Link From Hairspray Novels & Stories

Hunter returned, holding a plastic mixing bowl in one hand and an application brush in the other. Inside the bowl was a frothy blue mixture that reeked of chemicals strong enough to make my eyes water. I recoiled slightly, nose wrinkling as I waved a hand in front of my face. “What the hell is that?” I asked, eyeing the suspicious concoction like it might come alive and eat me. He smirked, setting the bowl down on the vanity in front of me. “Powdered bleach. Gotta lighten your hair first so the pink sticks better. Otherwise, you’ll just end up with a muddy mess.”

And cut. I don't cry. I don't hesitate. This hair was the hair Aureliano stroked. This was the hair Spadino buried his face in. This was the hair Ciro held when he fucked me. It has to go. When I am done, my hair is a jagged, chin-length bob. It looks rough. Angry. I take out the box of hair dye. Jet Black. I mix it in the sink. The chemical smell burns my nose. I slap the black sludge onto my head, rubbing it into my scalp until it stains my skin.

'Goddess save me. She batted, over mascaraed lashes exposing the bright comically blue shadow over her lids, her hot pink lips curving into a saucy smile as she leaned forward enough to push her cleavage until it was about to bust from her too-tight shirt. Her teased hair failed to move with her, the scent of hairspray making me want to sneeze.

And I had a lot more hair then. "Are we done yet?" I heard the top pop off a spray bottle. "Nope. You're just lucky you have relatively fine hair and I don't have to backcomb it." I heard the hiss of the hairspray bottle begin, and I swear it went on for ten solid minutes. But when the haze cleared, I'll admit my hair looked good. Vicky was standing behind me, looking into the mirror. "Awesome. So, should I get dressed now?" Vicky laughed like I'd made some sort of joke.

“Confidence is sexy, remember?” I nodded at her, but I didn’t feel confident at all. I felt like this was only going to end in disaster. I put the sandals on while she was trying to figure out how my hair should be done. I threw it up in a messy bun like yesterday. She pulled a couple wisps to frame my face and the look was mostly set. She added a silver hair clip that had dark purple and clear stones arranged like a flower with light purple stones arranged as leaves. When did that piece get added? Did he sneak that one in too!? “Perfect as always!” She sprayed me with the hibiscus perfume and then herself. We joined Bart and Conor at the table.

I’d let it get too far. Too out of control. Rhea Lydia and I spent the afternoon on the pink tiles of her bathroom floor. To soften the blow of the news I’d have to give her soon, I’d promised her any activity she wanted. Her request? She wanted her hair to match mine. Red. She was just a pup, and I wasn't about to put harsh chemicals on her hair. I’d asked Mrs. Delgado for several packets of red fruit drink powder. Within forty minutes, a courier had delivered them.

Zylon's mid-length blonde-golden hair complemented his piercing blue eyes, while Hayes's short tousled black hair framed his captivating onyx gaze that pulled me in. 'Mate,' Ria declared, her excitement undeniable. My eyes widened in shock when I realized the irresistible scent was coming from one of them... or both!

And, equally gradually, she began to wonder whether he was just miffed, because she hadn’t woozed all over him the minute he turned on his flutter techniques. Eventually he shot her a sideways glance. ‘Your hair hasn’t flopped once today. What have you done? Super- glued it?’ His short tone provoked an equally short reply. ‘More or less. Half a can of hairspray.’ ‘I think I prefer the flop.’ Such typical male perversity got all her latent prickles going. ‘I didn’t do it for you. I did it to stop it driving me mad. Anyway, I thought it was driving you insane.’

Talk about killing 2 birds with 1 stone. I braided my hair into a perfect French braid and tucked the braid into a neat bun at the nape of my skull. I secured the hell out of it with bobby pins and doused it in hairspray. Not a single strain of my hair was loose. I normally didn’t use a lot of hair products because I hated washing my hair every day. But today can be an exception. I have to look perfect. I have to set a good example for my work center. Sometimes, I hated being a 1st class. I hated responsibilities. Today is one of those days. No sleep meant being a bitch.

Darla screamed at the top of her lungs. "You're so nasty, Darla," Lauren groaned, rolling her eyes. "Enid, finish your hair. We'll get the door." I grabbed my brush and gave my blonde locks one last frantic stroke. I needed to look like a Barbie, but a Barbie who definitely knew her way around a bedroom. I sprayed my signature fragrance, the $300 bottle that William said smelled like pure, unadulterated sin, then floated into the living room.