Gerard Gay

Step One: Makeover (AKA Put On Your Hot Pants)

"So the first thing I'm gonna do is give you a makeover. Since you like Black....I'm not gonna make you as colorful as moi but, you'll still look pretty fab."

He pulled out a Makeup pallet, makeup brushes, hair dye and a pair of scissors. He also pulled out a black dress shirt, eyeliner and new looking black skinny jeans.

"We'll start with hair, I'll dye and cut it for you. First I'll cut. So its less hair to dye, let's be honest sweetheart. You've got a lot of hair."

"You're not gonna cut a lot are you?"

I asked, a bit nervous.

I hate it when people cut my hair... But oddly enough, I trust him.

"No not too much. I'm just adding layers and razoring it to get that look you want. Plus I'm cutting it to go along with your face shape. It'll look amazing. We're dying it black don't worry.

He smiled, fluffing his own hair before taking off his jacket and rolling up the sleeves of his white button up. He grabbed scissors, the dye, a razor and went to work.

*

"Holy shit...I-I love it."

He smirked and ruffled my now chin length, perfectly styled black hair.

"I knew ya would! Cmon sugar, next is makeup!"

He hummed and nearly skipped to my bed, grabbing his pink makeup bin he had brought with him and pushing me down in a chair.

"First things first. Foundation, concealer and powder. I'm keeping to a light ivory color. Since you're snow fuckin white over here."

I felt fingers, brushes and makeup sponges going across my skin as he hummed a song I didn't recognize.

"What song are you humming?"

"Hmm? Oh its called Helena."

I looked at him with a slightly confused face.

"What's the worst thing I could say?"

He sang, goddamn he had the voice of an angel. I looked at him in a bit of awe as he continued singing and smearing makeup on my face and neck.

"Things are better if I stay. So long and goodnight, so long and goodnight."

He smiled as he finished singing, but he continued humming the tune. I was working up the nerve to ask him who it was by when he apparently read my mind and spoke.

"Its by My Chemical Romance. Your band in a dimension."

"Will I be in that band in this dimension?"

"I can't tell you that."

The next twenty minutes of silence were a bit uncomfortable, but I managed to survive them. I got lost in the feeling of brushes, fingers and makeup sponges lightly scraping across my skin and let my mind go blank.

"Ta-daaa! You look absolutely gorgeous!"

He spoke up suddenly, I opened my eyes and couldn't believe it. The man in the mirror was beautiful.

The smudged black eyeliner and the red and black eye shadow made his hazel eyes pop, along with the pale contrast of snow white skin and jet black hair.

He was right...I look..Good. Holy Shit..Remind me to give this man a cookie or something.

He grinned, looking at me. I couldn't help but grin back as I stood up to hug him.

"Thank you, thank you! I look amazing! I love it! Are you a a make up artist or are you just magical?"

He giggled and returned the hug.  As we pulled apart he fixed my hair and spoke.

"I'm not magical, nor am I a makeup artist. I just know what looks good on me. Now don't mess up your hair or fuck up you makeup. Unless its because you had bedroom time with Frankie. Because I'm not fixing it!"

He fluttered his hands, as he ran to grab the outfit he had chosen for me. He threw a black dress shirt, black skinny jeans and black combat boots.

"Mmm, that will look good on you. Now go change pretty boy!"

He winked and pushed me into the bathroom as my face flushed maroon red and shut the door on his way out.

*

After struggling into those tight jeans and fumbling with the buttons on the black button down shirt and lacing up the combat boots I stepped out into the room.

He looked me up and down a few times, studying me intently. I could feel the heat rising to my cheeks as he clicked his tongue in disapproval.

He walked or well strutted up to me and stopped about a foot away.

"You already messed up your hair!"

I sighed, he giggled fixing my hair and adjusting my shirt.

"You look absolutely dashing sweetheart, don't stress. Relax. Smile a little. It'll do ya some good."

I nodded, and he smiled at me. I didn't smile back though, my stomach felt like it was eating itself.

My fucking nerves are gonna kill me. I can't stop panicking...I'm so scared over nothing..

He began leading me out the door, we were in the hallway when he stopped and turned to me.

"So, since you are an awkward fuck...No offense. I'm guessing you're not exactly the master of flirting, correct?"

I mentally smacked myself, nodding and looking down at my awkward knees.

I'm beginning to think...I'm almost more awkward than Mikey right now. Fuckerdoodle.

He fumbled with some keys in his pocket, as he whistled.

"Well sweetheart, you've got your hot pants on and up you shouldn't worry. With an ass like that, no matter how awkward you are, Frank will definitely go after ya."

He dragged me out the door towards a baby blue convertible and got into the drivers seat.

"Are we really having a conversation about my ass?"

I raised an eyebrow and he rolled his eyes.

"Yes darling, you've got such a nice ass. Very round, a bit bigger than most. Its a good size and shape. At least thanks to the jeans I brought you."

He paused, ruffling my hair and putting something on my lips.

Chapstick? Watermelon...Atleast it tastes good..

"You're jeans are too baggy, they don't accentuate your curves. Which brings me to our next lesson, clothe shopping."

I groaned, out loud or internally I'm not sure but I groaned. He rolled his eyes at me, which leads me to believe it was out loud.

"Oh shuhs it'll be fun you grumpy little pickledickle. Now cmon. let's go shopping."

"Pickledickle?"

"Don't question it shithead, get in the damn car, we're going shopping."

I stuck my tongue out, quite childishly and got in the passenger seat.

He grinned like the cocky fucker he was and winked at me.

"Buckle up sweetheart, I don't do slow."

Good god, if there is a god don't let me die.

I buckled my seat belt, just as he sped out of the driveway.