out of her. She was tired of hurting though, tired of attracting negative attention of the man she wanted to please and make proud. So she just kept her head down, she worked hard at school and at work, keeping to herself and ignoring the people around her.
For father’s day she made him dinner, crab stuffed shells in a light sauce and vegetables, she brought it up to his office and set it down on the coffee table along with a drugged glass of wine. He smiled at her, and ate a bit, sipping his scotch instead of the wine and asking her mundane questions about school and work. She answered dutifully and politely, and smiled up at him when he touched her cheek and thanked her for the food, she was about to ask him a question when he stood up and kissed the top of her head. Moving away from her, he walked back to the desk and started to tie his tie, telling her that Alex was taking him out for father’s day - they would be back the beginning of next week, and if she needed anything she could call his phone. Near the verge of tears she nodded and kissed his cheek before picking up the dishes and taking them down stairs.
In school she won the National Merit Scholarship award, during the ceremony she kept her eyes on her feet and accepted the award without a smile. She rode home in the semi-silence of her parents and begged off going out to have a drink and celebrate her accomplishment. By that time she was so tired, and so defeated she didn’t even care that her father showed up, and beamed proudly through the whole entire thing.
That summer, after school let out - they all drove up to upstate New York to the manor house that James Deakins had taken from a rival boss after he had been sent upstate. Buying it at police auction for a quarter for what it was worth was one of the sweetest moments of his life, the old man boasted every time they went up there. Olivia was sick of the story, but loved the house and the horses that occupied the stables, she wished she could visit there more often. Riding was one of her favorite activities, she had begged for lessons when she was younger, and like most things, she was given them. She jumped competitively for a bit, before she started focusing more on school. Still, going up to the house she had no problem saddling up and showing off her talent.
She spent the first half of the day getting use to the saddle and the horse once more, before she allowed herself an indulgence and let the horse run. It was an amazing feeling, wind in her face, tossing and whipping her hair about her eyes as the massive beast tore across the pasture in back of the house. The day after she finally persuaded the stable hand to help set up the jumps for her to use, all of various sizes, she had to badger him more to set one up as high as it could go.
The first four jumps were practice, child’s play really, she and the horse took them easily and professionally. After an hour of the little jumps she eyed the last hurdle, it was easily six or seven feet high and much larger then the jumps she had done before. Still, she turned the horse around and nudged him forward, at the last minute, she pushed and the horse leapt, and made it. Coming down however, was a different matter, unable to land correctly, the horse stumbled and Olivia fell as the horse bucked and tried to get up right again. For a minute, she couldn’t breathe, laying on the ground she struggled to remember how to breathe - as if the fall had knocked the knowledge of such a simple task right out of her head. She could hear running, and struggled to sit up as she saw the stable hand drop down beside her and lower her back to the ground, telling her to relax.
After a few breaths she started to shake, as the adrenaline that had been dumped as a response to her fear at falling began to dissipate she started to shake. Tears rolled down her cheeks as she fought to sit up and walk it off, she wasn’t hurt, just stunned and scared - still she didn’t want anyone else to see that. As she sat up, she was helped up by a hand; she looked up through the tears to see the concerned face of her father. He checked her out, examining her and asking her rough questions that she answered softly. Once he deemed her daughter not dead and or dying he grabbed her in a tight hug and pulled her against his chest. After a long minute in the hug, he pulled her up into his arms and started carrying her to the house.
His voice was tense, he told her how silly it was to do something like that, and she could have been killed. He saw it all and what would have happened if she had been alone, or the horse had kicked her? Even as he reprimanded her, he kept her close, stroking her matted hair and refusing to let her out of his arms in order to do anything. She fought against it for a bit, but then quieted down, enjoying the warmth of his arms and the smell of him, something she had missed for a long, long time. When she started to cry and clutched at his shirt, he rocked her and rubbed her back, as if she was a little girl all over again who had just skinned her knee. After everything, all the attempts, and near hits and misses, she was okay with that.
She decided a different approach in the following weeks, she would remain elusive, hardly showing up for breakfast or dinner - spending most of her time at work or at school. The reason why she was at school was just another attempt to get her father to notice her, she had, much to her own horror joined the school play. Because there was nothing better to do, and it would give her a chance to force her father to actually watch her perform. To further the humiliation of actually being a theater dork, she was cast as Blanche Du Bois in Tennessee William’s A Street Car Named Desire. She could empathize with the Southern Belle’s decent into madness, she however, would never rely on the kindness of strangers.
The play was a half win and half loss in her book. He showed up, he sat with Alex and Colm in the middle of the theater, he watched the entire performance. At least that’s what Alex said and Colm confirmed it, she didn’t know since she could not spot them in the darkened house, and he did not appear afterward to congratulate her after the show. She accepted the roses from Alex and a big hug, the blond telling her that they were from her and her father, but something had happened and Jimmy had to be called away on account of business. The roses did not make up for the way her stomach constricted and turned over, at the overwhelming sense of frustration and helplessness she felt at the situation. Alex smiled a little, as if she understood, and stroked her step-daughter’s hair. After a brief kiss to her forehead, Olivia was told to go and clean up, they were going to go out and celebrate.
After the play, Olivia felt very much like giving up. There were a number of times in which she honestly considered getting the attention of her father in a negative way. All she needed to do was flunk out of school, bring drugs home and make it obvious, hell she could get drunk again and flap her big mouth and get the shit beat out of her. She was tired of hurting though, tired of attracting negative attention of the man she wanted to please and make proud. So she just kept her head down, she worked hard at school and at work, keeping to herself and ignoring the people around her.
For father’s day she made him dinner, crab stuffed shells in a light sauce and vegetables, she brought it up to his office and set it down on the coffee table along with a drugged glass of wine. He smiled at her, and ate a bit, sipping his scotch instead of the wine and asking her mundane questions about school and work. She answered dutifully and politely, and smiled up at him when he touched her cheek and thanked her for the food, she was about to ask him a question when he stood up and kissed the top of her head. Moving away from her, he walked back to the desk and started to tie his tie, telling her that Alex was taking him out for father’s day - they would be back the beginning of next week, and if she needed anything she could call his phone. Near the verge of tears she nodded and kissed his cheek before picking up the dishes and taking them down stairs.
In school she won the National Merit Scholarship award, during the ceremony she kept her eyes on her feet and accepted the award without a smile. She rode home in the semi-silence of her parents and begged off going out to have a drink and celebrate her accomplishment. By that time she was so tired, and so defeated she didn’t even care that her father showed up, and beamed proudly through the whole entire thing.
That summer, after school let out - they all drove up to upstate New York to the manor house that James Deakins had taken from a rival boss after he had been sent upstate. Buying it at police auction for a quarter for what it was worth was one of the sweetest moments of his life, the old man boasted every time they went up there. Olivia was sick of the story, but loved the house and the horses that occupied the stables, she wished she could visit there more often. Riding was one of her favorite activities, she had begged for lessons when she was younger, and like most things, she was given them. She jumped competitively for a bit, before she started focusing more on school. Still, going up to the house she had no problem saddling up and showing off her talent.
She spent the first half of the day getting use to the saddle and the horse once more, before she allowed herself an indulgence and let the horse run. It was an amazing feeling, wind in her face, tossing and whipping her hair about her eyes as the massive beast tore across the pasture in back of the house. The day after she finally persuaded the stable hand to help set up the jumps for her to use, all of various sizes, she had to badger him more to set one up as high as it could go.
The first four jumps were practice, child’s play really, she and the horse took them easily and professionally. After an hour of the little jumps she eyed the last hurdle, it was easily six or seven feet high and much larger then the jumps she had done before. Still, she turned the horse around and nudged him forward, at the last minute, she pushed and the horse leapt, and made it. Coming down however, was a different matter, unable to land correctly, the horse stumbled and Olivia fell as the horse bucked and tried to get up right again. For a minute, she couldn’t breathe, laying on the ground she struggled to remember how to breathe - as if the fall had knocked the knowledge of such a simple task right out of her head. She could hear running, and struggled to sit up as she saw the stable hand drop down beside her and lower her back to the ground, telling her to relax.
After a few breaths she started to shake, as the adrenaline that had been dumped as a response to her fear at falling began to dissipate she started to shake. Tears rolled down her cheeks as she fought to sit up and walk it off, she wasn’t hurt, just stunned and scared - still she didn’t want anyone else to see that. As she sat up, she was helped up by a hand; she looked up through the tears to see the concerned face of her father. He checked her out, examining her and asking her rough questions that she answered softly. Once he deemed her daughter not dead and or dying he grabbed her in a tight hug and pulled her against his chest. After a long minute in the hug, he pulled her up into his arms and started carrying her to the house.
His voice was tense, he told her how silly it was to do something like that, and she could have been killed. He saw it all and what would have happened if she had been alone, or the horse had kicked her? Even as he reprimanded her, he kept her close, stroking her matted hair and refusing to let her out of his arms in order to do anything. She fought against it for a bit, but then quieted down, enjoying the warmth of his arms and the smell of him, something she had missed for a long, long time. When she started to cry and clutched at his shirt, he rocked her and rubbed her back, as if she was a little girl all over again who had just skinned her knee. After everything, all the attempts, and near hits and misses, she was okay with that.