Flinch {A Mike Dirnt Fan Fic}

Flashbacks

Her small dress was riding up her thighs the more she tried to move fast. She struggled to pull it down. Causing cat calls and barking to erupt from the main lobby.

My mother entered through a tight black door. To reveal a big room, full of clothing racks, travel vanities, and groups of women of all ages and races. They all dressed in skimpy outfits, some didn't even choose to wear any clothes.

The hair was bigger than ever. Nails were long. Some even applied fake beauty marks, as if to fulfill the profile of Marilyn Monroe. Many girls took notice of my presence. Some looked a little annoyed, others frightened. Some even looked a little childlike.

"Grace! Is this the little Charlotte you've been talking about?" A lady said, with a big brown perm, and overly drawn lips. My mother nodded, almost ashamed. "May I ask, why is a minor here?" She asked, a little more serious. Her eyes seemed innocent and unaware. But her words were as stern as a mothers.

"Oh, um...her father had other plans." My mother spoke, dropping my hand and crossing her arms over her chest. "I just didn't want to be irresponsible and leave her at home."

"And you're not being irresponsible by taking her to...this?" The lady spoke. "This isn't a environmental place for children." She then realized her that I was a child, and partook in noticing I was standing right there. Her eyes became more doll like, and she had an innocent smile.

"Grace! You're out in a minute!" A man spoke, who seemed to be dressed in a pair of black pants and shirt. He also had a reciting hairline. He then disappeared.

"Oh shit." My mother mutters. She looks around frantically, as if to search for her own individual vanity. "I just couldn't be late Jess. Could you do the favor as to watch over Charlotte while I work?" She spoke, sliding off her animal-printed rain jacket.

The girl who spoke before gave an annoyed look, but them exchanged a nod in return. "Only till my shift starts." She spoke sternly, waving a finger at my mothers face. She rolled her eyes.

"Fine. My shift basically ends when yours does." She spoke, frantically plugging in her hair curler. And she proceeded to apply fake eyelashes. I just stood there for a while, watching and studying her.

I never understood what my mothers job was in the first place. Sure, people have called her names from what I did think to be her job. But all the scowls and growls she sends back to the comments tells me that she doesn't find those to be a fitting place.

The lady from earlier crouched down on her knees so she could be at eye level with me. She grinned widely. "Hello, I'm Jessica. I think we'll be best friends!" She squealed. I could practically feel my mothers eyes rolling.

"I'm Charlotte." I answer, smiling back. She helped me slide off my coat, and place it on a rack next to another vanity. She then guided me to a swivel chair that had the ability to rise up like a barbers chair.

She props me up on the seat, and pumps the metal bar many times. She then stops till I'm at arms hight with her. "Do you like your hair curly? Or straightened?" She asked, fishing through a drawer in her vanity.

"Curly!" I spoke, bouncing in my seat. She smirked, almost in admiration that she was bonding with a child. She fishes more and more through the drawer. Barrels of different sizes fly onto the floor. She threw out all the bigger ones. Perhaps looking for the smallest.

"Jess, what the hell are you doing?" My mother spoke up, glancing over from her curling iron. "I told you to watch her, not convert her into your little cult of curly hair." She says annoyingly and a little teasingly. Jessica glances over and rolls her eyes.