People don’t take trips, trips take people - Antoine 09

Entering through the front door of Mon petit hair salon, Antoine had an awful feeling that something terrible was about to happen but as he followed behind Monique, who confidently marched the length of the room, past the waiting customers, and up to the front desk, he knew there was nothing he could about it.

“Good afternoon, ladies, do you have an appointment”? the perky receptionist asked.

“Good afternoon dear, no, unfortunately not, coming here today was a bit of a last-minute decision, but as I always visit your amazing salon, when I’m in Paris I was hoping you could fit us in”?

The receptionist started typing on the keyboard below her as Antoine willed her to come back and say the place was fully booked,

“You said you were a regular customer, can I have your name, please”, asked the receptionist cheerfully.

“Monique Allard, I usually see Anabelle, when I visit”, Monique answered, "but if she's busy, we can always see someone today".

The receptionist once again started typing, as Antoine looked on nervously and Monique looked around the room taking in the scenery.

“hmm... it looks like we are quite full right now, but I can see here, you are part of our VIP programme, please, take a seat ladies and I’ll see if I can squeeze you in”, she replied.

“Oh wonderful, thank you very much”, Monique replied before turning to face Antoine, “you’re going to love this place, Zara, I’ve been coming here for years and they are the best salon in the city”, she told him before they walking back towards the entrance and taking a seat in the waiting area.

Two minutes later the receptionist appeared and handed each of them a bottle of water "Great news Monique, Annabelle has had a cancellation and can see you in a few minutes", the receptionist announced as Antoine's last hope of escape evaporated,

As Monique thanked the receptionist, Antoine dove into his bag and quickly dug out his phone to text Lily, “Lil, I’m in trouble, your mother has brought me to some fancy salon, and I think she wants me to get my hair done, what am I going to do? I’m wearing a wig, they are going to find out I’m a boy, help”, the text read.

It was an agonizing few minutes of waiting for Antoine, as he just stared down at his phone hoping for a miracle but when his phone finally pinged and he read the reply, all hoped of a reprieve quickly evaporated. “Dam, trust my mother to head to the salon the first chance she gets, you’re not going to like this but you have very few options right now, your only option is to tell them you’re wearing a wig as you cut your hair recently and don’t like it short, ask them to style the wig for you and you should be fine, people do that all the time, just be confident, good luck”.

Just as Antoine finished reading the reply, the receptionist reappeared, “Annabelle’s ready for you now, do you want to follow me”, she said.

Monique stood up first as Antoine slowly got to his feet before the three of them walked through a side door and into a private room with two chairs set up. Upon entering the room, Annabelle, a stylish looking young woman with blue hair, smiled broadly and came over to greet them, “Monique great to see you, you should have told me you were in the city, I could have made more time for you”, she said cheerfully kissing Monique twice on both cheeks.

“Lovely to see you too, Annabelle, sorry for the late notice, coming here today was a bit last minute thing”, Monique replied, “this is Zara, a friend of my daughter, she’s been keeping me company today, and I thought we’d have you work you’re magic on us before we head out to dinner at a fancy restaurant later tonight”.

“Hi Zara”, Annabelle said looking over at Antoine and smiling”, No problem Monique, we'll have you both leaving her looking like royalty, what would you like doing today”? she asked turning her attention back to Monique.

Monique, ran her fingers through her hair, “well, I was thinking just a trim and a blow-dry, do you have time to fit us both in”?

“Yes, that should be fine, take a seat ladies and we'll get started”, Annabelle replied, pointing towards the two empty chairs.

Antoine looked at Monique for help but was only greeted with a smile, “don’t be shy dear, take a seat”, she replied, ushering Antoine over towards the chair.

Brushing his short skirt tightly against the back of his thighs, Antoine sat down on the comfortable chair as Annabelle arrived behind him, he was just about to touch his head, when she was startled by Antoine shouting out, “wait”, surprising both Monique and Annabelle, who jumped in surprise.

“What’s wrong dear”? Monique asked concerned.

Antoine took a deep breath, “I… I…um… I’m wearing a wig”, he stated pulling the mop of dark hair off his head and placed it on his lap where he stared down at it in shame.

Monique gasped, “oh my, I had no idea, you should have said something earlier dear”.

Antoine still looking down at the wig resting on top of his short skirt and tickling his thighs couldn't bear to look at them, “I’m sorry Monique, I was embarrassed, I had it cut not long ago, and I didn’t like how it turned out”, Antoine lied repeating what lily had told him to say in the text.

Monique came over an placed her hand on his shoulder, “oh, you poor thing, I can see why you don’t like it, short hair doesn’t suit everyone, and on you, it does make you look rather masculine”, she said trying to comfort him, “and I bet, with you finding it difficult to get a job right now, you didn’t have the money to fix it, am I right”? she asked.

Antoine slowly lifted his head and saw Monique’s kind smiling face behind the freakish sight of his made-up face and boyish haircut, through the mirror. Absolutely stunned that despite the wig, Monique still believed he was a girl named Zara, Antoine nodded along.

Monique nodded with him before turning to face Annabelle, “Annabelle, I know we’re short on time today, but do you think you can do something about this"? Monique said pointing at Antoine's head, "I have no idea where the girl went for her last cut, but that hairdresser should be shot, there would be a big tip in it for you if you can fix her mess”.

Annabelle stepped forward and started running her fingers through Antoine’s short boy cut, “hmm… well, we could do a weave and dye the top to match, but I have another appointment at 6.30, I wouldn’t be able to fit both of you in”.

“That’s fine, you work on Zara, I had my hair done just last week, I’ll book another appointment for later in the week”, Monique announced, "this is much more important".

“No, please Monique”, Antoine said, in a quiet sad voice, “you don’t have to do that for me, I’m fine really”.

“Nonsense, girl, I’ve been wondering since we met why you were so shy and reserved, nothing like the girl Lily had described to me on the phone, and now I know why, let’s fix this up and get you your confidence back, no arguments. Annabelle, I’m going to head out for a walk, do what you need to do, and as we’ll be pushed for time, do you think you could do her makeup when you're done with her hair”.

“You got it, Monique, leave it to me, when you get back Zara here will be looking absolutely stunning”, Annabelle said happily, "this is going to be fun, I love a makeover".

“Annabelle, you’re the best”, Monique replied cheerfully, “ok, Zara, I’ll be back around 6.30 to pick you up, we won’t have time to go home and change before dinner, do you want me to fetch one of your new outfits from the car, so you can change when you’re done”?

Antoine just nodded his head in a daze, having not heard a word Monique had said, since realising he was about to receive hair extensions. He watched through the mirror as Monique said her goodbyes and exited the room, leaving him at the mercy of the blue haired hairstylist, “well, you won't be needing this anymore”? Annabelle announced, tossing the wig sat in his lap on to the counter, spinning his chair around 180 degrees, and tilting it back towards the sink.

Two hours later, Antoine was once again sat in the waiting area of the salon, fidgeting, and looking nervous, trying not to make eye contact with the two women sat opposite him. Having changed the outfit, Monique had left for him, he now felt more embarrassed than ever, sat in a fancy women's hair salon in a designer black dress waiting to be collected and taken out to dinner.

with his head down, he could once again feel long strands of hair brushing against his neck and shoulders, but this time he was struggling to come to terms with the fact he was no longer wearing a wig. He couldn't quite believe the long shiny curls at the edge of his vision were now his hair but having watched in a trance, as Annabelle the stylist, had slowly, strand by strand, firmly attached them to his head, he realised that returning to his old life as Antoine, had just become a lot more difficult.

As the loud tick of clock above his head, echoes in his ears, almost in slow motion. Antoine closed his eyes, too frightened to look over at the customers opposite him in case he was forced into having a conversation, and too ashamed to look down any longer, at the dark ruffled material of his skirt, draped across knees reminding him of the living nightmare, he couldn't wake up from.

Shifting in his chair to try and find a more comfortable position, Antoine shuffled forward a little, pushing off the ground, feeling the steep angle his foot was forced to rest in and shuddered as he experienced the extremely strange and unfamiliar feeling of his shiny nyloned legs sliding past each other, under the silky skirt of the dress, as he folded one leg over the other just above the knee.

When Monique re-entered the salon, late having lost track of time, she looked over to the waiting area and gasped at the beauty sat waiting for her. For a moment, she stood like a statue in the entrance, taking in the sight of the new Zara. Gone was the tomboy she remembered from earlier, and in her place sat an elegant and sophisticated looking young lady, wearing a beautiful black dress and sparkly high heeled platform pumps.

Hearing footsteps approach, Antoine looked up to see Monique approaching with a huge smile on her face as folded his hands across his lap nervously, glad that the torturous wait was over but dreading now having to leave the salon dressed as he was.

(See image 14)

“Wow, Zara, you look gorgeous, darling, didn’t I tell you this place did amazing work” Monique announced loudly, having stopped next to his chair, “how do you like your new look”?

Seeing her so excited and not wanting to say anything out of character, Antoine forced a smile and thought about what Zara might say, “Oh hi, Monique, yes, I love it, thank you so much”, he replied, cringing on the inside as he forced the words out.

“You’re very welcome dear, and I’m sorry I’m late, I lost track of time, let’s quickly pay the bill, then we’ll get ourselves over to the restaurant, I think we can still make it in time”, Monique replied, looking up at the clock on the wall.

Antoine carefully stood up and wobbled on his tall heels, not used to the height of his new footwear, feeling as though he was about to fall flat on his face.

Having found his centre of gravity, Antoine took a tentative step forward, feeling the tendons in his ankles stretch uncomfortably, and catching a glimpse of his blurry reflection in the glass window to his left. With a look of utter disbelief on his face, Antoine's eyes were drawn to his impossibly tall sparkly shoes shuffling along the tiled floor, and the flimsy flared skirt lapping gently around his shiny nylon-clad knees.

(See image 15)

“Careful Zara”, Monique cried out.

Antoine quickly turned to see a panicked look on Monique’s face but before he could react, he felt his shin crash into a decorative sheep on the salon floor, sending it careering across the room loudly, and almost knocking him over to boot.

Red face and embarrassed, Antoine looked around as the three women in the waning area, and the receptionist, who had popped her head out on the far side of the room, looked over to see what all the commotion was about, “sorry, sorry”, Antoine muttered quietly, wanting the floor to open up and swallow him.

“Are you alright, dear”? Monique asked rushing over.

“Yeah, I’m fine, I think the sheep came off worse than me”, Antoine replied trying to make light of the situation.

At that moment, the receptionist came rushing over, with the displaced sheep tucked under her arm, “Are you ok”? “are you hurt”? She asked placing the sheep back in its position and inspecting Antoine's feminine-looking legs for injuries.

“Just my pride”, Antoine replied mortified, “sorry, I wasn’t looking where I was going”, he told the receptionist as she stood back up.

The receptionist smiled, “don’t worry about it, you’re not the first person to bump into that old thing, we should really think about moving it someplace else".

“Come along now, Zara, let’s pay and be on our way, shall we”? Monique said, feeling a little embarrassed herself with all the fuss.

Antoine nodded, feeling his newly extended hair tickle his bare shoulder, before gladly following Monique across the room towards the reception desk.

“Thanks so much, girls”, Monique said cheerfully, speaking to the receptionist and Annabelle who had come out of her room to say goodbye, “you’ve done a marvellous job as always, and we’re really sorry again about the ornament, are you sure you don’t want me to pay for any damages”?

“Don’t be silly, there was no damage and we’re the ones who should be apologising to you, injuring our customers is not something we like to do here at Mon Petit”, the receptionist replied handing back Monique her credit card and giggling.

“You're welcome, Monique, all I did was enhance the beauty that was already there, it wasn’t difficult with young Zara”, Annabelle added smiling happily, “I’ll see you in a few days for your appointment, nice to meet you, Zara, enjoy your dinner, you two”,

Antoine looked over and again forced a smile, trying to ignore the comment about enhancing the beauty that was already there, “thank you, goodbye”, he said meekly, thinking how absurd it was to be thanking the girl who had just transformed his hair into a girly feminine style and worried how he was going to navigate the rest of the evening, perched on top of his preposterously high heels that were already hurting his feet.