Chapter 8

Lisa's POV

It’s been a few days since Mom was confined in this hospital. The nurses taking care of us are amazing. I found out they were topnotchers in their board exams. Apparently, not just anyone can work here—you either have to be a top passer or have studied abroad. I was in awe. No wonder the rates for staying here are so high. Thankfully, Mom's test results came out well. Good thing we brought her in early—it lessened the complications and the pain she could have felt.

She already started chemotherapy along with several medications she has to take. I never left her side during those days. I even sleep on the couch here. Everything is here—food, clothes, and someone even picks up laundry. Fier arranged all of it.

Someone also arrived to stay with us—Mom's assistant, who also runs errands for us. She’ll also be our house helper in our new home here in Manila. She’s been helping me look after Mom every day.

But tonight, I had to leave to go with Fier to a party hosted by his friend. That’s why I’m here at a salon—he said I needed a makeover, and this is the start of it.

I didn’t say a word to the people around me. They seemed to know exactly what to do, like everything was already planned.

From the large mirror in front of me, I looked at him. He was sitting on a rounded chair behind me, legs crossed, busy flipping through a magazine. Occasionally, he took calls on his phone. I pouted—really, who would believe Fier is in love with someone like me?

He looked so clean and fragrant. His defined arm muscles, long legs, and of course, his handsome face—like a celebrity or a model.

He wore jeans and a plain white v-neck shirt—simple, yet he still looked stunning. His body was so fit. The people at the salon raised their brows when we entered earlier.

Of course, we were holding hands, acting all sweet. He introduced me as his wife. I wanted to disappear out of embarrassment. People whispered, glanced, and looked me over from head to toe.

“This is my wife, Lisa. I want you to do everything to make her look even more beautiful. We’re going to a party later. Is Karen here?” he asked the salon staff.

I was only wearing leggings and an oversized pink shirt. I had on my old Converse sneakers, the ones I use for PE class.

“Sir, yes, she came in earlier. She already dropped off the clothes madam will wear,” said the guy holding a hair blower.

There were no other customers in this salon. It didn’t look like a place that lacked clients though—the place was huge, clean, clearly upscale, located in a high-rise building. The equipment looked expensive. It was obviously not an ordinary salon.

“Okay, then start the work. I don’t want us to be late.”

They rushed to start. One gay guy pulled me to the chair. They all wore black polos with the salon name on the chest. Someone served snacks in front of us. I didn’t say a word. He guided me to the rotating chair and put a black cape over me, then started inspecting my hair.

Soon, they began their work. One squinted at my reflection while checking my hair. Another one got down to my feet. I jumped when he tried to remove my shoes. I insisted on doing it myself, and he backed off. Then another person came in and greeted Fier, holding a fancy bag like she was walking on a runway.

So elegant! Maybe she owns the salon?

“There you are, Sir! Gosh! I already sent the dresses and shoes to the address you gave. I’ll pick up the bags tomorrow. Where’s madam? Oh, it’s you! Hello, I’m Karen. Personal shopper and fashion guru. I’ll teach you everything you need to know... dressing up, makeup, what suits you and what doesn’t.”

She reached out to shake my hand. I gave her an unsure smile. She dressed like Madonna. Well, I knew she was gay, but she was intimidating—like a strict teacher. While she talked to me, she scanned my whole body. I felt it, even with the cape covering me. Her gaze lingered on my face.

“Oh no, no, no! Your skin is so dry. We need to fix that. Same with your body skin. Ugh, so rough! We need to reschedule your spa and facial treatments ASAP.”

I could only gape. She had a point—her hands were so soft while mine... well, yeah, rough. But did she have to announce it out loud?

Hello! There were so many people around, even if they’re her staff—probably? I didn’t know. She never said.

I wonder if she knows about our deal?

“Reschedule all of that. Just let me know. Use the card I gave you. And also, teach her how to be confident,” Fier said, not even looking up from his magazine.

I pouted. Wow. Just because I grew up poor in the province?

“Don’t worry, Mr. Madrigal. I’ll take care of her.”

Karen winked at me before instructing one of the staff to wax my eyebrows. Another gay guy complied.

“Give her a Brazilian treatment. Her hair needs to be smooth and shiny. Just trim a little for now so we can see what suits her. Leave it black. We’ll dye it later,” she ordered the one applying something to my hair.

I closed my eyes as they waxed my brows. I was scared of everything they were doing. I had no idea what I’d look like afterward. Oh well. They seemed experienced. I let them do their thing, even if it hurt my brows and feet.

I didn’t realize I had fallen asleep. I didn’t even know how I ended up in this red room. I was alone and the lights were dim. I felt my clothes—they were the same. I got down from the huge sofa—or was it a bed? A sofa bed?

I heard voices from another room, so I followed them. It looked like a storage or closet room with random things inside.

“H-hello, sorry I fell asleep. Uh, where’s Fier?” I asked shyly. They stopped rummaging through a box.

“Oh, ma’am! You’re awake. He’s in the lounge waiting for you. He said you were sleep-deprived,” one of them said, guiding me to where Fier was.

When we got there, I saw him in the same spot he was sitting earlier. He was in a different outfit now, with a laptop on his lap.

“Oh—hello, wife! You’re awake?” he said sweetly. Some of the gays squealed at his greeting. I saw him roll his eyes at me though—he was annoyed for sure. He hated being kept waiting.

“Sorry, I fell asleep,” I apologized.

“No worries—I know you were tired.” He winked at me, and the others squealed again.

I scanned his outfit. He was now in a polo shirt with the sleeves rolled up and black pants. His fresh haircut made his face even more radiant.

I noticed him looking at me too. I frowned and turned to the mirror where they fixed me up earlier. I blinked. Was that me? I stepped closer. I tilted my head to see both sides of my face.

I barely recognized myself. My hair, my brows, the makeup—was I dreaming? Never in my life did I think I could look like this.

So far from Lisa, the fish vendor from the province.

This is a—

“Beautiful,” someone whispered behind me.

I looked at him through the mirror. He was also staring at my reflection. Our eyes met. I saw something different in his gaze.

He cleared his throat, looked away, and faced the staff again.

“Thank you! Split the tip among yourselves. Get her dressed, or we’ll be late,” he said with a smile, pulling out a few thousand pesos from his wallet, then returning to his laptop.

The gays led me back to the room where I had woken up.

I hadn’t noticed earlier, but there was a mannequin in the corner wearing the dress I was supposed to put on. On the floor was a pair of silver sandals.

They were about to undress me when I refused. Gosh—they’re still men! Maybe effeminate, but still...

“I can do it. I’ll just call if I need help. Thank you!” I clutched my clothes and stepped back. They looked at each other before leaving the room.

I took a deep breath. “Wow.” I scanned the room, checking for any hidden cameras or anything strange. When I found none, I looked at the dress again. They had already taken it off the mannequin. I grimaced at the cut. I lifted it and examined it.

This? Oh, my goodness!