FTRS Shots and Other Stuff

He's Pretty

Beauty is in the eye of the beholder, is what they said. It is subjective; what one's opinions towards what is defined as truly beautiful differs from person to person.

Yet she cannot deny that he was a sight to behold.

***

Gilly was relieved. Maxine and Kayla and Ollie had first picked her as their model for their 'experiment' regarding fashion and trends and make-up, all the frilly nonsense Gilly was not a huge fan of. Yes, she wasn't the same as she was when she was much younger, frankly, she did not mind taming her hair or ironing her uniform now that she was much older. She even let Maxine do her updo, under a compromise of course (no glitter or she'd start sneezing). Still, Gilly declined their proposal. She may like being presentable a bit, but that did not mean she would let herself be dolled up for several hours, scrutinized by her three friends for whatever mischief or interest they were up to.

So there she was in Kayla's home, sitting on a chair with a button for a seat and twigs for the legs, watching her friends prance around in front of a dresser and mirror along with their cornered victim-Jax.

The blond prince had been with her when the trio begged for her to be their model, just exiting the cafeteria after lunch.

"Pretty please? It won't last that long," Kayla begged with puppy eyes, hands clasped in front of her. Gilly looked away; Kayla's puppy eyes often had an effect.

"The last time I said yes, my butt hurt for hours on that chair and all you guys did was cut centimeters of my hair every 10 minutes." It was a waste of time, so to say; they didn't even put her hair up.

"But you won't be sitting the whole time now!" Ollie argued. "The clothes won't be dresses either, so you won't complain about them. Comfy, niche, flowy, and durable too!"

"You stabbed me with not one, not two, but seven pins last time!" Gilly raised her left arm and pointed at her bicep. Then she raised her other arm, pushed her hair up to point at a spot at her neck-all with little red marks, and patted the right side of her waist. "These still hurt when I press them!"

"We won't do that again, promise!" Maxine said, raising a hand as if to pledge.

Gilly shook her head. "I've done this for what-six times already and every single time a new part of my body aches." She crosses her arms. "I'm not doing it again." Their heads drooped in defeat.

Jax, who was idly observing the exchange the whole time, tried to reassure them. "Thief means well you know," he smiled at them. "Maybe you can ask someone else? It's not all the time you have to turn to Gilly."

It was at that moment, Jax did not realize the implications his words inflicted.

As if a spell had been cast, all three of their heads snapped up at the same time. The trio stared at each other, casting swift, knowing looks. Then Ollie turned to Jax, a huge, eager grin growing on his brown face. He placed a hand on Jax' shoulder and stroked his invisible beard. "That gives us an... idea."

It took Gilly a few seconds to interpret the collective twinkle that shone in their eyes.

***

Much to her surprise and to the relief of her three friends, Jax had agreed to be their model for the day. Gilly didn't give him warnings; all she said was, "Good luck."

It had been what-three, four? hours then. She sat there waiting for the final output, reading a book while looking up to check from time to time. She caught glimpses in the mirror; the concentration in Kayla's face, the energy bursting from Maxine's movements, the glee in Ollie's smile, the confused, surprised, taken-aback expressions of Jax, each varying from whenever Gilly checked up on them. They had been doing something to his hair and face, although she was not sure; her chair was a short distance away from the door of the Wingtip dressing room (which was commonly known as Kayla's Lab among their friends).