22. Kiwifruit Tart

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Yesterday night ended without another hitch, but the fact that we had to wake up early today for the photoshoot sucked all the excitement out of me. Even while sitting on the dressing room chair I could feel myself dozing off. "Look up," the hairdresser muttered, but the same instant yanked my hair towards her and I yelped in pain. Oh, so not sleepy anymore! I looked at her accusingly but her eyes seemed to say 'I told you so'. I wanted to retort back but didn't have the courage to say it to her face.

"Close your--" I closed my mouth, eyes, and nose with my fingers just in case, "eyes." The sound of hairspray being showered on my hair filled the air and my heart contracted at the thought of washing all the product out of my hair. It was going to take ages. "You're done. Don't move an inch until your makeup is retouched," she warned, her eyes fiercer than before. I watched her with my mouth agape as she sauntered away from me.

Bea and I looked at each other through our reflections, and her puppy dog eyes met mine as the hairdresser yanked opened her rubber band and picked up the comb. Sorry, Bea, I mouthed back and winced when her hair was pulled back and a thick layer of wax slapped on it.

"Miss Tyler?" I turned around at the sound of my name and saw the makeup artist smiling at me. At least she was humane.

"Yes?" I inquired, and she inspected my face before picking up the concealer again.

"Rough night, huh?" She patted the concealer under my eye and I fiddled with my necklace in embarrassment.

"You could say that," I whispered. And not because of all the drama. I took the courage and called my mother yesterday. It was tough to open up about all the incidents that had happened back in school, but she had listened to me with a warm silence. She didn't console me or anything. I honestly expected that to happen. However, she surprised me by apologizing. It was baffling and embarrassing, but she confessed that she knew I was having a hard time and was upset that she couldn't help. The crack in her voice had undone me and we both cried for a while. I don't know when but our talk shifted to the time when my father was alive and we just talked about him and how he loved the scent of coffee or ran away from home to surf. Even with his carefree personality, he was one person that I trusted the most. His death had shattered our small family into pieces. But I know, if he was alive, he would have been so proud of me for standing up for myself.

"Tyler, we are done!" she chimed. It took me a moment to get back to my surroundings.

I looked at my reflection in the mirror and saw no imperfections. There was barely any makeup, or at least I felt like that. Unlike the hairdo I imagined, it was soft and flowy, only working to enhance my natural features, nothing flashy or showy. A smile crept up my face, and I nodded at her. "Thank you for your hard work."

She responded with a smile and walked over to check up on Bea. From my left, I heard a few footsteps and then a familiar voice. "Your boyfriend would have been drooling if he was here." I instantly turned and saw the casting manager that I had met yesterday. What was she doing here?

"I don't have a boyfriend," I said and earned a dubious look.

"Well, I won't be so hasty to cast away poor Brandon. He looked quite the gentleman." My eyes almost bulged out at her statement, how did she even know him? She answered my silent question with a laugh. "We have the recording of when he gave you that gift."

The recording reminded me of the airport and our farewell and my hands clasped around the tiny infinity necklace Brandon had given me. Only a few days, and I was already developing a habit to fiddle with it every few minutes. "Still, he is not my boyfriend," I insisted, and she narrowed her eyes, "yet," I added the last part under her scrutinizing stare and she grinned.

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