Cousin Amy 18

Chapter 18: Tinted Reflections

Emily's salon was a serene oasis of calmness, punctuated only by the soft hum of hairdryers and fragments of conversations drifting from nearby chairs. In this tranquil atmosphere, Scott sat, his hair divided into neat sections and wrapped in foils, while his mind was anything but calm. As the dye worked its magic, adjusting the colour of his natural hair to match the newly added extensions, his thoughts weighed heavily on him. Catching his distant expression in the mirror, Emily pulled up a chair beside him.

“Are you okay?" she asked, her voice carrying a concern that matched her furrowed brow.

Scott managed a weak smile, the strain behind his eyes betraying his casual front. "I’m fine," he lied smoothly, though the tightness in his voice suggested otherwise.

Emily wasn’t convinced. "Well, that’s not true, is it?" she pressed, her gaze piercing. "You’ve been acting strange ever since you came back from rehab, but I can still tell when something is bothering you."

The word ‘strange’ sent a chill through Scott, raising goosebumps along his arms. "Strange how?" he inquired, his voice laced with a hint of defensiveness.

"Well," Emily began, her fingers tapping rhythmically against the arm of her chair as she contemplated her words. "You’re politer than you used to be, calmer when making decisions. And you definitely don’t speak as much," she declared, her face scrunched in thought. "It’s like you’ve become a totally different person."

Scott remained silent for a moment, wrestling with his response. Part of him wanted to scream, "That's because I am," but the rational part of his brain held him back. "Well, rehab gave me a lot of time to think and taught me a lot," he said finally, nodding to emphasize his point, the foils in his hair rustling softly. "I’ve also got a lot on my mind at the moment," he added, his mind racing for a safe topic to divert the conversation.

"Like what?" Emily leaned in, her expression softening. "Tell me. I want to help."

Scott knew he couldn’t divulge the truth about assuming his cousin's identity or the mess with Jessica. Instead, his mind drifted back to the unexpected encounter on the street. The man who had kissed him, Lewis, had texted later that evening. A bit of quick digging had unearthed a tumultuous on-off relationship between Lewis and Amy, one that stretched back for years.

"I saw Lewis the other day," Scott said, forcing a pout. "He kissed me."

Emily’s reaction was immediate; her frown deepened. "You’re not back with him, are you?" she asked sharply.

"No," Scott replied quickly, relieved to steer the conversation away from more perilous waters. "He wanted to meet, but I came here instead."

"Good," Emily responded, her tone firm. "I know you guys have history, but enough is enough, Aimes. I’ve lost count of how many times you’ve cried on my shoulder after that arsehole broke your heart with his empty promises. He’s a player, and he always will be."

"I know," Scott replied, relieved to hear Emily confirm what he'd suspected about Lewis after hours of reading through messages. "I can assure you, the last thing I want is to get back with him."

"Assure me," Emily mocked lightly, a chuckle escaping her lips as she shook her head. "You really have changed."

Joining in the laughter, Scott glanced down at his polished nails, his smooth legs extending from beneath the salon cape, and thought to himself with a resigned sigh, 'You have no idea.'

Ninety boring minutes later, Scott slumped down in a salon chair, the last customer of the day, with only Emily bustling around. He had just seen his new hair in the mirror, and it was a lot to take in. Less dramatic than the pink he previously sported, his hair was now extended and dyed to look identical to how his cousin usually wore it - long and blonde. It felt like the transformation was complete; he had finally become Amy, 100%.

(See image 36)

Emily approached after locking the front door. "Why do you look so tired?" she teased. "I’m the one who’s been working for hours, making you look beautiful."

Scott looked up at Emily and smiled, blinking his filled-in eyelash extensions, still adjusting to the slight increase in volume and length. He had to hand it to her; despite what he had gathered from reading old messages about his cousin taking her friend for granted, Emily had always been there for Amy, not just as her personal stylist but as a true friend.

"I’m fine," Scott replied, rising to his feet. "Thanks again for doing my hair, Em. It looks great."

"Of course it does. I did it," Emily said cheerfully. "Why don’t you get changed while I finish closing up? Then I’ll help you with your makeup before we head out."

Scott gave her a tired smile, desperately wanting to go home and not out to a bar with Emily. However, it was the price he had to pay for her help in swapping one girly hairstyle for another. He couldn’t show up to the funeral with pink hair; Amy’s mother had been very clear about that.

"Perfect. First round’s on me," Scott said with as much enthusiasm as he could muster, as he spun around and headed towards the back room of the salon where the revealing outfit he had picked out earlier awaited.

Now well-versed in dressing in women's clothing, Scott quickly slipped into his outfit for the evening. He started by rolling the thin, semi-opaque black tights up his legs. The silky material glided smoothly over his hairless skin, encasing his legs in a slightly constricting but glossy layer. The tights added a subtle sheen and a slight compression, making his legs look sleek and toned.

Next, he stepped into the faux-leather black mini-skirt. The glossy finish of the skirt felt slightly stiff but slid easily up over his tights. As he zipped it up, the snug fit accentuated his hips and thighs, creating a sense of being tightly encased. The high waist added an extra layer of restriction around his midsection, but the short hem left his legs on full display, making him feel both vulnerable and exposed.

Careful not to ruin his styled blond hair, he then put on the metallic pink top, feeling the cool, satin fabric slide over his nipples, sending a tingling sensation across his enhanced chest. The ruched design sat loosely on his chest, showing a decent amount of cleavage and leaving his belly exposed to the slight chill in the air.

Finally, he pulled on the over-the-knee, stretch black platform boots. The boots hugged his calves and ankles closely, their snug embrace and high platform adding a sense of height while creating a familiar ache. As he tugged the fabric into position, he suddenly realized that Jessica had worn these same boots the first time he went out cross-dressed to the coffee shop. Back then, dressing up was merely a means to an end, a temporary act geared towards creating a better future. Had he known it would come to envelop his existence, he would have run for the hills.

Back in the salon, Emily then took over, helping Scott with his makeup as he tried to relax and speak as little as possible - a task made easier since Emily loved to jabber on and on. Scott knew the process well by now and could even do it himself, but it was nice to have someone else take care of it for a change.

Emily began by preparing Scott's face, the cool, smooth sensation of the primer spreading evenly over his skin. The brush strokes felt gentle and methodical. Next, she applied the foundation, the creamy texture blending seamlessly with his skin, creating a flawless base. As she contoured and highlighted, Scott could feel the slight pressure and precision of the brushes, accentuating his cheekbones and adding dimension to his face.

Moving on to his eyes, Emily used a soft brush to apply smoky eyeshadow. The sensation of the powder brushing against his eyelids was delicate, almost ticklish, as she layered the colours to create depth. When she applied the dark eyeliner, Scott felt the gentle, deliberate drag of the pencil along his lash line, making his eyes pop and enhancing their shape dramatically.

Finally, Emily turned her attention to his lips, applying a sticky pink gloss. The wand glided smoothly over his lips, leaving them shiny and plump. Once she finished, Emily popped off into the back room to change, leaving Scott alone in the salon chair. He carefully added a pair of hoop earrings to his earlobes, no longer shocked by the ultra-feminine reflection beaming back at him. Used to seeing Amy instead of Scott, he was somewhat numb to it by now. With the fear of being discovered decreasing with every successful interaction, he was left to ponder how he was ever going to return to his true self. The transformation, although external, had burrowed deep, leaving him to grapple with the duality of his identity under the fluorescent lights of the salon.

Scott stood up, stretching his legs after hours of mostly sitting in the salon chair. He tottered across the room, catching a glimpse of his reflection in the mirror. For a moment, he paused, lost in the sight of his transformed figure. The sight stirred a deep longing for his old, simpler, and more comfortable life.

Just then, Emily returned, looking just as striking in her own glamorous outfit. "You look absolutely fabulous, babes," she complimented while her eyes twinkling with excitement.

"Thanks, Em," Scott replied as he turned and forced another smile.

(See image 37)

Mistaking his sombre mood for sadness about Lewis, Emily tottered closer. "Hey, forget about Lewis," she said, her voice soft but encouraging. "I promise you, we're going to find you the perfect man tonight. Someone kind and caring."

Scott chuckled dryly, raising an eyebrow. "The perfect man! Does one even exist?"

"Probably not," Emily joked back, her laughter lightening the atmosphere a bit. "But there's bound to be some eye candy at the bar."

Scott let out a small chuckle, but inside, he felt torn. He should be at home with Jessica, the love of his life, not about to go bar hopping and men chasing, dressed like a tart. Yet, there he was - stuck in a role that was both a disguise and a burden.

Resigned to his fate, Scott slipped into his coat and grabbed his purse. “I’m ready,” he said aloud as the voice in his head said, ‘let's just go and get this over with.’

They left the salon, linking arms, both equally glamorous in their high heels and flashy outfits. A train ride to the big city awaited them, and Scott was already over it, dreading the night ahead yet compelled to see it through.