Honey Bunches of Fab


peyton_icon.gif raquelle_icon.gif

Scene Title Honey Bunches of Fab
Synopsis Peyton gets some salon therapy from the illustrious Raquelle Cambria.
Date August 29, 2009

Cambria Salon and Day Spa

Tranquil and Fabulous wrapped up in warm and inviting colors and the sleek lines of Japanese architecture…Cambria Salon and Day Spa is a fashionable paradise. Dark almost black wood paneling has been used through out the hotel, fresh flowers are found in glass vases and exchanged with flower shaped candles every day at 4 PM. There is a different theme for just about every day of the week, but nothing set in stone. There are 8 or so individual work stations with leaf shaped mirrors and comfortable chairs. There are a couple of private rooms for waxing, facials and massages and the like including a private station and office for the owner. The reception area is designed for comfort with the black seats and coughs, glass coffee tables and glass/wood reception desk. Over all the salon is edgy and sleek, it is Cambria Salon and Day Spa.

Saturday! Saturday mornings aren't super busy but there are quite a few people getting their hair and nails done. There's a tiny Japanese looking girl at the front desk checking people in or accepting money, her hair is in dreads for some reason but all the employees are wearing black t-shirts with purple writing advertising the salon and dark jeans, a variety of shoes.

The young woman who enters the salon doesn't look the typical type to come into such a place. She's wearing torn jeans, a pair of Converse, and lacy black camisole. A "newsie" cap is pulled low over her forehead, and she wears a pair of those bug-eye sunglasses like the Olsen twins and other young divas wear.

Peyton's stylist moved to Paris two months ago, so it's been a while since she's had her hair done. Her usually short bangs that come to a sort of point in the center of her forehead are a bit long, falling into her eyes, so it's time to get a cut! She approaches the counter, pulling off her sunglasses and looking around the place. "I used to get my hair done by Jean-Luc Saint Clair, but he's back in Paris. Is there a way to get an appointment today?" she asks, name-dropping one of the big names in New York styling.

Mimi, the receptionist just eyes the young woman for a few moments before hmming softly and flipping open the big book of appointments, scanning through the pages before sighing. "The only person with an openin' is Raquelle you know. Kelly's good though, you want?" She stands there with pen poised to hand over.

"Sure," Peyton says with a shrug. She's at the point where she just has to have at the least a trim (though it would never occur to her to go to a chain place for such an easy procedure). "Now, or should I … wait?" She gestures to the waiting area.
"Mmhm, just sign here and we'll see right to you." Mimi eyes Peyton with a 'hmm, you look familiar' squint. After the book is signed though, she just holds up a once moment finger and opens her mouth, "RAQUELLE YOU GOT A CHICK HERE WHO NEEDS YOU!"

Let us pause for a moment, there is one thing Raquelle hates, he expects it, but he hates when his receptionists yell for him like he's in France or something. And he comes out of his office wearing tight black t-shirt and dark jeans, doc martins on his feet and yes…make-up and his eyeliner, his emo fringe sporting a streak of green. He sighs and raises his voice as he makes his way towards the front desk. "MIMI I AM RIGHT HERE!" He takes a deep breath. "I'm not - " Then he sees Peyton, eyebrows shooting up and hands going to his hips as he pulls a face, squints, and then recognizes her. "…oh hell no, oh he-Mimi?! You said 'chick' not 'hot paparatzi mess'" He sighs and moves to gestures towards a back station. "C'mon honey, c'mon…quickly lets get you at a back station…lord, this is my punishment for the handcuffs and the whipped cream, I know it."

The "Paparazzi mess" in question makes a face and blinks when Mimi shouts for Raquelle. It's enough to make her consider turning and walking out but… she really does need a trim. Her hand slides up to push her bangs out of her eyes. When Raquelle comes out, she doesn't seem worried by his flamboyant appearance — after all, she's partied with enough of the entertainment world that she knows that gay men make for great parties and great friends. She smiles tentatively as he gestures toward his station.

"I'm not that much of a mess, am I?" she teases back. Sure, her bangs are long, and her nails are all broken or chewed off. Her fingers still bear almost-healed scrapes and scratches from her escape; her wrists still bear the marks from the zip-tie restraints. As she walks toward the station, she pulls off her cap, revealing her long dark hair beneath, pulled into a messy little bun at the nape of her neck.

Raquelle's baby blues sweep up and down Peyton's body, fingers lingering in places like the nails and wrists and then the too long bangs and when the hair is exposed his jaw just sets and he re-directs the woman back towards the sinks. He does snatch up his sparkly purple cape as he goes, adjusting the toolbelt like apron he always wears.

"Oh no honey, you're not a mess. Michael Jackson is still hot too. Oh oh, and Madonna? Has never seemed like a very talented fabulous slut either. Don't worry." The sarcasm drips from his words, but there is concern in there as well. "We're doing a wash, trim, and mani yes?" He gestures towards the chair and tsks softly. "Those bastards ought to be ashamed of themselves, you have such lovely wave…"

"Wow. Comparing me to Madonna and MJ. I am in bad shape," Peyton says back, though her eyes sparkle a little. She's used to having very serious and very somber conversations in the past week or so, and it's nice to have someone to joke with. She frowns down at her nails. "There's not much to work with, but yeah, a trim and a mani would be good." She leans back to let someone take care of her for a bit.

Raquelle gets the cape wrapped around Peyton, lips twitching and eyebrow raising once more. "Don't worry babyface. Kelly'll take care of ya." He drawls, selecting shampoos and conditioners and towels and everything. He's got a very vanilla like smelling selection of supplies he's using, lots of moisturizing/conditioning components as well to repair hair and he sighs, fingers working to undo the bun then run fingers through it as he starts wetting things down.

"You want color or just french it out hm? There's always something to work with, even if we have to get some fakes - not claws - but bits of nails here or there so you look all elegant and lady like." He begins the hair washing rather quickly though, fingers massaging scalp and he's thorough.

"It's okay, I'll keep them short. I'm not sure what I'll be doing, might have to do something that would just break off any tips," Peyton says, unsure of what all her duties will be with the new group she's agreed to assist. She's not used to doing any sort of work, covert operations especially. "So I don't remember this salon being here before, is it new?" she asks, her dark eyes closing as she melts into the warm water and Raquelle's able hands. There are purplish smudges beneath each eye, as she hasn't been getting much sleep.

There are some instincts people can't ignore, really, Raquelle's paternal instincts do go nuts as he runs his fingers and shampoo and etc through Peyton's hair, rinsing out all the shampoo and moving on to conditioner over time. He studies Peyton's face thoughtfully and worries his bottom lip before ahhing softly. "You should be careful whatcha get involved in honey, before you know it you'll be on you tube looking a hot mess with broken nails because you weren't careful."

Caution given he has to chuckle at the question. "Yes, we're very new honey, but doin' really well so far. Lovely place to come and get away from the chaos of all the well known places." He rubs hair between fingers, testing and toying before doing another rinse.

"I already was on youtube looking like a hot mess," Peyton points out. "Though my nails were still all right at that point. It was escaping that screwed them up." She smiles, her eyes still closed. "I'll be careful," she adds, though that may not be an option at this point. "Now that I know what it's like, I want to help, you know? Make the world a better place. I didn't really care before, because it was all outside of me." She swallows, trying to keep the tears that come to her eyes at the thought of her former selfishness behind the closed lids.

Raquelle freezes up for a moment before wrapping a towel around Peyton's head. "Sit up, c'mon…lets go to my station." And his station is a bit more private than all the rest, he gets her seated and he's just quiet, pulling out a comb, drying hair with the towel as much as possible before starting to spritz something on it and run a comb through the hair.

"Mmhm, I know honey. Trust me, I know…you ever considered doin' public service announcements with some TV station or something? I know lots of famous folks that do stuff like that." Raquelle's brow furrows. "You want just a trim yeah? Cuz I can work some more layers into this all, give you more body."

"I don't know about public service… I mean… it seems like it just gets people in bigger trouble. I'm trying to keep a little bit of a low profile. Hence that stupid hat," she says with a chuckle, letting him lead her to his work station. "Sure, some layers would be fine. I should probably chop it all off for a new look to throw people off, make them think I'm someone different, but…" Well, she's still a vain 20-year-old girl. She's not quite ready for everything in her world to change. She has a new power, she's been kidnapped, she's now working with what are possibly illegal organizations to fight the status quo. She wants to keep her long hair at least!

"Go ahead and cut some layers. If I decide to chop it all off like Twiggy I'll be sure to come back."
Raquelle laughs softly, combing hair and working out tangles and putting in some more leave in conditioner before he begins cutting with professional ease and speed, and yes…he's using mostly a razor though, his signature. He does use scissors for the basic trim, but yeah…he's razor man. "You could get a /fashionable/ hat honey, a fedora or some snazzy little cloth hats or berets. Just make sure you work the dangling or hoop earrings and keep your sunglass choices cute."

Ever helpful with things like that he moves on quickly back to the topic of helping. "This is how I help, I make people look good and feel better about themselves. You cut your hair all off, you better come to me so I can make sure it flatters your face darlin', you're too precious to get a hack job. I don't care how many people meddle with your life."

"See, I was trying to look … well, not like a fashionista," she points out. "Trying to lay low a bit, you know? No one expects me to go around town looking schlumpy, you know? At least the jeans are designer. I don't think the Humanis First jerkoffs can tell the difference between designer and Wal-Mart brand, though, so that's safe, don't you think?" She watches the hand holding the razor flick around, cutting layers, in the mirror.

Raquelle's nose wrinkles. "You don't have to look like a fashionista, but you don't have to look like…ew honey." He offers softly before rolling his eyes at the mention of Humanis First. "But you do what you feel you must do to stay safe." He tousles hair to see how it falls before adjusting and trimming somewhere else.

He stays quiet though to avoid being overly paternal, really. He doesn't ask about food or where she lives or anything! This is progress. He just asks, "You don't mind though if I do make your hair look lovely, hm?"

"Ew? I was aiming for that kind of too hip college student who doesn't give a shit about how she looks but I guess that was a fail on my part," Peyton says with a smirk. "No, you go ahead and make it look fabulous. I don't want them to take away everything from me. I was told I could get a face change and shit like that before I got kidnapped but after I found out what I was… but I didn't want to, I don't want to be someone else, you know? I mean… if I change everything, don't I stop being me at some point?" She bites her lip and watches her hair fall around her face when he does the test tousle.

Raquelle brings out a rounded brush and a blow dryer once he's happy with the cut and he speaks in between blowing sessions so he can be heard. "Oh honey, bring out the hoodies and cardigans, keep with the jeans and converse sneakers but occasionally toss in a nice bag or some sassy accessories. You won't draw too much attention, but you'll still feel fabulous." He winks, more blow drying.

After a moment he cuts the blow dryer off and reaches forward to tap a finger against Peyton's chin, turning her head from side to side as he looks at her in the mirror. "Hold on to who you are by embracing who and what you are on the inside, hm? Anything can happen to your outsides, but you'll still be you. But if you have a choice? Don't change this pretty face. I can show you hella good make-up tricks or even do some for you any time you need to hide something, but you have to promise to hold on tightly to yooou."

There's a tentative smile when the stylist tilts up her chin. She nods. "I know, I sound… superficial. But when everything gets taken from you, you hold on to what's left, right? If I have to change the looks to keep safe, I will. But I'll do the temporary things first. Dye, cuts, etc." She smiles at the hair cut in the mirror. "It looks great, thank you, Raquelle."
Raquelle flashes a smile and winks before getting to work on the finishing touches of a sheeny spray business on the layery hair-do. "You don't sound superficial. You sound like a little survivor." Then he nods firmly. "Of course it looks great!"

He tsks and rolls his eyes. "Pretty people can pull of fierce hair, so of course it looks great…work that look, okay?" He undoes the cape, shaking it out. "We doing your nails still honey bunches of fab?"

Peyton actually laughs at the last bit. Who says stuff like that? Honey bunches of fab? "Sure. Maybe something that looks good on short nails… isn't dark blue or something supposed to be good on short?" All of her nails are different lengths, the shortest almost down to the quick. "Just … you know, try to make them look somewhat uniform, I guess."

Raquelle chuckles and 'tosses his hair' playfully, his hair isn't that long so…ya know. He just tosses his towels and lays his cape where they need to be and nods towards a nail station, baby blue eyes scanning to see which technicians are in. "Hmmm, we'll do a dark blue with a hint of shimmer." He settles down at a station, starting to get out the things that need to be set up for a decent manicure. "I'll do my best." His own nails are a glossy dark green.

"So enough about me," Peyton says. When has she ever said that in her life? "What about you? Got a hot boyfriend or are you on the market, or what?" she says playfully, her mood cheerier after an hour or so in Raquelle's care.

"Oh sugar lumps, enough about you? The internet and quite a few magazines led me to believe you'd never say something like that." Raquelle teases and sticks out his tongue as he gets to work on the nails, careful with the very short ones, and even using ointments.

"But about me? Do I have a hot boyfriend? Market hmm…good question, I have two little girls, and the fruit of my loins do chase all the really hot ones away." He fakes a pout before just laughing softly. "Oh yes honey, I've got a man."

The fact he has two little girls obviously surprises her — this is 2009, are there still people who have hetero relationships when they're obviously gay? — but she laughs at his comment. "But not a really good one?" she teases him, since he said the girls chase away the 'really good ones.' "Hopefully if he's not good, he's bad in a very good way."

Raquelle smirks and rolls his eyes. "Oh he's very good honey, very very very good - I'd cut somebody over that man." He waggles his eyebrows. "And you're young enough to be my younger sister, I'm not sure I'm allowed to talk about my bad boy." He winks and tenderly handles one of the very short nails. "But when you have kids honey, who have never had mother figures, you really need the ones that are good with kids."

Peyton nods, like she knows anything about having kids. "Well, you must be a great father. And those little girls will grow up looking fabulous, I'm sure," she adds. "I don't think I'll ever have any myself. I don't think I have much in the way of maternal instincts."

"I didn't think I'd have any kid either, then I got really really high and well I was in a band and my drummer is extremely butch. Now she lives in Vegas with her life partner, she didn't want kids ever so ya know, my girl baby girl…and similar stories for both of them." Raquelle coos softly. "So never say never, just say I wouldn't like or I have no plans, safer that way."

The socialite glances down at her newly-blue nails. "Life definitely doesn't go the way I plan it, that's for sure," she says, a little more somberly. "So you're probably right. Make no promises, have no regrets, right? Your girls are lucky to have you though. My birth parents didn't want me. I'm adopted. The parents were good people, but I wasn't really like them in too many ways. Wonder what it'd been like if my father kept me, even though it was a mistake. I don't even know if he knew I existed." She shrugs. Too much serious talk. "I should have paid you before my nails were wet," she says in an afterthought.

Raquelle is quiet for a few moments, blowing on Petyon's nails before putting them under that blue light thing. He is listening though as he cleans up his station. His head tilts to the side as he looks at the woman intently for a few moments. Then he nods slowly. "Make no promises, embrace love." That's his philosophy. "Sometimes, people aren't meant to be parents. And babies are given to those who are meant to be." Then he hmms softly. "Give it some time to dry, we're in no rush to kick you out."

"I don't know if my parents were meant to be parents either, but I wasn't the best kid, so maybe it was my fault." She looks sad at the thought. "Doesn't matter now, I guess. I'll try to be a better person from now on." She smiles a bit. "But no promises." There's a wink at that as she looks down at the neatly manicured nails. "They look 100 times better, even short enough to pass for a boy's."

Raquelle just smiles a bit sadly, nodding his head slowly. "Nobody knows why bad shit happens or tough shit or even just difficult shit." He shrugs. "It just does, but you got through it all, you'll be a better person and you have fabulous nails and hair now so you'll work it." He blinks and shows off his own nails. "Watch it honey."

Her brown eyes look sad, somber, until he shows her his nails, and she laughs. "I like the green," she comments, then gets up. "Thanks for everything. I'll be sure to come back, I promise. You do good work, and you're easy to talk to." She walks to the counter, handing her purse to Mimi. "Can you grab my wallet, my Visa is in there," she tells the receptionist in order to pay.

Raquelle watches Peyton with a concerned look, getting to his feet and following behind the girl before offering a business card, and a pat on her shoulder. He gives Mimi a look and she just goes back to reading her magazine. "It is on the house honey, it is the least we could do to support a girl gettin' back on her feet." He smiles softly. "You ever need anything else, you just call me, you're my Cinderella sweetie."

Peyton's never relied on the kindness of strangers, but rather has ridden on the coattails of others. This is different. "Oh," she says with some surprise, then she throws her arms around Raquelle, careful not to get her new blue polish on his t-shirt. "Thank you," she whispers, more for the offer of support than for the free cut, though she appreciates that too. "But no, I should pay. You're new and all that, you can't be giving out free haircuts or you won't make your rent."

Raquelle laughs when he's hugged, his gift wrapping around and coloring his words in a comforting, reassuring almost coaxing manner…but he's not trying to do it, it is a reflex. "Oh sweetie…you are more than welcome." Then his nose wrinkles. "If you pay? I'm just going to find a way to get the money back to you. This is my gift to give, what I do, I'll make my rent honey…trust me. I'm good, people pay big bucks."

She steps back, smiling and wiping her eyes with the back of her hand. No smudging the mani! "All right. I'll be sure to reciprocate when I can sometime, then. Thank you." She tucks her cap into her purse and gives a wave, heading outside once more, though this time with her chin raised and a bit of her confidence restored.

…Mimi just watches Peyton leave before looking to Raquelle then back to the door and she opens her mouth - then shuts it quickly upon a glare from Raquelle, who blows a kiss after Peyton and heads back to his office yo. All in a day's work.

Unless otherwise stated, the content of this page is licensed under Creative Commons Attribution-ShareAlike 3.0 License