Back to the Salon

On the ride to the salon, Noah stared at the large envelope in his hands. He knew photos had to have been taken of that night, but he didn't expect to have any for himself. He didn't know if he wanted to open the envelope or destroy it. Not having a pocket big enough to keep it on him, he shoved it under his seat to deal with later.

His mom finally spoke again as they pulled into the parking lot, “This code they gave you. Is it just for the removal?”

“Um, no,” Noah mumbled, picking at a loose thread on his jeans. “It's a whole free session.”

She tried to keep her voice neutral, "Any plans on what you want to get?"

"Nothing, just getting rid of these things," he said, gesturing to himself.

"You know, it's free. Sounds like an opportunity to dress...however you want," she told him. “You want me to come in with you?”

Noah shook his head quickly. “No, I’ll be fine. Should be quick.”

Noah stepped out of the car and walked toward the surprisingly plain building, ready to finally put the madness behind him. He hesitated before pushing into the building, disappearing from his mother's sight.

She was lost in thought when her eye saw the edge of the envelope peeking out from under the chair. Curiosity got the better of her, and she reached over, grabbing it with the tips of her fingers. Quickly, she opened it but was not prepared for what she was about to see.

Noah pushed open the door to the salon, the bell above chiming with an infuriatingly cheerful sound. The lobby was just as he remembered: sleek, sterile, and eerily devoid of human staff, but this time much less busy than it was for prom night. He quickly walked to the large kiosk screens flashing advertisements for services. He approached the nearest one and tapped the screen until he located a "Redeem Code" option. He typed in the string of characters customer service had provided, holding his breath until the screen finally displayed: "Code Accepted." Instead of his name, "Support Recipient01 - Chamber 3." flashed at the top of the list, placing him next in the line queue.

It was nearly instantly that "Support Recipient01 - Chamber 3" blinked green at the top of the list, indicating it was time to enter. He swallowed hard and walked towards the back hallway where the door to Chamber 3 slid open with a soft hiss. It took him a moment to find his courage as he stood at the threshold.

"It was a freak accident last time. It will be fine," he told himself.

He finally stepped inside, moving cautiously as he attempted to keep calm. Segmented walls, the salon chair, the basin, and the drain in the floor were all exactly how he remembered them. The door behind him sealed shut, once again locking him inside a salon chamber.

The stilted, feminine voice echoed from the hidden speakers, "Please reconfirm your Redemption Code Number."

Noah flinched, hearing that voice again, but pushed his fears away and repeated the number he punched into the kiosk moments earlier.

"Redemption Code Number confirmed. Thank you. Loading Profile," the voice responded pleasantly.

Noah was about to let out a sigh of relief but was interrupted by a troubling sound. Metal grinding behind the walls accompanied the lights dimming and flickering momentarily. Noah backed away toward the sealed door, afraid he knew what was happening.

"PrOfiLe ERROR fOuNd. WeLcOme ERROR. We see yOu haVe a cOmpLimenTary seSsiOn."

Noah slammed at the door uselessly as he heard the sounds of his nightmares once again, "Come on!"

The voice continued, a distinct, cheerful, yet glitchy upswing in its tone, “YOu haVe seLeCted… 'Hot Girl Summer!' PleaSe say 'yes' tO cOnfiRm.”

"No! This can't be happening again!" he said, trying to slam his shoulder into the chamber door.

“YOu haVe seLeCted, Yes. ThAnk yOu fOr cOnFiRminG!” The voice chirped, the cheerful tone now utterly menacing. “PLeaSe haVe a seaT anD-anD-anD wE cAn gEt stArTed whEnEveR yOu aRe reADy!”

Noah rubbed his shoulder, his eyes darting around the room as the familiar whirring and clicking sounded from behind the walls. He stopped, hoping that if he waited in silence that the machine wouldn't continue. Maybe if he waited long enough, his mom might come looking for him.

“ThaNk yoU. LeT’s gEt stArTed!” the voice sang out, dashing that hope.

"I didn't sit down!" he screamed.

The ceiling panels snapped open with a loud series of clicks, releasing the mechanical arms that descended. Before Noah could even attempt to dodge, two arms tipped with clamps grabbed his ankles. They pulled his legs back, causing him to land on his belly as he protected his face with his arms. His hoodie and shirt were tugged along his body causing a sharp pain from the fabric catching on the prosthetics before his clothes ripped unceremoniously over his head.

“Not again!” he roared, as he was helplessly maneuvered towards the salon chair.

He was yanked off the ground and then slammed into the chair, where restraints pinned him in place. One arm, equipped with a rapidly spinning brush and a nozzle, descended towards his head. He braced himself, thinking that the thing was about to rip his hair from his scalp. Instead of pulling, however, streams of synthetic hair in varying shades of sun-bleached blonde and brown came down. They were then expertly woven into his own dark locks. The process was dizzyingly fast, the metallic fingers weaving and tugging, extending his hair to an impossible length. He could feel the weight of it, the unfamiliar strands cascading past his shoulders, down his back. Then, with swift, precise movements, the arms gathered the newly lengthened tresses, parting them into two thick sections and expertly fashioning them into pigtails, secured with bright yellow ribbons.

Next, arms moved to his lower body, snatching away his jeans and boxers. Cold air hit his exposed skin before a new garment was maneuvered into place. He felt soft, stretchy fabric slide up his legs as a pair of panties, edged with white lace, were pulled into place. A matching bra was quickly fastened across his chest, lifting the prosthetics while being clasped behind his back.

A new set of arms presented Noah with what he was clearly about to be dressed in. It was a short, floral sundress with thin spaghetti straps and a flared skirt. His arms were maneuvered through the straps, and the dress was pulled down over his torso, cinching slightly at the waist before the skirt billowed out around his thighs.

He had no time to recover as a pair of strappy espadrille wedges with impossible height were presented to him, almost as if the machines were excited to show him. His feet were **** in, and his ankles buckled securely. He flexed his feet, the unfamiliar angle already sending jolts of discomfort up his legs.

A panel in front of him slid open, revealing a dazzling array of cosmetics. He was hit with a fine mist of primer, then a dewy foundation rubbed into his skin. His eyebrows, which had only slightly started to grow back, were quickly touched up. Shimmery gold eye shadow was blended across his lids which was followed by waterproof mascara that made his lashes look long and dark. A peachy blush was swirled onto his cheeks followed by a bubblegum pink lipstick that painted his mouth. Noah sat there, trembling, feeling the light fabric of the sundress against his skin and the precarious angle of the heels.

“YOuR ‘Hot Girl Summer!’ pAckAge iS nOw cOmpLete. We hOpe yOu enJoY yOur nEw lOok, ERROR. ThaNk yOu fOr chOoSinG uS!”

The door slid open and before he could even think to resist, he was **** out of the chamber once again. His legs wobbled in the wedges, the short skirt swishing around his thighs with every unsteady step.

Back in the car, Noah's mother shuffled through the glossy photographs, sitting with a confusing mix of emotions. There was Jacob, looking proud and handsome in his prom suit, and beside him, beaming under a sparkly tiara, was the most stunning girl. Her red dress flared perfectly, her makeup was flawless, and her hair was elegantly styled with a delicate flower. It was the same lovely girl who came home and spun an impossible story about malfunctioning machines.

The photos showed "Noelle" laughing with girls, dancing with Jacob, and overall looking like she was having the time of her life. They did not look like they were pictures of someone who didn't want to be exactly there.

"I knew they were close but..." She said to herself as she stared at a photo of Noelle kissing Jacob's cheek as they slow danced.

She was snapped out of her thoughts when she saw the pretty girl in the yellow summer dress stumble out of the salon. When she realized that it was her son, she stuffed the photos back into the manila folder and put it back. She turned her attention back to Noah with wide eyes.

Noah walked out into the bright sunlight, his long, newly blonde-streaked pigtails bouncing against his shoulders. The short floral sundress did little to hide his long legs, now made even longer by the towering wedges he teetered on. His face was flush under the summery makeup, as he clutched his arms around himself trying desperately to seem smaller and less exposed as he wobbled towards the car.

Noah practically fell into the passenger seat, slamming the door shut and hunching over, burying his face in his hands, "It... it did it again," Noah choked out, his voice muffled by his hands.

His mom could only blink as she looked at Noelle. Once again, her son had disappeared and left this pretty young woman in his place. Her mind added up everything she had seen and heard, and she could come to only one conclusion.

She has a daughter.

"Is this her way of telling me?" she wondered.

She wanted to lean over and wrap her arms around Noelle, but she reminded herself that she just lied about the machines again. She told herself that she must not be ready to say the words yet, but it was clear that she wanted to be Noelle, if at least for the day.

"Okay, honey. We'll figure this out," she said softly, starting the car.

A plan began to form in Noelle's mom's head as she pulled out of the parking lot. It was too nice a day to let her little girl hide herself away, even if she wanted to pretend not to want to be Noelle. She needed support, and what better way to show it than having a little mother/daughter day together?