3 ✦ Makeover

My apartment smelled like piss.

Okay nah, it smelled like ammonia and my despair I guess. It was almost 8:15 am and I had a literature lecture at nine. God help me. Instead of reviewing my notes, I was currently wearing a pair of yellow rubber dishwashing gloves, violently massaging generic drugstore bleach into the scalp of random Japanese woman I picked up off the street...

Great now I sound like a criminal.

“Rowan.. I feel a burning sensation..." Naoko announced from her throne.. that was my creaky desk chair dragged dead center into the middle of my studio. I had draped a garbage bag over her shoulders like a makeshift cape.

“You know my mother once taught me beauty is pain." I grunted, trying to decipher the tiny instructions on the back of the box (why do they make the most important parts to read so small?) “And keep your head still. If I get this on my carpet we're both sleeping on the street."

For the last half hour, between furiously mixing chemicals in a cereal bowl I had tried to write my essay. The result was a tragic essay that I am BEYOND sure will drop my mark. It was ass. It was definitely the worst thing I had written this year. Why me man? Why am I playing barbie with a real-life fugitive noblewoman doll?

“Ensure the follicles are evenly saturated." Naoko commanded, waving a hand imperiously. “I must look flawless. A local, yes, but a breathtaking local."

“I am trying my best your hIGHNEss." I muttered, aggressively parting her heavy black hair with a plastic comb. I was struggling I think. The dye was clumping and the bleach was melting my brain cells if I had any left.

(And where did she learn the word follicles? Definitely not from me..)

My hands shook.. even a slight mess up here was a world of pain.

Suddenly a bouncy pop beat blasted from her lap. Naoko had pulled out her phone and pulled up some dance choreo or something.

Before I could process what was happening, her shoulders started popping to the beat. Her head bobbed and her hands came up to mirror the dancers on screen.

“Stop moving!!" I yelled, snatching the comb back before I accidentally stabbed her in the eye. “You are ruining my work!! Do you WANT bald spots?!"

“Apologies.. something inside me could not ignore the rhythm Rowan.." she said haughtily, though she did freeze, her arms locked in a dramatic pose.

“Just let me rinse this..” I sighed checking the timer on my phone. "Okay. Go to the sink. Don't look in the mirror yet."

After ten minutes of rinsing in my tiny kitchen sink later, I tossed her a towel. She scrubbed vigorously at her head, then flipped her hair back with a dramatic, expectant gasp. She turned to face the mirror on my closet door.

I froze. My blue eyes widened in sheer horror.

Naoko stared at her reflection. The towel dropped from her hands.

Her hair did not look like the light caramel brown of the girl on the box. It was a chaotic patchy disaster. How the hell did I manage this? Brassy orange, stark black roots and weird muddy yellow streaks? She looked exactly like a very sad tiger cub.

“WHAHHHHHHHHH WHAT IS THIS?!" she shrieked, spinning around to face me, her orange-and-black hair flying wildly. “I look like a diseased jungle cat! What have you done?!" The high-pitched, piercing scream roared from her throat. I think I just destroyed her entire lineages streak of perfect hair.

“DON’T LOOK AT ME.. I followed the instructions!" I yelled back defensively throwing my yellow gloves into the sink. “You're the one who wouldn't stop doing the macarena in the chair!"

“It was an eight-count, not the macarena, you uncultured swine!" she fired back, tears of genuine panic welling in her eyes. “FIX IT!!! Fix it immediately!"

“I can't! I have class in twenty minutes!" I scrubbed a hand down my face, my hair falling into my eyes. “Okay! Okay, don't panic. I know a guy... well, I know a guy's sister."

I whipped out my phone and dialed Khris. He picked up on the second ring, the sound of the 7-Eleven slushie machine whirring in the background.

“Yallloooo!” Khris answered. “Ahhhh, Rowan, hi welcome to Chilis!”

“Khris not now. I need a massive favor. Is Brea awake?"

“My sister..? Yeah- actually she's skipping first period. Why?"

“I may or may not have accidentally turned my roommate into Tigress from Kung Fu Panda.” I confessed, lowering my voice.

Khris died of laughter out loud through the speaker. “You gave the Japanese princess tiger stripes?! Broooo you can NOT do that! You just violated her family in like six different ways! Even during lunar new year, that’s so messed up! Dude you are in some DEEP shit man you are dea-”

“Are you gonna help me or not man..” I exhaled.

“Yeah... alright I'll text Brea. She owes me for something else anyway. You owe me lunch for a week though, dragon warrior.”

“Yeah I’m not doing that shit. Tell her the door's unlocked." I hung up and grabbed my backpack. “Naoko, help is on the way. Do NOT touch the bleach. Do NOT leave the apartment. I will be back at four-thirty."

“You are abandoning me in my hour of deformity?!" she cried, clutching her head.

“SUFFERING BUILDS CHARACTER!" I shouted, already out the door and sprinting down the hall.

The lecture hall was a blur. I sat in the back row, staring blankly at the whiteboard completely unable to focus on anything.

My mind is just completely consumed by my last twenty-four hours and the disaster waiting for me back at the apartment.

This is unsustainable. I am barely scraping by. I work two jobs, I am drowning in student debt, and my apartment is the size of a closet. I can not house.. a runaway princess.

For her own good AND mine, I have to evict her. When I get home, I am going to put my foot down. Its time to end this ridiculousness before one of us seriously gets hurt.

~ Meanwhile, back at the apartment... ~

Brea snapped her gum, popping a bright pink bubble as she inspected Naoko’s hair. The seventeen-year-old was surprisingly confident and her vibrant neon pink hair practically glowed in the apartment.

“Yeah, this is an account for womanslaughter." Brea diagnosed, tossing her professional grade salon bag onto the futon. “My brother's dumbass bestie really did a number on you. Sit down, princess your safe with me.”

Naoko, still traumatized, obediently sat back in the desk chair. As Brea worked, swiftly and expertly applying toner and fresh dye the teenager's curiosity piqued.

“So... how did a girl who looks like she walked off a runway end up in Rowan's crusty apartment?" Brea said, parting Naoko's hair with ease.

Naoko stiffened. The truth, that she had cyber-stalked her English tutor across the globe felt distinctly... un-noble.

She lifted her chin.

“We met at a... botanical garden..." Naoko said. "It was quite dramatic. I was admiring the hydrangeas and he approached me. He was utterly captivated. He fawned over me.. practically begging for my friendship. It was honestly a bit pathetic.. but his desperation was... charming. So, I sighed and said, 'Ohhhh, fine.'"

Brea burst out laughing, almost dropping her brush. “Rowan? Begging a girl for attention? That dude is practically married to anime girls. Hilarious. Good on you for making him work for it."

Naoko allowed herself a small, smug smile.

Two hours later, Brea spun the chair around to face the mirror. “Voila.”

Naoko gasped. The tiger stripes were gone. In their place was a gorgeous, seamless shade of light chestnut brown. It was soft, natural, and framed her face perfectly, making her dark eyes pop. She looked like a trendy idol.

“It is... acceptable!" Naoko said, though her beaming reflection betrayed her. "You have my greatest gratitude, Brea!”

“No probs girl.” Brea packed up her bag. The two girls shared a surprisingly warm hug. “Let me get your number, just in case the color fades... or if you need to complain about Rowan."

Naoko pulled out her phone, entering Brea's contact info. She paused, tapping her screen. “Actually... I do not possess Rowan's direct cellular number. We only communicated through the tutor--I mean word of mouth! Could you... provide it?"

Brea paused, her hand on the doorknob. She looked at Naoko, taking in the faint dusting of pink on the older girl's cheeks and the way she rigidly avoided making eye contact. Brea smirked, one perfectly sculpted eyebrow rising.

“Sureeeeee." Brea said smoothly, quickly typing in the digits. “Hope everything goes well for you guys. See ya, Naoko."

~

I climbed a million flights of stairs to my apartment because the elevator was out (wtf) my legs felt like lead. It was like 4:30 pm. The late afternoon sun was really beaming now. I stood in front of my door, taking a deep breath, mentally rehearsing what I was going to say.

Naoko, I am sorry, but the truth is.. it is best for you to just leave..

I unlocked the door and pushed it open.

The words instantly died in my throat.

Golden hour light was filtering through my blinds, cascading across the room in a warm glow. Naoko was lying on her stomach on my futon, her chin propped up on her hands, completely engrossed in a dance video playing on her phone.

Her hair was.. that silky light brown.. like on the box.. tumbling over her shoulders in a soft wave. She had also seemingly raided my closet, she was wearing my oversized black shorts and my favorite grey crewneck. The collar was too wide for her, slipping off one of her shoulders.

For a moment.. she looked so.. relaxed. So completely at home in my messy apartment. My mouth went completely dry.

Sensing the draft from the door, Naoko looked up. Her dark eyes mine. She sat up quickly, pulling the oversized sweater over her knees.

"Rowan.." she said, her voice surprisingly soft. She reached up, nervously twirling a strand of her new chestnut hair. "The... the cotton candy child was quite skilled. Do you... like it?"

I swallowed hard, forcing my eyes away from hers and staring fixedly at the microwave. “Yeah It's... fine. Sure..”

I sighed.

“Naoko.. can we talk..?”

Her tentative smile vanished, replaced by a guarded neutrality. “About what?"

“...About you leaving.." I said, the harshness of the words surprising even me. I stepped into the room and dropped my backpack onto the floor. “And about how you even got here. Yesterday, I was too tired to think about.. anything.. but it was one of the only things I could think about today." I pulled the crumpled paper from my pocket.. my printed LinkedIn profile.

“You.. stalked me, Naoko. You flew across the world, looked up my employment history and went to four different stores in the middle of the night just to find me. That is... insane. It's a massive invasion of privacy."

Naoko flinched as if I had struck her. She stood up from the bed, her hands balling into fists at her sides. “I did not 'stalk' you! I utilized available corporate resources to locate my instructor!"

“I am an online English tutor!" I yelled, the stress of the last 48 hours finally boiling over. “I am not your bodyguard, and I am definitely not your servant! I am a broke college student who can barely afford to feed himself. I can't hide you from anything you are running from! You need to pack your things and go! Today."

The room plunged into a suffocating silence.

I expected her to yell back. To blow up in my face with her haughty nature and storm out...

..but her.. her lower lip trembled. She just.. shattered... leaving only a scared lonely woman standing in clothes far too big for her.

“I have nowhere else..." she whispered, her voice cracking. Tears welled in her eyes, spilling over her lashes and tracking down her cheeks. "I cannot go to the embassy. Like I’ve told you.. my father owns politicians. If I walk in there, I will be on a private jet back to Tokyo by midnight."

She took a step toward me, her hands reaching out hesitantly before falling back to her sides.

“I am sorry.." she sobbed, the formal English slipping into raw emotion. “I am so sorry I invaded your privacy, Rowan. I will not do it again. I will be quiet. I will sleep on the floor. I will eat nothing. Anything. Please."

I felt like an absolute monster. “Naoko.. no.. it’s not like that.. it's not about the food or the--"

“I tracked you down.." she interrupted, her voice dropping to a desperate, wet whisper. “..because you were the kindest commoner... the only person in my life.. who did not want something because I was named Honji Naoko. During our lessons... I felt safe."

A fierce, bright blush spread across her cheeks as the words left her mouth. She looked down at her feet, her shoulders shaking, suddenly unable to meet my eyes.

My heart did that stupid heavy thump again. I felt the heat rising in my own neck. I squeezed my eyes shut and let out a long, ragged sigh that deflated every ounce of anger in my body.

I sighed hard. “..Naoko..."

I opened my eyes, ready to tell her she could have the futon, and I would take the floor.. but before I could open my mouth, a sharp, piercing vibration cut through the air.

We both jumped. Naoko’s phone resting on the bed, was ringing.

The screen glowed brightly. In bold the Caller ID flashed: UNKNOWN CALLER.

Naoko stared at the phone, completely pale. I looked at the screen, then back at her.

Who... was that?