Oh, God, why on earth did I tell him that?
Millsy laughs.
‘Perhaps, in the context of this place, you seem like a cool, gothic, artistic type. Some guys are really into that. I think you look good.’
I’m sure he’s just being polite.
‘What are most guys drawn to?’ I ask. ‘You can tell me honestly.’
‘Honestly… most guys are drawn towards bright, shiny things. Bold clothes, skin… I’m just as bad sometimes.’
‘You’re not telling me anything I didn’t know already,’ I reassure him. ‘Thanks for being honest.’
‘Not that you should change yourself for anyone,’ he insists. ‘You’re obviously a cool person.’
Do I look unapproachable? Are my dark clothes, combined with my lacking-in-confidence demeanour, putting men off me? Jackson did say I looked nervous…
I always thought I was happy with who I was but, I don’t know, maybe I’ve just been settling. Perhaps there is some middle ground, somewhere between refusing to diet to fit into a dress and actually looking like a friendly, approachable person.
‘Maybe I should force myself out of my comfort zone, buy some colours, shave my legs and burn my tights. Maybe I’ll watch a few more daring YouTube make-up tutorials, get my hair done…’
‘I could help, you know,’ Millsy says. ‘I haven’t paid for a haircut in years. I have friends who work in hair, beauty, styling – all desperate for models for portfolio work. You could wake up in the morning and go to bed a whole new person. Worst-case scenario, you’ll look hot. Best case, it will give you the confidence boost you’re after.’
I just stare at him for a moment.
‘I’m not gay,’ he insists again with a laugh. ‘Or trying to have sex with you. I’ve always had a female best friend. And, truth be told, I’m a bit bored at the moment.’
‘Is that why you’re looking out for me?’ I laugh. ‘Because you’re bored?’
‘I… don’t know why I am,’ he replies, equally bemused. ‘But, well, are you free tomorrow?’
Tomorrow is a Saturday – of course I’m free.
‘I am,’ I say after a couple of seconds. I need to at least pretend that I’m thinking about whether or not I have plans rather than just knowing I don’t as default.
‘OK, well, meet me tomorrow and… we’ll see.’
‘We’ll see?’ I reply.
‘Are you one of those people who doesn't like surprises?’ he asks.
‘Well, there are two kinds of surprises, right?’ I start. ‘There’s: “Surprise, here’s a birthday cake you knew nothing about!” and then there’s: “Surprise, this is Dr Whatever, he’ll be performing your Brazilian butt lift today!”’
Millsy laughs.
‘A makeover is a lick of paint on the walls. It isn’t knocking a wall down here and bricking up a window there,’ he says.
‘Yeah, I just want to refresh my look. I’m more than happy with my body.’
‘So you should be,’ he tells me. ‘You look great. So, makeover tomorrow sound good?’
‘It does,’ I reply. ‘OK, sure, let’s do it.’
‘Great,’ he replies. ‘You don’t need to worry about it. I have a couple of friends with a pop-up studio, who do drop-ins. They do a lot of portfolio work. They do a lot of stuff for me – usually just in exchange for photos. I need some waxing anyway.’
They might want photos of Millsy – he’ll look great in their portfolios – but I doubt pictures of plain old me are any use to them.
‘Are you going to be my girly best friend?’ I ask playfully.
‘Don’t knock it until you’ve tried it,’ he insists. ‘And, if meeting people to date in real life is what you want, I can steer you in the right direction there too. Acting aside, it’s maybe the thing I’m best at. Just do as I say, you can’t go wrong.’
I don’t know what it is about Millsy but I feel so good about myself right now. It’s nice, being around him. He’s obviously a really good-looking guy and he has this way of making you feel so important. He somehow makes you spend every second questioning why he’s even talking to you, but it’s not because of anything he’s doing.
I didn’t think it was possible to be this comfortable around a man I didn’t know well. Well, it’s a sign of the times, isn’t it? I’ve spent my entire teenage and adult life being told how to keep myself safe, given rape alarms – even Matcher has guidelines on how to stay safe when meeting people. And I’m not saying everyone on Matcher is dangerous but I’m not not saying that either. You never really know who people are. With Millsy, though, I just don’t feel any bad vibes, I don’t see any red flags – unless, of course, a man being normal and nice is a red flag, which, given my recent experiences, seems pretty unusual to me.
If Millsy has a female best friend and she’s getting married, then it makes perfect sense that he feels a bit pushed out. I know all about how unimportant you’re made to feel when someone close to you is getting married. It’s as if the entire world revolves around that one day, and everything is all about them. Perhaps he saw a bit of what he’s feeling in me and that’s why he’s taking me under his wing.
Whether he’s just bored, or a saint, or cares about me specifically for some reason, I’m not about to turn down a free makeover.
We sit and we chat and we order more drinks. We talk about makeovers and life choices and movies and everything in between – in fact, we chat so much, Millsy doesn’t even make a move to go and hang out with his friends until I decide it’s my bedtime. Millsy is a lot of fun to talk to – way more fun, and much sharper, than any of my Matcher dates. Perhaps meeting people in real life is the way to go and, with Millsy on my side, I might actually stand a chance.
6
Zander, Millsy’s hairdresser friend, looks as though he’s about to cry.
‘When was the last time you had a trim?’ he asks me. I suspect he knows the answer because he has a face as if every single word he says tastes bad.
‘Oh, I don’t know really,’ I lie. I kind of know. It’s been a while. ‘I’m trying to grow it a bit but it never seems to get any longer.’
‘It’s breaking,’ he snaps at me. ‘Do you straighten it?’
‘Yes…’
Zander says something in… I think Italian? Whatever it is, I don’t imagine it translates into anything positive. His hair is, of course, absolutely perfect. Longish on top, swept over to one side. It’s possibly the sleekest black hair I have ever seen in my life. So perfectly shiny I can almost see things reflecting in it.
It’s just me and Zander in the small training salon. Millsy is off somewhere getting something waxed. I dread to think what. I do kind of wish he were here though, to defend me against this moody stylist.
Zander puffs air from his cheeks before relaxing into something calmer.
‘OK, we can fix this… So, you want longer hair?’
‘Yes… Well, that was what I was working towards…’
‘Are you in a hurry?’
‘Nope, no hurry. I just really appreciate you taking the time to do this for me.’
Zander bats my gratitude away with his hand.
‘And I can do whatever I want?’ he confirms for maybe the fourth time.
‘Yes…’ I reply, although every time I have to answer the question, I sound a little less like I mean it.
‘Allora,’ he says. ‘Let’s do it. You want me to do it away from the mirror, so you can have a big reveal?’
‘OK,’ I reply brightly, instantly wishing I hadn’t said that. At least if I were watching, I could tell him to stop.
To start with, Zander starts snipping away at my chest-length, dark blonde locks. I have no idea how much he’s taking off, but it seems like a lot, from the hair I can see gathering on the floor.
Eventually Millsy joins us.
‘Oh my God,’ he blurts, a look of terror on his face. Before I have chance to ask what’s wrong, but not before I panic, Millsy starts laughing.
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‘He’s quite the prankster, isn’t he?’ Zander says with a laugh. ‘Such a lad.’
On face value, Millsy does seem like a ‘lad, lad, lad’ type but… I wouldn’t have thought that type would be so thoughtful.
‘So, what are you doing?’ Millsy asks Zander.
‘Something completely different,’ he replies. He squeezes my shoulder. ‘Whose hair do you like?’
‘I’ve always thought Jessica Simpson had nice hair,’ I say.
‘Forget Jessica Simpson, what about Jessica Rabbit?’ Millsy suggests. ‘You’ve got the curves, all you need is the hair.’
I blush because Millsy has noticed my body shape. I didn’t think he looked at me as a woman. A potential friend, at best, if not just a charity case.
‘Oh, I don’t know about that,’ I say. ‘I’ve been blonde all my life.’
‘Well, you should be comfortable,’ Millsy insists. ‘But I can totally see it.’
‘Do you want to see some colours?’ Zander asks me, dashing off before returning with a book full of locks of hair in varying colours. ‘So, this shade of blonde right here, that’s your Jessica Simpson shade. Over the page… this deep red is your Jessica Rabbit. I think both would look gorgeous.’
‘I’m not sure I’m ready for hair that is shorter, and a different colour,’ I say, anxiously reaching up to check the length of my hair. He’s taken off less than I thought.
‘I’m not going to make it shorter, darling, I’m giving you hair extensions,’ he replies. ‘So either way, you can have the hair you want. Jessica Simpson is your girl-next-door look, playful, cute, et cetera. Jessica Rabbit is your hot red, wild child, siren look. It all depends on the vibe you want. So, what’s it going to be: Simpson or Rabbit?’
I bite my lip, as I always do when I’m thinking hard or concentrating. Long, bright blonde hair sounds like everything I’ve been trying to achieve on my own. I could get the length (which I guess was never going to happen without professional intervention) before getting some highlights put in. It sounds nice, but wouldn’t be that different for me. If I want to shake up my look I need to do something drastic.
‘Rabbit,’ I blurt nervously. ‘Let’s go for Rabbit.’
‘Yes, that’s what I’m talking about,’ I hear Millsy say behind me. ‘I take risks all the time – they always pay off.’
‘Until one day, when you get a specific kind of infection the antibiotics can’t quite shift,’ Zander teases him.
Oh, so Millsy is a ladies’ man. That’s what it sounds like.
‘You’re just jealous,’ Millsy claps back.
‘Hello, hello,’ a high-pitched woman’s voice squeaks behind me. ‘I’m Dani, I’m here to do your make-up.’
‘Oh, wow, hi,’ I say. ‘This really is a makeover.’
Dani plonks herself down on a stool in front of me. She asks me questions about what kind of make-up I wear, what sort of look I'm into and so on. I tell her that I want a much bolder, stronger look. That I want perfectly chiselled cheekbones (or at least contouring to make them look that way) and a highlight that would make an influencer jealous. Dani laughs, but says that not only can she make it happen, but she can show me how to do it myself moving forwards.
Honestly, I’m expecting to wake up any second; this can’t be real life. Sure, I have to pose for a few photos for their portfolios, but I can’t believe Zander and Dani are doing this for free. All of it. Transforming me into a completely different person. I want to be more confident in my look; I want to be someone who feels worthy of love. I’m sick of being cast aside by men, by my cousin and my auntie treating me as if I'm not good enough. I don’t just need an image makeover, I need an attitude makeover too. And it’s coming. With every length of deep red hair I see Zander bring towards me, and with every sweep of make-up Dani applies to my face, I feel my confidence growing.
‘Do you fancy going out again tonight?’ Millsy asks me. He’s patiently waiting for me, chatting with everyone as he thumbs through old copies of Cosmopolitan magazine. ‘We could try out your new look at Hades, see if any more men give you their number.’
‘I’d love to,’ I reply. ‘Although, should I not contact the guy I swapped numbers with first? Before I go trying to bag others. The guy last night seemed awesome. Friendly, handsome…’
‘Nah, dating is a numbers game,’ he tells me. ‘You can’t waste your time on one person – and you better believe he isn’t putting all his eggs in one basket. If he’s so great, all the more reason to practise your flirting game. See, if I had been flirting with you last night, well, all you did was tell me how you’d been stood up.’
‘Erm, you kind of inserted yourself in my jilting, but I take your point,’ I reply. ‘So, I’ll practise talking to guys tonight and then I can give this guy a call, see what happens…?’
‘Exactly,’ Millsy says, clapping his hands together. ‘That’s exactly what you need to do. Be more man.’
‘Be more man,’ I say to myself with a laugh.
‘If you’re going to take dating advice off anyone, take it from this guy,’ Dani tells me. ‘He’s been on a lot of dates. Do not, however, take relationship advice from him. He has no experience with actual, meaningful relationships.’
‘Oi,’ Millsy laughs. ‘I didn’t realise it was Bash Millsy Day.’
Millsy hops up from his seat and squats down in front of me.
‘How against telling me your dress size would you be?’ he asks. ‘I know men aren’t supposed to ask, but I could go and grab you a dress for tonight. You’re going to be stuck here for hours, getting your hair done.’
‘Oh, erm… yeah, I guess I could tell you. It just sort of depends on the shop and the style… Like, on a good day, in the right shop, I’m easily a twelve, but if there’s no stretch in the chest…’
Wow, Millsy is really invested in this makeover, if he’s willing to go out and pick up a dress for me.
‘Stand up for a second,’ Millsy says, while Zander is off getting more hair and Dani is cleaning her brushes.
I do as he says before he places his hands on my waist. He runs them up and down my sides before giving me a sort of strange hug that feels as if it is exclusively for sizing me up. I feel my body stiffen in his hands. I’m clearly not used to men touching me. Last of all, he checks my height against himself. I barely reach his shoulders.
‘What are you, some kind of curves whisperer?’ I joke.
‘Something like that,’ he replies. ‘Shoe size?’
‘I’m an eight, so good luck with that,’ I reply. ‘Are you actually going clothes shopping for me?’
‘I have a friend,’ he tells me. It sounds as if he has a lot of friends. ‘She’ll hook you up.’
‘OK, sure,’ I say. ‘Thank you so much.’
‘Probably an ex still pining after him,’ I hear Zander say to Dani quietly.
I don’t care if Millsy is a ladies’ man, he’s really going out of his way to help me, and, from what I can tell from the stories, it sounds as if his insincere encounters are far briefer. Assuming I like my new look, of course, because the more time that passes by without me seeing what I look like, the more nervous I get…
7
I don’t know who I am any more.
Millsy dropped off my dress before dashing home to get ready while Zander finished off my hair. By the time Millsy got back it was time for me to slip into my dress, ready for the big reveal. I knew I was in for a shock, but I didn’t realise how different I was going to look. Boy, do I look different. So different it was as if I were looking at a picture of stranger, not in a mirror. Zander said I looked like the real, authentic me, which sounded great, but I never would have thought my authentic self had so many bits stuck to her, like hair and eyelashes. Dani was so proud of her work, constantly telling me how great I looked, taking so many photos. As for Millsy, it took him a few seconds to say anything. He just stared at me, expressionless, and for moment I was worried that he thought I’d made a terrible m
istake… but then he smiled.
So here I am, the new, authentic me, out again, this time in a short, bright red dress, an impossibly high pair of black heels, with my long red hair cascading down, framing the curves highlighted by my dress, and then my make-up… the make-up that gives me an almost completely different face. Honestly, when I saw it earlier, I wanted to cry, but Millsy said I wasn’t allowed to, lest I ruin my make-up.
My makeover has had the most fabulous effect. I feel so amazing, so confident, and still somehow a bit like a fraud, but I’m pushing that feeling to the back of my mind. I don’t feel as if I’m me right now, but right now I’m kind of into it.
Millsy looks great, with his wild curls tamed, in yet another perfectly fitted shirt with the sleeves rolled up a quarter of the way. He’s so effortlessly stylish, I don’t know how he does it. It took a whole team of people to make me look like this.
Another reason I don’t recognise myself is because I am at Hades for the second night in a row (also the second time in my life, but we don’t need to dwell on that part).
It turns out Millsy is somehow ‘in’ at Hades. I’m definitely interested to find out how but right now I’m just loving the attention my new look is getting me. It isn’t that everyone is checking me out, and it’s not that I want everyone to fancy me or anything, it’s just that… I don’t know, it finally feels as if people can see me. We’ve only just got here and a large group of Millsy’s male friends are already gathered around one of the super-VIP tables. Every single one of Milly’s friends is a big, buff dude, just like him. I wonder whether or not they’re actors, but I don’t recognise anyone.
Standing at the edge of the VIP area, checking his phone, is a man with short brown hair and a neat brown beard. He laughs at something on his phone, which showcases his gorgeous smile.
‘Who is that?’ I ask Millsy.
‘Why don’t you go and find out?’ Millsy suggests.
‘What, just go over and talk to him?’
‘Yeah,’ Millsy says.
The Plus One Pact Page 5