When Frankie saw Hope, his mouth gaped open much like a fish. He couldn't seem to shift his eyes from the nest of hair on her head. He looked to be in pain as he politely asked Hope to take a seat in his chair while his assistant Jet unfolded a cape around her torso.
While Jet was asking Hope if she'd like tea, water, or coffee before they started, Frankie clutched Sammy's arm in a tight squeeze and propelled him away from the styling chair.
"What is this?" Frankie asked in a whisper to Sammy, gesturing to her hair with his hands. "What in the world have you brought me? What has been done to this poor soul?"
Sammy snaps his fingers.
"Work your magic, Frankie. Jesus knows she's gonna need it."
"Half of the hair on her scalp will come out if I even attempt to brush it out!" He argued.
Sammy shrugs. "Chop it off if you have to. It's not like she's auditioning to be the sixth member of the spice girls. You need to fix this mess I have on my hands and make her look human again. She looked like she was living in a cave."
Frankie rubs his neck, looking past his shoulder back at Hope. "I can cut it to her shoulders and try to untangle the rest. I'd recommend we dye it dark blonde perhaps and add extensions to replace the length she's missing. I'll need more than half the day to fix this mess."
"Do what you need to do, honey. I was given a job to do." Sammy takes out Zayn's titanium black credit card and waves it in front of him. "Don't worry about the cost. Just. Fix. It. My reputation is on the line." He insists.
Frankie and his assistant Jet went to work. First, they cut out the thick knots then lathered her hair in a deep conditioner for about an hour before they attempted to brush it out. After three broken hand brushes, another round of deep conditioner, haircut to her shoulders, a Brazilian blowout, they began dying her hair. Frankie unboxed tape extensions and laid them out perfectly to begin the process while the heating apparatus was hovered over Hope's head to speed up the transfer of color.
While Sammy waited he had his own hair trimmed, his brows waxed and got a pedicure for his troubles. All included on Zayn's tab.
After an extra two hours, the extensions were applied, Hope's hair was styled and a finishing mist was sprayed all over to keep the style in place. Hope's chair was turned for Sammy's inspection.
"Now that's what I'm talking about!" Sammy says, pleased with the results. "Frankie, my man, fine job!"
Hope blushes, sinking into the chair.
Frankie wiped his brow. "Thanks, lovey. Just when I believed I've seen it all. . ."
"Oh my Jesus! Now that her hair's been taken care of, look at her brows! If they could talk they'd be crying for help. Oh Natasha!" Sammy hollers with a quick clap to gain the Russians attention.
"Yes darling!" A voluptuous blonde dressed in white scrubs responds, turning away from the front desk.
Natasha was one of the best esthetician in England. She did everything from skin treatments to hair removal.
Hope's eyes widen in her small face.
"Natasha can wax anything, I only recommend the best money can buy." Sammy explains, patting her shoulder.
"This is the girl you spoke about?" Natasha approaches, her Russian accent thick. Her hot pink nails were long and sharp. Her lips were extra plump, glossed in hot red lipstick, her platinum blonde hair was pulled back in a neat bun and her eyebrows were perfectly arched as if they were traced by an artist's crafty paintbrush.
She inspects Hope with a critical hard stare. Lifting her chin with one of her pointy fingernails, Natasha tilts Hope's face turning it right then left.
Hope was gripping the sides of the chair she was seated on, rigid like a board.
"Oh and If her delicate areas are anything like her eyebrows, she's gonna need a Brazilian, a FULL Brazilian. I want her so bald, I can see my own reflection." Sammy states.
Natasha arches a fine eyebrow. "All the hair on her body?"
"Everything." Sammy insists. "Right Hope?" He asks, turning to her.
Hope could only nod.
"Come with me darling." Natasha orders Hope, sauntering ahead to the room where she prepares for the procedure.
Frankie's assistant Jet unclipps the cape from her neck. However, Hope did not make a move and stayed rooted to the styling chair.
"She scares me." She whispers.
"Who?" Sammy grips her arm and helps her up. "Natasha? She's just that way, she don't bite. She's seen more vaginas in her day than the average fuck boy. Don't sweat it. Trust me it doesn't hurt, just a little sting. You're gonna feel as smooth as a newborn baby by the time she's finished. After this I'll take you shopping and spend a shit load of money. It'll make up for all the torture you had to endure."
"Torture?" Hope squeaked, dragging her feet as Sammy led her to Natasha's room.
"Oh shit." Sammy reprimands himself quietly. "I meant the countless hours you had to endure in the salon." He corrected, waving dismissively as if it was nothing.
"Please Sammy don't leave me." Hope begged.
"Don't worry. I ain't gonna miss this for the world! Natasha's gonna make you all smooth and pretty. She's gonna take care of all them cobwebs outta yo vajayjay. Girl, trust me, you're in good hands. You have the best team working for you. Besides, we practically have Jesus on speed dial up in this bitch doing the good work of the lord. Miracles in the making. . ." He sang.
Sammy helped usher Hope inside to prepare her as she undressed behind the privacy screen. He watched her emerge with a robe draped over her slim figure, her face pale and her eyes weary.
"I'm gonna help you forget all about it." He encourages Hope to lay on the bed, helping her get comfortable. "What'd ya say about us getting white girl wasted after all the fabulous shit we gonna buy?" He squeals in excitement. "Makes me sparkle just thinking about it!"
He fans himself and Hope looks at him oddly.
"Sparkle?" She asks in a small voice.
"I'll explain it later." He says, helping her climb on the towel covered bed.
Hope glances at the tray on a nearby table with tools laid out. It looked like they were going to perform some kind of surgery on her. She was scared.
His view of Hope's delicate parts was covered with a white sheet.
At one point, Sammy had to hold Hope's hand like she was going through labor pains and popping out a baby. Her screams were so loud they had to be subdued with her biting on a leather silicone bit gag. Hope's eyes were on the brink of bulging out of her face and she tried many many times to get up.
Sammy was the ever supportive side kick wiping the sweat off her forehead, petting her head fondly and murmuring close to her ear.
"Atta girl. Just endure the pain. I'm gonna give you advice a friend would only give you: the only time you don't wax your kitty is when playboy is being a douche. That's when you let it grow and see how he likes his taco all fuzzy. He won't upset you ever again, and you can quote me on that, babydoll."
Hope moaned in mortification turning redder in the face and the sweat on her temple flowed.
"Look at ya sparkling all over the place! You're lucky Natasha can get the hair off with the wax. I thought she'd pull out a chainsaw."
The bit gag slipped from Hope's lips and she tried once more to try to get up.
Natasha sits up straight, holding her pink gloved hands up, impatience etched on her face.
Sammy holds her down.
"Relax Chewbacca, I'm kidding." He tells her. "Prodolzhat' Natasha." (Continue, in Russian)
Natasha grunts in agreement and goes back to work behind the white sheet.
"How many vaginas do you wax a day, Natasha?" Sammy asked as though he was casually talking about the weather.
"Too many. . ." She replies in her heavy Russian accent.
"And balls?"
"Not enough!" She snapped.
"That's a shame." Sammy agreed.
"Is she angry with me?" Hope whispered.
"Heavens no! It's got nothing to do with your vajayjay. . . I mean look at it this way, would you be happy ripping a bitches pubes all day, everyday?"
Hope could only shake her head.
"Didn't think so."
Natasha worked endlessly all the while muttering in Russian. It took her well over an hour to wax her legs, underarms and bikini area. There was so much hair some areas needed to be redone to eliminate all the hair.
Hope's skin was on fire. Her skin felt like it was flailed alive. Her legs were shaking so bad, they had to be strapped. She was numb, desensitized, unable to move. Although Natasha applied soothing aloe to treat the stinging, it did nothing to ease the discomfort. Not to mention the embarrassment. She could not remember her previous life, but she could bet she had never, ever, been so bare and on display in front of anyone in her entire life.
It reminded her of her vulnerability. Her helplessness. At the mercy of a stranger, no less. She wanted to change, needed it, but she didn't believe in a million years it would be excruciating to this degree.
It was true what everyone said: There's a price to pay for beauty.
"Remember Natasha, I want to be able to see her lashes from the moon."
Hope heard Sammy speak somewhere to her left. Turning her face to the sound of his voice she found him fanning himself with a magazine while a neat martini was placed on an end table, now seated comfortably in Natasha's room.
It surprised her that salons served alcoholic drinks. Then again, she'd never been in one to know.
Much to Hope's relief, the worst of her pain was dissipating when the old sheet she was covered in was replaced with a fresh white one. Lately she learned the color white was not one of her favorites. It reminded her of the hospital. The days and nights she spent there unable to move wrapped in bandages and casts, were forever engraved in her brain.
Every single muscle in her body was tense and coiled but when she watched Natasha strip off her pink gloves, she was able to semi-relax. The waxing part was done.
Natasha made a tsk sound with her tongue. "I must give her a facial first, pluck her eyebrows, mustache, then we will finish with a set of lash extensions."
More? Hope thought in despair.
At least she had thought about it. It wasn't until her attention was captured by a loud clap to her left.
"Honey, I haven't even started!" Sammy exclaimed, pointing a finger in her direction and taking a delicate sip of his martini.
Hope squeezed her eyes shut, fisting her slender hands across her middle concentrating on the soft music playing and the scent of flowers infusing the room.
Just endure it. It'll be over soon. When I see the end result, it'll be worth it, she chanted. Remember why you're doing this. . .
"Oh Natasha! Why don't we have Stella give her a mani and pedi while you're finishing up her face. It'll save me time, cause I have a hella lot of shopping to do."
Sammy crosses his legs and immerses himself in the VOGUE magazine he was previously fanning himself with.
Hope's eyebrows were waxed and plucked. Her upper lip was waxed too. To her relief, It wasn't as painful as the rest of her body.
The skin of her face was exfoliated, steamed, massaged along with her neck and shoulders. This part of the process was perfectly relaxing, much to Hope's surprise. For once in her life she was enjoying something.
Her fingernails were being worked on at the same time. They were cut exceedingly short and acrylic nails applied to the tips for length with a coat of gel nail polish. Sammy was giving specific instructions on how he wanted them to appear. Something about a French tip which Hope did not understand.
The very last item on the list was her toes. They were soaked, the dead skin removed, her toe nails cut, shaped, and a pretty pink nail polish was applied.
Hope couldn't wait to see what she looked like. She already felt like a new polished person.
Through the process of getting her hair done, the mirror she was in front of her was covered so she couldn't see her appearance. It was Sammy's direct request. And now that she was nearly transformed literally from head to toe, it was time to reveal her new look.
"See? Wasn't that easy peasy lemon squeezy?" He asked.
Hope huffed. "I wouldn't call the pain easy. . ." She said under her breath. "How would you know how it feels?"
Sammy's eyes pop. "Baby, I get every inch of my body waxed monthly! I can't stand those prickly little sprouting bastards!"
Hope's mouth hung open, not believing her ears. Men get waxed?
"You better believe it!" Snapping his fingers. "It's called manscaping!"
Wait, did she say that out loud? She really needed to keep her mouth from blurting out her thoughts. It had been so long since she'd spoken to people, it was hard to concentrate and keep quiet anymore.
"Nothing's better than feeling smooth like a new born baby. You should adopt my motto in life: Go all the way or go home! Next time it won't hurt as much, I promise. Now is the important part of this day!" He exclaimed.
Hope smiled, blushing at his enthusiasm. She was eager and more than ready. She stood in the plastic flip flops she was given to wear so her new pedicure wouldn't smudge, still dressed in the robe.
Sammy removed the towel covering her hair and rearranged it over her shoulders, fluffing it as he went around her, adding volume.
Sammy led her by the hand from Natasha's room back into the salon. To Hope's surprise, the salon was no longer full of the stylists and their clients' loud chatter. It was nearly empty except for the employees cleaning up their stations for the day.
She turned her head and noticed a large clock and her eyes doubled. It was well past six o'clock in the evening.
They had been at the salon since early morning.
"Frankie, will you do the honors?" Sammy asked.
Frankie smiles and turns the mirror as they stop just before the chair she sat in earlier for endless hours as they worked on her nest-like hair.
At first, Hope was in disbelief. The young woman staring at her was shocked. Big eyes widening in the mirror.
This was her?
Was this a dream? She wondered, touching her face and advancing close to the mirror.
The nest was gone and replaced by super smooth, wavy luxurious honey-red hair styled in waves around her face and well passed her shoulders, nearly reaching her waist. Hope tentatively touched her new silky hair. It was so soft and thick she didn't realize hair could look or feel so glamorous.
All she knew before the reveal was the scent of her hair. It smelled like perfume. Now it looked like a masterpiece, as if she stepped out of a magazine or the billboards she's seen so many of in windows of shops while she was roaming the streets of London.
Her eyebrows were perfectly arched, her eyelashes thick, black, and naturally long. The skin of her face appeared flawless and smooth.
She looked like one of those beautiful models. And she was in awe.
For the very first time in her life she felt pretty. She had changed dramatically. From night to day.
The girl reflecting back at her in the mirror smiled in pleasure. Her eyes were unsure, but her face. . . It was beautiful. She'd never thought never in a million years the results she was seeing were possible. Her cheekbones were more defined. Her eyebrows were perfect, her lips full and expertly traced with color.
Her hair. . .wow, she thought. She couldn't get enough of it.
It was hard for her to accept the reflection that stared back at her.
Hope never noticed the crowd behind her until her audience broke out in applause. Startled, she turned quickly to find all the stylists clapping with wide smiles while nodding their approval. She turned a dark shade of scarlet at the attention and instinctively lowered her head in embarrassment.
"Uh, uh, uh hold your head up high and be confident like you were wearing a real crown on your head, girl!"
Hope found Sammy beside her, with a frown.
"Be proud of what you're seeing." He insists. "Soak up the attention like a flower meeting the sun for the first time! You're gonna have male dogs panting at your high heels once I'm finished. Pretty woman, here we come!"
Sammy let out a loud wolf-whistle.
Hope wished she could match his enthusiasm. Of course she was pleased with the results.
The truth of the matter was, she didn't want to gain more attention. She was trying to have a fresh start at life, nowhere in that plan did she want to share it with anyone, let alone a man. Plus, the last thing she needed was people staring.
Sammy tapped the watch on his wrist. "Lets hit the boutiques before they close. I want his royal hotness to see the complete transformation. Tomorrow we'll spend the entire day shopping till we drop! Come on, let's get outta here!"
He began tugging on her wrist forcing her to turn from the mirror. Hope would have liked to spend more time to absorb the change. She could have stared in the mirror for hours and never got enough of her image. Internally she sighed, giving her reflection one last glance before turning away and heading back into Natasha's room to change back into the borrowed jeans and long sleeve shirt from Zayn's sisters clothes.
Once she emerged, the salon was empty except for Frankie and Sammy at the reception desk. Hope watched as Sammy pulled out a black card, handing it to Frankie, and wondered how much all of that work that was done for her cost. It must have been expensive.
Guilt exploded in her chest. She never wanted to be a burden to anyone let alone have someone spend so much money on her. Hope had nothing to repay Sammy or Zayn with except her thanks. It wasn't enough for their generosity.
Hope sighed with disappointment. Perhaps someday she could offer them something back.
Perhaps.
Sammy faces her now with his hands carrying bags. A look of determination crossed over his face.
That look slightly scared her. If it was up to her, she would be done for the day. She was utterly exhausted.
"Let's get outta here. I've purchased enough products to last us for the next 3 years. Next stop, designer."
Hope groaned and reluctantly followed him.
"I heard that!" He called out over his shoulder. "Look when it comes to shopping, women don't need men. . ." He pushed the door and held it open with his body allowing her to pass. "Well. . .Except for their credit cards. When there's no man in the picture, there's vibrators, dildos, ice cream, Target and gay best friends, like moi!"
Hope rubbed at her temples in defeat. "What have I gotten myself into?" She muttered.
"There's no sleep for the wicked and lonely, baby!"
Were all Americans like Sammy, she wondered?
____________________________________________________________________________
Next chapter, Hope will be revealed to Zayn.
Fun fact: My hair stylist's name is Frankie. And no he is not British, only in Zayn's story. :)
Who do you think should play Hope?
Any guesses who I may have chosen?
Here's a hint: she is a celebrity, her hair is long, she has beautiful plump lips, and an equally beautiful smile. . .
I will be posting more hints all week on my instagram page @shaerzam, check it out!
I regularly include sneak peeks of quotes and pictures regarding everything for the "His" series
As always thank you for reading!
Please show your support by voting, commenting and sharing this story with others.
Until next Friday.✨
-Shaz