Being A Douchebag

Chapter [26]

✤ Cassandra Mc’Connell ✤

“Okay. We’ve got two hours to look abso-freakin’ gorgeous.” Kelly commanded. The room was bustling, make-up artists, professional groomers trained in manicures and pedicures, outfit specialists all wandered around their various sectors.

“Kells, was all this really necessary? I’m sure I could have figured out how to put a dress on.” I said flatly.

“No.” She snapped, “No complaining.” With a tone of finality she turned away from me, snapping her fingers. “Okay team fabulous. Let’s go!”

Before I could breathe, I was thrown into a black salon chair. “Woah guys, I really thin—Ow!” A prim-looking lady was now attacking my eyebrows with a pair of tweezers.

I squiggled uncomfortably and the lady tutted, “Honey, unless you wanna come out looking like Freda Kahlo you better keep still.” At that particular moment, I didn’t really care what I looked like.

Grinding my teeth, I sunk my nails into the arm rest as someone began ripping wax strips off my legs. “Kelly!” I screamed. My body had never been pulled in so many directions.

“Shh, babe. No pain, no gain.” She soothed. “Guys, go easy on her.” She spoke confidently. “She’s a virgin to this stuff.” A gasped sailed through the room and I wished the chair could swallow me up. The difference was clear; Kelly sat relaxed with a couple of stupid-looking cucumbers on her eyes while people swarmed her, plucking hairs and smoothing skin. She had obviously done this numerous times before.

“Darling,” A voice drawled from behind, averting my attention. “Is this nest, what you call hair?” His accent was subtly Italian.

I looked past a focused make-up artist into the mirror that lay before me. A lean, smartly dressed man peered back questioningly. His hair was slicked back and by the tail comb that stood poking out of his front-pocket, I could tell he meant business. “If that was intended as a question and not an insult then yes.” I scowled, closing my eyes as a base-coat of gunk was applied onto my face.

He laughed, a deep hearty laugh. “Feisty one huh? Good, they’re more fun anyway.”

I looked at him once again in the reflection as he compared products. “Who are you?” I said indignantly.

“Who am I? Baby, I’m Georgio Consuelos and by the looks of it, the answer to your hair’s prayers too.” Kelly snorted and I glared.

“It’s not that bad!” I pouted as someone filed my nails.

He began to massage some sort of cream into my hair. “That’s what they all say. Just relax honey, Georgio knows what he’s doing.”

“Of course he does.” I rolled my eyes.

Four excruciating hours later and we were done.

“Voila!” Georgio squealed. “A creation is born.” I felt the whole team take a step back to look at their master-piece as a full length mirror was wheeled in front of me. I smiled confused as a wave of relief washed over me.

 At least I was still me, no overdone sparkles or glitter. No bright pinks or extravagant hairstyles.

 Curiously, I raised a hand to explore an elegant brunette curl. “Uh-uh girl.” Georgio scolded as he whacked my fingers with a comb. “That took way to long for you to flatten with your godzilla hands.”

Kelly laughed and flashed me a stunning smile. “You look amazing.” The room was filled with hums of agreement. “You’ll knock Andre’s socks off.”