Reformed

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The next week is a blur dresses and glamour. It's almost like it used to be. Almost.

"No, not that one," Ray, my personal stylist remarks,"Blue washes you out."

"Well I think she looks beautiful," Jason grabs me by my waist and turns me around.

"Jason," I warn. I wonder if I could learn to love this man, with his kind smile, and dark eyes.

"She's going on air in front of billions of people. We can do better than that," Jason says. I try to grin, but my mouth goes slack. "What about this?" He holds up a long red dress, plenty of cleavage.

"Try it on," Ray demands. He runs a finger through my shorn raven hair, "What do you think about blonde." Jason swats his hand away. 

"She looks beautiful naturally." I walk behind a green curtain to undress. I have lost weight everywhere, but the red brings out vibrancy. 

"You look nice, but you're still going to have to wear a wig." He pulls out a large dark mop of hair.   

"Wow," Jason says, seeing me, as if for the first time, "You look..."  No. I can't do this. Not again.

"I'm going for a run."

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