Page 64 of The Money Shot
Liam
The fluorescent sign over the salon blinked in bright pink letters:The Mane Attraction.It was wedged between a laundromat and a pawn shop, and the entire place looked like it hadn’t changed since 1983. Pictures of hairstyles, the kind you’d find on VHS covers, filled the windows, and as Nessa opened the door, the faint smell of hairspray wafted out.
“C’mon, sweetie,” Nessa said, nudging me inside. “We’re here for your own good. Even if Jack isn’t in to you, and I think he is, you need to look fierce for your fans.”
The moment we walked in, a woman in a nearly see-through blouse and jeans so tight they had to be painted on sprang up from behind the counter. Her teased hair looked like a helmet, and her eyeliner could cut glass. She shrieked, “Nessa, baby!” and launched herself forward like a missile.
“Moira, keep it together!” Nessa said, laughing as she braced for impact.
The two collided in a hug that looked more like a wrestling match. Moira squeezed Nessa like she was trying to pop her, then backed out of the embrace and turned her eyes on me.
Her gaze started at my face, flicked to my chest, then traveled lower in a way that made me instinctively want to cross my hands over my crotch. “And who is this tall drink of cannoli cream?”
Before I could respond—or throw myself out the nearest window—Nessa clapped her hands on Moira’s shoulders. “Moira, focus. This is Liam. He’s gay.”
Moira’s eyes widened, and she made a noise like a deflating balloon. “He’s gay? Oh my God. Like, for real?” Her jaw dropped. “Ohhhh, you’re that Liam! From the videos!”
My stomach flipped. “You’ve seen them too?” I croaked.
Moira blinked a few times, her face flushing. “Uh…” she started, and then blurted, “I’m a subscriber! Big fan, by the way.”
Heat shot up my neck, and I took a step back, ready to bolt. If I ran fast enough, maybe I could escape before these two women announced my FantasyFans career to the entire borough.
Before I could make my escape, a voice oozed across the room like melted butter. “Well, well, well… what have we here?”
An older woman sauntered into view, wearing a floor-length, bright green kimono and neon-pink lipstick. She piled her bleached-blonde hair high in a bun so tight I wondered if she could still blink. Her name tag read Lola.
Lola looked me up and down like I was the dessert special at an all-you-can-eat buffet. “Ladies,” she purred, “why didn’t you tell me you were bringing me such a delicious little lamb today?”
“This is Liam,” Moira said, still staring at me like she’d won the lottery. “And he’s gay.” She shot a pointed look at Lola.
“Gay? Hmmm, shame for me, but great for the world,” Lola drawled, ignoring Moira’s warning. She looped her arm through mine before I could protest. Her perfume—something floral and heady—enveloped me as she leaned closer. “And this lamb is in desperate need of a makeover. Those eyebrows are criminal.”
Nessa snorted. “Told you, Liam. Caterpillars.”
Lola gasped dramatically and pulled me toward the back of the salon. “Honey, you’re not just getting a makeover—you’re getting a resurrection. Don’t you worry. Mama Lola’s got you covered.”
I looked back at Nessa and Moira for help, but they just grinned and waved like proud parents. “Have fun!” Nessa called, as Lola tugged me through a beaded curtain into what I could only assume was my doom.
Lola led me through the salon, her arm still looped around mine like I was her prized trophy. I stumbled beside her, barely registering the gaudy decor: walls painted a shade of pink so bright it could cause retinal damage, gold-framed mirrors on every available surface, and clusters of blue-haired ladies seated under vintage hair dryers. They glanced up as we passed, their expressions ranging from curious to outright amused.
“Isn’t he just the cutest thing?” Lola crooned, showing me around like a prize pig at the county fair.
Nessa and Moira trailed behind us, giggling and whispering like a pair of middle schoolers. I shot them a pleading look, but they just smirked and kept walking.
We stopped in front of a door labeledThe Sanctuary of Beauty. Lola pushed it open with a flourish, revealing a room that looked like the set of a bad spa commercial. A massage table sat in the center, draped with a leopard-print sheet, and the walls were plastered with posters of serene women getting mud masks.
“Welcome to my domain,” Lola said, gesturing dramatically.
Before I could respond, Nessa stepped forward, grinning like a cat that had cornered a mouse. “Liam here makes sexy videos,” she said, giving me a wink. “You know, FantasyFans. The good stuff.”
Lola’s eyes lit up like Christmas had come early. “Oh, really?” she said, turning to me with a predatory grin. “Well, honey,you’ve come to the right place. We’ll have you looking so good, people will throw money at you.”
“Oh, they already do,” Moira chimed in, grinning. “But he needs the full treatment. Waxing, a facial, and don’t you think he’s a little too pale?”
“A spray tan,” Nessa added, nodding sagely. “And manscaping. Desperate manscaping. He’s way too bushy down there.”
My stomach dropped into my shoes. “Can we not talk about this like I’m not standing right here?”