Participants:
| Scene Title | Cut And Blow |
|---|---|
| Synopsis | Veronica meets the hair stylist Raquelle while stopping in for a walk-in hair appointment. |
| Date | April 6, 2009 |
A Hair Salon in NYC
Money is short these days, or something or there is no way in hell Raquelle Jesus Yoshi Cambria, weirdass name aside, would be caught dead working in one of those hair cuttery like salon chains, renting a chair and taking his commissions like a good stylist who is broke would be doing. At the moment, the shop isn't really that busy, a few people getting their hair brushed and finishing touched put on a dye job but Raquelle is seated in his own chair, flipping through a magazine that hides his face for now, legs crossed and occasionally snorting at a ridiculous picture or something silly. And yes…he's reading and old copy of Cosmo - January edition, how to have 200 orgasms blahblahblahblah. Typical late afternoon.
And Veronica normally wouldn't go to a chain place — she may be low maintenance, but her chestnut locks are one of her few vanities. Still, she hasn't had the time to find a stylist she likes, and it's been too long since her last hair cut back in California. She opens the door to the salon, the bells jangling to announce her arrival. She heads to the girl at the counter. "Room for a walk-in?" she asks with a smile. Vee is dressed professionally, though still casually — pinstriped black pants, white blouse, her hair up in a haphazard twist held in place by a clip.
The girl at the counter pops her gum and pastes on a smile before flipping open the appointment book. "Raquelle's got some openings…" POP goes the gum again as she marks something down. "Can I have your name and like…what you want done?"
Veronica nods. "Veronica Sawyer," she says. "Just a wash, cut and blowdry, thanks," she says, her eyes narrowing a little at the pop of gum in the young girl's mouth. One of her pet peeves. "Nothing fancy." She smiles a little at her own joke — can anyone here do anything fancy? She doubts it, but luckily she's not a fancy kind of girl.
The girl mmhms, POP the gum again, writing something down and calling out. "RAQUELLE! You got a wash, cut and dry here…" Then she gestures towards
the line of chairs. "You'll be seen like, right away." POP.
Raquelle is rising from his seat, unfolding that sometimes taller than expected frame and stretching his arms over his head as he tosses the magazine aside and rolls his eyes. He takes his time to shake out the cape, it is purple and glittery naturally. "Suzie Bigmouth, this ain't the alps…no need to get to hollering like I'm half a mile away." He smirks and gestures towards his chair, eying Veronica curiously.
The slim and not-so-tall Veronica follows Raquelle's voice, her brows rising a little in surprise. "Raquelle. I thought you'd be a woman," she says, not judging the fact he's a male stylist, but simply acknowledging his ambiguous name. She moves to the chair and sits. "The hair's actually clean, so if you just wanna spritz and cut, that's cool, too," she says, with a shrug. No need to waste shampoo. Never say she's not ecological. "I just need a trim. Been a while since my last haircut. I just moved to the city a couple months ago and haven't had the time."
Raquelle's pale eyes sweep up and down the woman's form, quickly flicking back to her hair as he waves a hand vaguely at the mention of his rather feminine name. "Don't worry about it sugar…" Flip of his wrist before he arranging the cape around Veronica in a fluid motion. "Until my juevos dropped I'm sure my parents did too." He winks at the woman in the mirror before resting hands on her shoulders and hmming as he squints and listens. "You washed before coming? - Oh thank god for context, but your hair honey bear? You did the whole wash and - " He takes a moment to undo that clip, running fingers through Veronica's hair, shaking it out a bit before nodding. "When's the last time you had it all well conditioned?" He rubs a few strands of hair between his fingers before tsking. "And you're /gorgeous/ sugar, you have to make time to polish the upholstery when you have fine furniture, same if you've got good hair and you do have some lovely locks here…just relax and let Raquelle take care of ya." His fingers continue to run through the hair, arranging and parting it like so and eyeing it dubiously in the mirror.
The agent actually grins and relaxes into Raquelle's fingertips as he plays with her hair. "I condition. But like I said, I've been here two months, nothing professional in that time. And I had a temporary color rinse in for a bit, so it might not be up to snuff." She glances around the salon. "No offense, but usually this is a quick cut kinda place, isn't it? Didn't think I'd get salon quality treatment here. I mean…" she glances at the front to the gum-popping girl. "It's not Bergdorf's, or anything."
"Mmhm." Raquelle slips his fingers out of the hair, snagging a spray bottle and getting to work on wetting the hair down. "I'd usually suggest with brunettes to get a bit of a low-lights put in just to soften things out but if you've got the professional brunette badass thing going on girlfriend, then the color rinses probably saved your life. Close your eyes sugar, don't want to get water in them." He instructs as he turns the chair gradually, spritzing as he goes. A low and rumbling laugh that slides up in key by the end to a giddy sound of amusement erupts from the man and he runs fingers through Veronica's hair to make sure it is damp enough before giving a few more spritzes. He has a soothing voice, just short of having that…stereotypical affected 'ohmigod!' voice that separates the guys who are good to shop with from the guys who just want to bone you, if we're staying politically correct here. "I like to make sure my clients look good sugarplum, no matter what the sign above the entrance says. So don't you worry…now you don't want to lose length, yes? Just want a flatter cut, trim, enhance instead of make-over yeah?" He sets the bottle aside, hands moving to the apron like 'tool belt' so to speak at his waist, slipping out a pair of scissors and squinting.
"I'm bad at keeping up with anything artificial, colorwise… I do some rinses now and then for a different look, but always the shampoo out kind," she says with a chuckle, wondering if he knows just how close he is to knowing how having a different color hair can 'save her life.' She nods to his last question. "Nothing too crazy. I work… at a pretty conservative kind of place, so nothing drastic and asymmetrical. Keep the length, make it healthy, do whatever magic you can do on my blah boring hair without making it draw too much attention."
Raquelle twirls his scissors around on one finger before slipping a thin comb from another pocket and smirking. "Those cheekbones and those hips and homegirl wants to avoid drawing attention?" He snickers/titters and gets to work, spraying more water when and where he needs, biting his bottom lip and he's a careful individual, paying close attention to detail. Once he's done what could be considered a basic trim though? He's flicking open a razor and puts on a pair of thin black glasses as he /really/ gets to work, quickly mind you, but speed doesn't equal lack of quality.
She chuckles at his compliments. "Avoid attention within reason," she says with a wink into the mirror as she watches him work. "I mean… if I go out after work or something, I'm happy for a bit of attention, whether it be for my cheekbones or hipbones or the amazing haircut I'm getting." She grins, flashing those dimples and white teeth at him. "I just can't go to work looking like Sinead O'Conner or something, you know?" She watches for another couple of moments, before asking, "How long have you been doing this? I'm surprised you aren't booked solid."
The way he works that razor, steps back, parts and works on another part of hair, occasionally making wet hair fall in the poor woman's face, it is obvious he has been doing this for quite some time. "I'll try to give you something that works wet and just out of the shower, at a business meeting, or out clubbing and making men and probably women hornier than a hillbilly at a family reunion annnd…hold your head still for me, very still, I'm getting near those cheekbones to die for and I do not want to cut you, like…the last thing I'd ever want to do." He mmhms about the Sinead O'Conner deal before shrugging as he works. "Ahh…10 or so years by now, but I take work where I can get it honey, you know how it is when you've got kids…class goes out the window and you just end up lookin' for a good 9-5 and a steady paycheck."
Those arching brows of hers arch up once more, though Veronica does indeed sit very still as Raquelle cuts so very close to her face. "No, I don't actually know how it is when you've got kids, but I can imagine. I doubt I'll ever have any to be honest. I'm not what they call Good Mother Material. Or Good Wife Material for that matter," she says. It's not meant to dig for sympathy or assurances to the contrary — she says it rather straightforwardly as her golden-brown eyes stare into the mirror. "How old are your kids?" she asks, curiously.
"Theeen…chica, whatever you do, don't get drunk or wasted and have unprotected sex." Raquelle steps back. "You can breathe and move and stretch if you want before I finish up." He offers, setting up his blow dryer and yes…it is purple, why do you ask? "My eldest daughter's mother was really big on career and shit and never really wanted to be a mother, so I understand yo…" He straightens back up, setting the dryer aside and finding some product to squirt in his hands, waiting for Veronica to finish stretching or moving about or whatever she has to do. "Ah, I have an 8 year old and a 4 year old, both girls…they are my little angels." He nods slowly. "Make working in this crappy little walk-in more than worth it."
Veronica laughs aloud and stretches a little, reaching into her purse to check her Blackberry for any important emails, then slipping it back in. "Believe me, I'm not the type to do anything like that," she says with a shake of her head. "Not my style. I'm the epitome of careful." She smiles and shakes her head. "Well, at least you got your little angel out of it, even if her mother isn't interested. Your girls are lucky to have you, I'm sure. My dad was everything to me. My mom… well. She hasn't been there for me for a long time." A Daddy's girl, clearly.
Raquelle rubs his hands together before running his fingers + hair cream/product through Veronica's hair, massaging some into her scalp and chuckling. "Yep, and her mother is doing hella good in her solo career so I can't complain." He bobs his head and wipes his hands off on a towel before snatching up a round brush and picking up his hair dryer. "Well. Rock on single or mostly single dads then." Dryer goes on and hair brushing/slightly curling to get those waves and body back into it begins.
Veronica laughs. "Rock on, indeed," she says with a genuine smile flashed in the mirror for the effervescent stylist. "Ah, it will be so nice not to have split ends," she adds with a chuckle, her eyes on the mirror as she watches him blow dry her hair. "Just so you know, I can never make it look as good as you do — so hopefully it looks as good straight as it does all fluffy and pretty. I'm a disaster with a blow dryer, and curling irons are just weapons to burn me with, I think."
Raquelle winks and grins at the smile before brushing and arranging the style in progress. "Oh honey…" He tsks. "That's like tellin' a guy…" The dryer clicks off before his voice goes up a couple of octaves in an almost /dead on/ imitation of a voice close to Veronicas, "Oh…I hope you know I can never bring myself to climax as good as you do — so hopefully I still feel like smoking a cig after only coming 2 times as I do when you're riding me like freakin' bull. I'm a disaster with a home sex machine and vibrator are just weapons to make me numb, I think." He clicks the dryer back on, clearing his voice as it goes back to his normal register with a roll of his eyes. "If /you/ could make your hair look as good as I do honey, you wouldn't need to come to the salon now would you." Another smirk and a teasing wink before he licks his lips in concentration of his finishing touches. "Just promise me to do somethin' special for yourself tonight to celebrate your pretty hair and allllll will be well."
Veronica laughs merrily at his analogy. "Well, I'm glad I could make you feel good, then, honey," she tosses back. "And you know, that is pretty much true. For sex, I mean. It's never quite as good alone. No element of surprise with yourself." She grins. "As far as celebration, I'll see. Depends if I have to work or not. But I'll be sure to show it off to my admirers, no matter what. Someone besides me will think it's pretty, I promise."
Raquelle's eyebrow waggle as he gives a little shimmy before concentrating back on the hair, dryer eventually set aside so he can just brush and tease and tousle and get things juuuuust right, turning the chair around from time to time. "That's just because you're a chick, trust me my little chalupa with cheekbones…" Bottle of hair spritz, not spray, is picked up and he uses a hand to shield Veronica's eyes as he spritzes the hair-do with the holding serum. "This won't make it all sticky and icky like spray, but still keep it from falling fast - oh yes, what was I saying…ah, yes as a guy you are often surprised while alone. Especially when your hand speeds up of its own volition or ya know, a baby girl is knocking at your door in the middle of the night and you're serving as the tent-pole for bed-sheets and have to roll over on your stomach when they come in and say 'daddy's just doing push-ups…go eat a poptart and we can play with the keyboards…'" He speaks from experience. Seriously. "Annd…" He sets the bottle aside, fingers working on a few last minute touches before he picks up a mirror and turns it around to face Veronica as he offers the hand-held vanity monitor. "There you go honey. What do you think?"
TMI. But it makes Veronica laugh and she shakes her head in a bit of mirthful disbelief at the openness of her new hair dresser. "It looks amazing, thank you. Too bad I jog every day and will have to take a shower in the morning after running five miles," she says with a shake of her bouncy layers. "You're going to be a very very popular boy, at these prices and for this quality, Mister," she warns him. "I'm telling all my friends to come here." Yep, all two of them. She reaches into her purse for a tip that's separate from the price of the cut, slipping it onto his workstation.
Raquelle thumbs the side of his nose, taking his mirror back to put it back where it belongs then he slips a small card from his apron/belt thingie with his signature on it 'Raquelle Cambria' in purple cursive then the name of the shop and his name printed along with both his personal number and the number of the shop, offering it between two fingers and grinning. "You better be wearing a scarf or something around your head when you jog to soak up that sweat and keep it from over-salting your scalp pores little miss." He waggles a finger before he just has to grin. "That's the spirit, tell all your friends. I do styling, waxing and even nails." He waggles his own fingers with the shiny black gloss before glancing towards the tip and back to Veronica. "Thanks honey. I mean it, never hesitate to give me a call or stop by to see if my chair's open okay?" He actually snickers though, leaning towards the jar of Dum-Dum lollypops at his station and holding that out towards the lady. "You can have aaaany flavor you want." Wry twist of his lips.
The Company Agent laughs a bit at the thought of running around with a scarf on her head and just shakes her head again. She reaches in and selects a "cream soda" flavored dumdum. "Thanks," she says with a little lift of the lollipop and chuckles. "You take care of yourself, Raquelle," she says, and heads to the front to pay for her cut, the ridiculously low price that most people pay for a generic hair cut at such places.
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