Extreme Makeover [closed]

Kayla raised a (newly thinned) eyebrow, wondering if it'd be too awkward to ask. Not sure where? Out of town? "Men are assholes, huh?" she said lightly, as if to take the edge off. What a fucking flake. Even she couldn't help but feel a pang of sympathy imagining Brailynn there standing by herself, watching the dancers and hovering over the punch bowl. It wasn't like she could empathize, but like she'd said, she was the Formal queen between the two of them. This was her kind of night and she deserved to get whatever excitement she got out of shit like this. She returned the smile, honestly more than a little relieved that she'd be there even if she wouldn't show it on her face.

"We might as well show up together," she joked, trying not to let her mind wander to Pres. Neither of them had dates. Nope. Never. Except it wasn't entirely a joke. She wasn't sure how else she was going to make it through the night. "I can do everything your date can do, right?" Except dance, or... whatever the fuck else you were supposed to do with a date, but she wouldn't mind sitting there chatting. Nothing weird or anything. Showing up with a friend was kind of sad for someone like Brailynn, but shit, it was better than being shown up.

That was, if she'd want to spend their one Formal night of the year with her, when she could be doing anything else. She glanced down with a sudden wave of self-consciousness, over her robe and her newly filed nails, wondering just how stupid she'd look by the time they were in the Grand Hall. Kayla played it off with a lopsided grin. "I mean, if you're really desperate. You don't have to babysit me" Dressing up, for her, it was like stepping out onto a ledge, exposing herself to the gunfire. No one could laugh at you in jeans and a hoodie, not in a way that'd sting. In a dress, out of her element...

She forced a small laugh. "Yeah, forget them..." How long had it been now since he was missing? Three months? Four? Whenever she stopped to think about it, it had felt like the worst sickness imaginable had overtaken her. People had already been sent out. They all looked for him. It was like he'd fallen straight off the face of the earth. She'd already been faced with the real possibility that he might have been...

No, no. He was fine. He was fine and tonight was not the night to worry things about things like this. All she had to focus on was Kayla and making sure she outshone everyone else in the room.

"Is that your way of asking me out?" Brailynn teased lightly, loosening up and picking away at the girl's cuticles, making everything neat and pretty before she reached over for the nail polish. Clear, nothing fancy. "Consider me flattered." With a lack of a table, Brailynn settled for crossing her legs and resting the girls hand up across the top of her thigh, carefully painting away. "But I thought someone else had stolen you for the evening. " She flashed a subtle grin. "Otherwise, I'd have been happy to take you up on that."

Why else would Kayla have agreed to take on the night of torture though if she hadn't been trying to impress someone?

"Maybe it is," she scoffed. "Would you take me up on it?" What was the point of clear nail polish? Kayla just focused on her hand over her thigh, fighting the sudden rush of heat to her cheeks when she brought up her... not-date. Fuck, what were you even supposed to call him? A friend? Acquaintance? Roommate? Pain in her ass? She chewed at her lip, simmering, a few weak sparks crackling in her hair. Luckily it didn't stick up on end and ruin all of Brailynn's hard work.

Immediately, she shifted into defense. "We're not... He's..." Damn it, she couldn't even think. Kayla was distracted by the familiar tingle beneath her palm as she painted her nails, pricking at her skin, like it always was when she and Brailynn were close like this. Why couldn't their gifts have an off-switch? "I haven't been stolen by anyone. We're showing up together, that's it. Like..." Friends? Chaperones? "You know, not..." Kayla swallowed, glancing away, color blooming across her face. "Not anything like that."

Now it was Brailynn's turn to raise her eyebrow, looking over the girl's face curiously as her composure began to completely fall apart. While she didn't let her gaze linger long, there was no denying the sharp tinge of red across her cheeks. "I get it," She said softly, blowing cool air against the girl's nails. "Whatever's better than showing up alone, yeah?" Lynn had played that game before. Her and Rich a few years back, just roommate's going to the formal together to have someone to cling onto. He'd spent the entire time staring down Beata's queen, however, and something told her that Kayla's situation wasn't quite as complicated or troubled as she was making it seem.

Once her nails seemed dry enough, she stood up, pushing the chair away and offering her a hand. "Come on, let's go pick out your dress." Lynn offered the girl her best smile. Once she was up and in her feet, the Guardian spun on her heel, leading Kayla on into the back bedroom. There were so many old dresses in that old closet of theirs, it would be easy to find the girl something. "You like pink, don't you? That really, sappy barbie pink?" She called playfully, throwing open the wardrobe and beginning her rummage through.

Yeah. Something like that. Was that the reason, though? Kayla had been fumbling for excuses why ever since he'd first brought it up, desperate to justify it to herself, but nothing sat right with her. Maybe she'd just been an idiot and said yes on a whim, and she should've just left it at that and spared the headache. Fuck, she was an idiot either way. She watched her blow her nails dry, and just like she should've expected, Brailynn sidestepped the whole question.

So there wasn't any last minute swapping. Fair enough. Just leaving her for the sharks, huh? She was looking at her nails when Lynn jolted her back to reality.

The... dress. She'd known this was coming. Shit, if anything, this was what she'd been fixated on the most on her way here, head playing through all the worst case scenarios, trying to find the right words to worm out of this mess she'd dragged herself into, but... Kayla took her hand and let her lead her into the bedroom. She froze when she flung the closet open. "Jesus Christ," she laughed under her breath, crossing her arms in front of her to pull the robe tight. Brailynn had more Formal-ready dresses than she had regular clothes. For a moment, she caught herself envisioning strolling through the doors in a frilly pink dress, and smacked the thought violently out of her mind. "You got me. That's my color." She wore a lopsided grin and tilted her head, staring into the closet. Kayla picked at her robe. "I think I'd rather show up in this than something like that."

Pink. She could skip out on the pink. And the sparkles, and the frills, and anything that looked like it could trip her up on her way to the snack table. All she wanted to do was blend into the room.

Ah, blending in. Now, they could both agree to pass up on the pretty pink and ribbons and sparkles, now wasn't quite her style, but Lynn absolutely refused to turn the girl into some overly-dressed wall flower. What would be the point of you weren't shining properly for the occasion. "Lucky for you then that it's not in my arsenal anyways," The blonde mused, laughing under her breath as she began to pan through the many dresses. "I may have a slight, minor shopping problem, if you hadn't noticed." Her hazel eyes narrowed in focused, pulling out the ends of the small gowns and examining their color, holding them up and matching then against Kayla's hair, her eyes, her skin; leaning towards warmer shades of yellows, greens, and reds. Autumn colors, for the school's most popular Autumn, naturally.

"Ah, I think I've found just the one!" With a victorious grin, she pulled out a hanger, a white bag draped what appeared to be a sleek orange gown. She'd already known what it was an could see it perfectly. It was cute, simple, and would match her completion perfectly - bring out those lovely eyes of hers. "I'll just leave this here for you..."

Brailynn laid the dress across the bed, pausing and tapping her finger against her cheek in wonder. Her eyes darted around the room. "You're gonna have to borrow a few more things from me..." She began to shift through her closet again, pulling out a few more bags. Strapless bra, totally necessary, as she doubted the girl had one... Underwear to match, both totally unopened, and already outgrown by her. Shopping addict, again. A few more bits and pieces were pulled out, hair buns, ties, panty hoes, all totally unecessary in the end. For good measure, she pulled out an old pair of gym shorts. "Always prepare for the worst," she'd said.

Perhaps her job had seemed somewhat overwhelming for the girl then, but it wasn't that difficult for Kayla to slip a few clothes on, right?
"Alright, time to leave the rags behind." She girl grinned in excitement, her hand brushing up against her shoulder as she walked past, reaching for the door. "Just come on out when you're ready!" In her joyous rush, the former Spring didn't linger long, shutting the door behind her and running off to grab who knew what else.

"I noticed." Yeah. A slight problem. Maybe. She wouldn't have been surprised if she had every color this side of the sun. No matter how open-minded she was forcing herself to be, she just couldn't wrap her head around why anyone would want to spend their extra money on shit like... well, this, when you could be spending it on anything else. How many times did she wear any of the stuff in this closet a year? Kayla just rubbed her arm as she went sorting through the mess, occasionally bringing one out to inspect against her. But she guessed that was why Brailynn was the one having to help her through all this.

That grin, that triumphant tone... Kayla stayed guarded as she went digging through the closet. Shit, was it too late to just show up in jeans and a hoodie again? She was thinking through all the glitter and ribbons and sappy pinks when Lynn dragged it out. A bright orange, no gems or rhinestones, nothing that dragged at the floor, cut right above the knee. Kayla tilted her head to look it over from top to bottom, chewing on the inside of her lip in contemplation.

She guessed she didn't hate it... Maybe.

Then she was busting it all out. Pantyhose, hairpins, gym shorts? Even a bra and underwear, something she hadn't even considered until now. She'd just figured she would've scooped up her own stuff back on the bathroom floor, but if she was locked in here, it made sense... Kayla gave a vacant nod, head spinning over all of it, another rush up her throat whenever her eyes laid on the dress, and then Brailynn was gone with a light graze over her shoulder, practically skipping out the door.

Now she was alone. She swallowed. In. Out. In. Out. Breathe. This was easy. If she could handle a giant lightning turkey in the Summer Tournament, she could handle Formal night. Kayla almost balled her hands into fists before remembering her nails, and she kept them straight at her sides, careful not to mess up any of Brailynn's hard work. What the fuck? she thought, the room lurching beneath her. What's happening to me?

There were butterflies in her stomach when she undid the robe, tossing it haphazardly on the bed, and reached for the clothes. Underwear first, and then the bra, strapless, which thankfully seemed to fit alright enough... Kayla paused for a moment, glancing over the old scars and ugly welts, fighting the knotting in her stomach, and grabbed toward the rest. Pantyhose first, covering up the faded white and pink scratches that webbed out over her legs and thighs, then the plain old gray shorts that seemed more her speed.

That just left... that. The big one. Kayla stared it over, drawing out the moment of hesitation just as much as she could without keeping anyone waiting, and slipped it over her head. No mirrors. That was Lynn's rule, and she didn't want to look at herself in this sort of get-up. "Shit..." she murmured to herself, smoothing it down and fixing how it clung to her, and then glanced out the door.

Well. Here went nothing. She couldn't stay here all day. Kayla turned the knob, poked her head out, and then she was padding out of the room, glancing from side to side like a mouse watching for predators. "Ta-da..." she wavered, not able to keep her forced smile, or even look up from the carpet. I look like an idiot.

Lynn had made well of what little time she had: rumaging through the closets, pulling out her old hair straightener, picking out the right shades of make-up out of her bathroom counters. Thank God, she'd known her way around her own organized chaos and had things set out on the dining room table in no-time. By the time she heard stirring at the door, she was already seated, shoe-box in one hand and sweet cookie in the other, on the verge of being stuffed straight into her mouth.

Once the door to her bedroom had finally clicked open, she whipped her head around, her hazel eyes brightening in the warm light. "Perfect!" The young woman flashed a grin, finding her way onto her feet and quickly striding across the room. "You look amazing!" She'd been right after all, the color and style fit Kayla just right, in her humble opinion anyways. There was only the finishing touches left to do.

"Just go ahead and have a seat here. Get comfortable." Brailynn stood, gesturing to her own seat and taking a big bite of her cookie. "And close your eyes!"

She couldn't help but allow that tiniest slip of a smile, even if it made her feel like a right fuckin' idiot. Hey, fuck her, even if it didn't have any weight behind it, she didn't hear that kind of thing all that often. So she was allowed to feel a little good about herself, just for a second, right? Whatever. Kayla crushed the show of emotion down and glanced over the table, the hair straightener, the make-up... Make-up. Damn, she'd known this part was coming, but she still felt that familiar night-long finger of dread creep back up into her stomach.

What am I doing, what am I doing, what am I doing...

Kayla made her way over to the chair, every step uncertain, like she was learning how to walk again for the first time. The pantyhose might as well have been a brand new set of legs. She sat down, blowing out hot air. Close her eyes. Yeah, fuck, like she could trust that. But she'd already gotten this far. Kayla closed her eyes, hands folded in her lap, holding herself back from wringing her wrists.

With eagerness brimming in her eyes, Lynn quickly scarfed down the last of her cookie, pulling another chair closer up, opposing Kayla's new seat, and getting comfortable. Admittedly, it was fun for her to be able to mess around with make-up up and try new things, but to be able to try it on someone else was twice as better - even more so when working on someone who'd never used it before. It was like having a fresh, blank canvas all to yourself. "Now let's see.."

The young woman raised her hand up, brushing her fingers across the girl's face and tucking her warm locks behind her ears as tender as she could. No two people were alike and the shapes of someone's face mattered every bit when picking out the best styles and methods. Of course the more natural look, would be necessary, but she was set on those lovely cheek bones and bringing out those eyes of hers.

Kayla really was adorable looking, she just couldn't see it. Not yet, anyways. "Don't worry," She mused, matching up the rights colors for her skin. "You won't end up looking like a clown."

As she grabbed the right tones of foundation and primer, utter necessities of course, her eyes caught onto the many scars still left uncovered; across her collar, down her arms... A familiar pang of sympathy welled in her stomach. She couldn't hide it all completely, but Lynn made a careful note of it.

"Sorry if it's cold," she apologized in advance. With a small, punite sponge, and an arsenal of brushes, she began her work; smoothing out her skin, airing out the small blemishes, taking extra time to fade away the thin scar across her cheek, or masking the dark circles under her eyes.

"Alright, a few pointers..." Lynn finished up her contour work, eagerly pulling out a small tin of eyeshadow, her favorite part. "You're going to be wearing heels, so always walk on your toes... Never on the actual heel. That's how ankles are broken." She dripped lightly into the warm oranges and browns, painting across the girl's lids. "Always sit with your legs together and keep your back straight." Even with the shorts, what was the point of formal wear if you didn't act so formal? It was a harder thing to remember than most realized.

She carefully curled the girl's lashes, adding a soft touch of mascara. "And when you're dancing, just relax." And finally, just a bit of nude stain for her lips, nothing too harsh, but pretty all the same. "And the boy always leads, alright? You can open your eyes now." With a final smile, after their long work, she stood up, grabbing a small brush and her straightener off the table, moving behind to finish her masterpiece.

As much as this whole situation made her head spin, she wasn't going to let herself ruin it. Kayla stared straight, trying not to fidget under Brailynn's soft touch, fingers grazing across her face and brushing away her hair. She was antsy, sitting still for all this shit. A clown... That was only half her worries. "I'm counting on it," she breathed, only half joking. Yeah, she trusted her. Of course she knew what she was doing. That didn't make it much easier to swallow. Make-up... It couldn't fix everything. Hide everything.

She could handle dirty looks in ripped jeans and a hoodie. What could they say that she didn't already know? You couldn't get stung if you didn't try. Going all out like this though, that was setting yourself up to get knocked down. Would Pres laugh seeing her in this get-up? Would someone else? Everyone would be there. The whole school.

Fuck. She didn't need to worry about any of that. Right now, she just had to keep her eyes closed.

Brailynn's warning let her brace for the brush against her face, around her eyes, across her eyelids. She wished she could've just blown it all off, laughed away all her advice, but she drank in every word, latched onto every little word of wisdom and etched it into her skull. "Heels look like a bitch," she laughed under her breath. Lynn might as well have put her in stilts. When she tripped on her face, was that supposed to add to her lady-like mien? "I don't think I'm really... heel material, y'know?" A nervous grin flickered across her face. "I'm not cut out for it." That kind of thing were for the queens, the fashionistas, the kind of people who belonged at the Winter Formal. This was just her imitation. Blending in. If she had to leave her old beat up sneakers at home, that was fine, but heels were a whole different ball game. That wasn't her level.

Legs together. Don't slouch. Got it. Just keep your face still.

Dancing. Color rose back to her cheeks again, knitting her eyebrows, curling her hands up in her lap. "And I can't dance," she said, all in a rush. "I don't dance."

But whatever. Noted. Something tugged at her eyelashes and glazed over her lips.

Kayla opened her eyes. Wearing all this felt a bit too much like wearing the mask in Brailynn's bathtub. She was half certain she'd walk into the crowd and everyone would turn and point and gasp at the ogre in the hall, and she'd catch her reflection somewhere and still have a layer of green clay smeared on her face. No matter how she rationalized it to herself, she couldn't shake the horrible fantasy playing through her mind.

She tried her best not to clutch at the dress, or chew on her lip, or grind her teeth, or touch her hair, or pinch her nose, or pick at her nails... Fuck. Don't ruin it... Was she a porcelain doll or something? One wrong touch and the whole Formal facade would shatter like china? Without any of her usual tics, she had to sit there bobbing her knee up and down, just short of squirming in her seat to burn off her nervousness. Electricity flickered high above her head, straining her thoughts to send it arcing away from her hair. Don't catch anything on fire either...

Brailynn found herself laughing far more openly, brushing through the girl's hair one last time to be rid of any stray tangles. "I don't think there's such a thing as heel material in the first place," she mused. Thankfully, her head had dried out by then, so there was no fear of frying the split ends immediately back into existence. She began to comb through, carefully pulling locks of her hair together and sweeping them into delicate curls. "Beauty is pain, Kayla. No girl wears heels for their comfort or stability." She paused in her work, careful not to touch the girl's skin with the hot iron as she worked her bangs, or pulled it in close to her neck, getting the deeper layers.

Her grin widened as the poor thing rambled on, adamant against dancing, or walking, or probably even breathing in that lovely gown of hers. "Just stick close to your -" Lynn near stumbled, choking on her own words. Ah, not a date. Right. "companion. It's their job to catch you too." She stepped quietly around, finishing up. "And if they don't, kill them." Her voice was light and biting. Like a true lady.

There was one more thing, of course. She'd had to spend a good minute rummaging, muttering to herself all the while, but it'd been worth it. Just a simple light cream, sprayed on easily. Lynn had made quick work of it, spraying it onto the girl's shoulders before Kayla could have even seen it coming. "Relax. Have fun," she muttered under her breath, letting her hands graze over the girl's exposed body, smoothing in the soft cream. She'd went out of her way to calm her own mind, taking a deep breath and drinking in what energy she could afford to give off, if that'd lesson any of her tension. "We only get one night like this a year." By the time the spray had settled in, her scars were all but gone - for the most part, anyways. At a glance, she was clean, the worst only seen if you were close or looking for it. It'd do.

Once all was done, the only thing left to do was add the sweet accents. The blonde had picked out a few choice pieces of her own: a light necklace, looped delicately around her neck, a thin bracelet around her wrist, and a few gold, delicate hair pins. Lynn took the extra time to pull her hair back carefully behind one ear, securing the soft locks away.

"Alright," she clasped her hands suddenly, absolutely beaming. "Moment of truth! Just slip those on -" She made a quick gesture towards a shoebox on the table. "- and come have a look!" Brailynn took a few quick steps away, opening a stray closet, a full-length mirror hanging on the inside of the door.

Right... Was it that stupid of her to say? Then what was the point? Did it make that much of a difference to a guy anyways, and was a rolled ankle even worth... that? Kayla didn't say anything, just focused on bottling in the sparks as Brailynn pulled the thing through her hair. Metal, heat, hair, she wasn't sure what her electricity would do if anything at all, but she wasn't ready to risk it and find out. Especially not on a night like this.

Kayla stiffened up, ready to object when she caught Lynn's pause, but breathed out again with her face burning even hotter than before. Broken memories flashed through her mind of static and rain and concrete, but she just smiled, awkwardly worrying at her palms. Sure, if it meant not breaking her face open, she'd stick close by, but no dancing. No way. She wasn't even sure she could walk in those things, let alone...

Kill him. She let out an awkward laugh, eyes darting up to Lynn and then to her hands again, flexing her fingers. Yeah. She could handle that too. Had she watched their match in the tournament...? Would she even realize—?

Brailynn's sudden touch and the cool wetness of the spray in her hands almost made her jump, but she slackened her shoulders and let her do whatever she needed. "Right," she murmured, echoing, "Relax." The draining tingle, the negative pressure of Brailynn's gift took the edge off in a weird way, and for a second she could breathe, the butterflies in her stomach settling down to rest for just a moment. When she glanced down again, she was almost startled by the difference it made, all those old scars... It wasn't perfect, but what was?

Not like she had anything to hide from her... companion. He'd already seen so much more than she'd ever wanted him to see.

One night like this a year. Don't fuck it up. Last year she'd been talking shit about all the 'yuppies' in their glittery gowns with Myles, and this year... Shit, what had happened to her?

Were they almost done? Kayla fingered at the necklace as Lynn looped it around her neck, turned her wrist over to examine the gold bracelet, tilted her head to let her put the pins in place. This was it... The shoes were tougher to deal with. She'd peeled back the cover like she'd been expecting snakes inside, and the look on her face was like she'd found some. Gold sandals that someone could use as a weapon.

There wasn't any bitching or moaning or delaying. She was a big girl, and she'd play by Lynn's rules here. Kayla took them out of the box, holding them by the tips like they were toxic, and bent over to slip them on. Standing up... was like standing on blocks of wood strapped to her soles. No shit, they weren't comfortable or stable, and she was an inch or two taller with these, holding out her arms for balance at first.

Alright, baby steps. Like learning to walk again. Kayla breathed in, breathed out, and made her way toward the closet. Her arms fell back to her sides in a more natural stride as she got the hang of it, but every step felt completely unnatural. Walk on her toes... Damn it, who fucking invented these things, and why?

That was her walk of shame, her death row, down to the execution. This was what it was all leading up to, and the last thing she wanted to see was a dolled up clown in a sparkly pink dress, green ogre shit still caked on her cheeks. Kayla stopped in front of the closet, eyes lowered, and sucking in one last breath, looked up. She wasn't sure what she was expecting, a complete transformation or the same old raggedy gutter rat in the mirror, but either way she met her own eyes in a paralyze sort of silence. Kayla could still recognize herself in the reflection, but the way her hair was curled, like a pop star's or someone's in a magazine. The dress, popping bright without being obnoxious. Her nails, the necklace, the jewelry, the little touches here and there, it added up to a whole new picture. No, she'd never thought much of make-up before, but staring at herself... Well, for a second, she'd started to understand why people cared about this kind of thing.

She looked like a whole different person.

Kayla couldn't stop staring, giving a slight turn to drink it in, her eyes moving over the contours of the dress, and she hated that she loved it. She smiled, then adjusted it to hide her teeth. For tonight, she didn't want to break this illusion.

"Lynn, this is..." Her smile split wide open and she corrected it again, covering her mouth, trying to hide the sudden swell in her chest. "I like it," she put quietly. "Do you think it looks okay?" There was a note of anxiety in her voice. Her face was burning from the embarrassment, but... maybe... it was kinda sorta alright?

As quiet as she was about it, Lynn could tell she was just as enthralled with her new formal outfit, if not less so than Kayla herself - no matter how she tried to hide it. She stepped behind the closet door, looking into the mirror and tucking her arms into her own robe, admiring the reflection herself. "Okay is an understatement." The young woman leaned over with a warm smile, placing her hand on her shoulder once more. "I think you're going to knock it out of the park tonight."

With one small, reassuring squeeze, she stepped away. "I'll just ready now and then we'll walk on over, yeah?" Brailynn left the girl to do what she please, heading off to find her own dress, among other things.