Bad Ideas (First & Forever 4)

When I called, “Come in,” Lark stepped into my room with a look of concern on his face.

He gestured at his outfit and asked, “Is this too much? I know this is a work event, and you and Yolanda have to, like, make a good impression with your bosses and stuff. That’s why I don’t want to seem inappropriate or anything.” He was wearing slim-fitting black pants, black high heeled ankle boots, and a cropped dark red sweater with long sleeves, which exposed about six inches of his midriff. He’d completed the look with a black beret, and by doing something to his blond hair to make it smooth and glossy.

“You look perfect. Don’t ever change for anyone.” He beamed at me, and I asked, “Could you show me how to do that to my hair? It never does what I want.”

You would have thought I’d just given him a present. His eyes lit up, and he exclaimed, “I’d love to! Have a seat at your desk, and I’ll be right back.”

Lark darted from the room and returned less than a minute later with an armload of stuff, which he piled onto the desktop. He plugged in a shiny, red blow dryer, then grabbed a spray bottle and began spritzing me like I was a cat being punished for being on the counter. I covered my face with my hands and grumbled, until he put down the bottle and attacked my hair with a round brush and the blow dryer.

He was determined to have a conversation, even over the roar of that appliance, so he yelled, “I’ve always enjoyed doing hair! I think I missed my calling and should have become a hair stylist. Couldn’t you see me working in some cute salon? Then again, I actually love what I’m doing now with being a cam boy. It’s fun, and I like not having to answer to anyone.”

After a few minutes of that, he turned off the blow dryer and set it aside. Then he dispensed some gel into his palm, rubbed his hands together, and ran them over my hair. He stepped back to assess his work just as Eliot came upstairs, and Lark called to him, “What do you think? I’m trying to tame Casey’s hair for the party.”

Eliot stuck his head into my room and shifted the huge cosmetics tote he was carrying. After scrutinizing me for a moment, he told Lark, “You made him look like a wolfman.” Then he proceeded to his room at the back of the house.

“Oh no,” I muttered. When I felt my head, I detected some definite puffiness. “What did you do?”

“I might have added too much volume to the top. But don’t worry, I can fix it.” With that, he grabbed the water bottle and spritzed me, then began the process all over again.

I let him do his thing for about five more minutes, before I finally said, “Okay, let’s just call that good enough.”

He stepped back as I stood up. Then I pulled on my new sweater, and he swooped in and fixed the damage I’d just done to his creation. Something seemed off, and after a moment I realized what it was. He was normally about five-foot-nine, but those high heels brought him within about an inch of my height.

Lark told me he had to finish getting ready—though I had no idea what he had left to do—and while he took all his hair stuff back to the bathroom, I went downstairs.

I found Yolanda on the vintage purple couch in the living room, sipping a glass of wine. She was dressed in a stylish, black pants suit, black heels, and a red silk shirt. She’d also put on a bit of makeup, and her long, dark hair was as smooth and shiny as glass. “You look stunning, Yo,” I told her. She grinned and glanced at my hair, and as I took a seat on the other side of the coffee table, I asked, “How bad is it? I’m afraid to look.”

“It’s…different. Not bad, just not what you normally look like. The sweater’s nice, though.”

I pushed back my sleeves and asked, “Are you going to comment on the jeans?”

“Nah. I know those are your ‘good’ jeans, and you’re not wearing sneakers, so I can tell you made an effort.”

“I did.” I settled in, crossing my ankle over my knee. “I take it JoJo’s still getting ready?”

“Oh yeah. I expect her to finish about five minutes after the cab arrives.” A sweet smile spread across her face. “She loves dressing up. It reminds me that I really need to take her out more. Ever since we moved in together, we’ve turned into such homebodies.”

“I’ve definitely become one, too.” I thought about it and added, “I was going to say that’s been the case ever since I moved to San Francisco, but maybe I’ve always been this way.”