Flaming Fang

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Troy squinted in the twilight at the address that Sergio had written down 17 E 21st St. then he looked at the address frosted in Black Letter on the window in front of him. This was the right place. He frowned. It wasn't really what he had been expecting.

Sergio had recommended that he take the job with Rosario because he was rumored to be one of the best hair stylists in New York and Troy needed experience. It had seemed like a good idea at the time, but now that he saw the place he wasn't so sure. Sergio had neglected to mention that the salon was called Flaming Fang.

Through the window he could see the unique décor. The walls were red velvet with red lace curtains framing each station's mirror. Sitting serenely in front of the eight garish mirrors were eight black and chrome barber chairs. His eyes travelled up to the ceiling, a gigantic mural of Michael Anglo's Creation of Adam stretched the entire length of the room. Troy's eyes wandered the room in fascination.

He had heard that Rosario was a little odd but he had no idea there was anyone this eccentric outside of the movies until his eyes landed on the figure reclining on a red velvet chaise lounge in the back of the room. The figure was long and lean dressed in the deepest black silk shirt with ruffled cuffs that seemed to elongate his delicate white hands. His hair was platinum blonde stacked and curled in a style reminiscent of the beehive.

Somehow Troy's entranced stare drew the attention of the man. He slowly turned his gaze on Troy and with an elegant motion he crooked his finger beckoning Troy inside. With barely a thought Troy entered Flaming Fang.

"And who do we have here?" The man raised an eyebrow in a predatory gesture. Troy blinked stupidly a couple of times before he realized that he had actually entered the salon.

"Uh...Hi. I'm Troy." He stammered.

"Ah! I love it!" The man jumped up and walked straight up to him. "It rhymes with Joy...and Toy and Boy!" he smirked mischievously. With a swift movement he swung Troy into one of the chairs and began pouring over his hair. "Magnificent!!! Not one split end or mistreated patch." He spun the chair around to face him. "My dear boy, who does your hair?"

"I...I do."

"Seriously? Oh!! I love it." He hopped backward and jumped up onto the counter. He crossed his knees and leaned his chin on his hand, "My dear Joy, you have my undivided attention, he rolled his eyes, "I want to know everything."

"Everything about what?"

"Why, everything about you silly!" Troy squirmed at the way that the man examined him like a hawk checking out a mouse.

"Well," Troy wasn't exactly sure what he wanted to say. "I was sent by Sergio."

"Sergio!! From Madame Tres?" He bounded off of the counter and skipped to the shimmering sliver curtain at the back of the room. He poked his head through and spoke to someone on the other side then turned and eyed him.

Troy sat there speechless as a tall mass of muscles dressed in white loomed through the metallic curtain. Troy squished himself into the chair trying to avoid the stare of the huge man lumbering toward him. He fixed Troy with a silent brooding glare. Then smiled a broad sharp toothed grin and extended his hand.

"Hello, it'th tho nithe to meet a friend of Thergio'th" he lisped in a soft feminine voice that should have belonged to a petite woman. Troy slowly reached his hand out wondering if this was going to be some kind of scene from The Exorcist. With a very limp hand the large man shook Troy's hand.

"Oh I am tho thorry, I forgot to introduthe mythelf, I am Luthius," the large man whispered. He gestured to the other man, "Rothario and I taught Thergio everything he knowth."

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