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Page 5 of Playing for the Dark

Chapter 4

Ellinor

I’m walking into Blair’s salon, Come Sei, which means “as you are” in Italian. I’m smiling to myself because this is one of my favorite places to be. She’s owned her salon for a little over a year now. I support her whenever I can, which is no chore. Who doesn’t love coming to get pampered?

“Ellie! You look hot as fuck, is this all for me?” Blair grabs me up into a hug like we didn’t just see each other at home a couple of hours ago, almost spilling the coffees I brought all over us.

“Hi, babe. Who else would it be for?” I say, grunting from how hard she’s squeezing me. “And you know I like to look moderately put together when you shove your damn phone in my face for after pictures.” I follow her back to her station, flopping down into the chair so she can throw a cape aroundmy neck.

“What are you thinking of doing with your hair today? Are we keeping it the same and just touching the regrowth up like normal, or something fun?” she says, rubbing her hands together like the little menace she is.

My hair is pretty much black all over right now, but I’ve been itching to do something a little wild with it. I’m in here every four weeks for a touch-up anyway. The downfall of having dark-colored hair is that my natural hair is lighter.

“What do you think about the front one-side platinum look?” Blair says while pulling her phone out to pull up a picture of what she’s thinking.

Turning her phone around to show me, I say, “Let’s do it. I’m ready for some change.”

“Yay! I’ll be right back,” she says, turning around before the last words come out of her mouth. She’s so adorable when she’s eager and in the zone.

She runs back to do whatever magic she does, mixing up all the colors and powders to get my hair to what I want.

I love that she found her passion early in life and is living out her dream of owning her own salon. I couldn’t imagine doing this right now at the age of twenty-four. I don’t want to be tied down to anything this permanent, but that’s just me.

Blair and I worked together at the bar for a couple of months. She was just trying to make enough money to open her salon.

I’ve been at Shenanigans for a little over three years now. I’ve missed her working with me, but we never lost contact. I still don’t understand why she wouldn’t take the money her family offered to her to open her salon. I guess she wanted to do it all on her own, which is exactly what she did. It just took her a little longer. It seems like every time I come in, she’s hired another new face to work in one of the cute-ass stations. I couldn’t be more proud of her.

1 She starts on the left side. I’m guessing that’s where the blonde will be. While she does her thing, I do mine, connecting the the Bluetooth for the salon’s speakers. I’m always the music girly when I’m here. As Blair works and the music plays, I zone out into my thoughts.

Six months ago, we decided to make the jump and move in together. Which says a lot because I don’t put up with people for long periods. I need my space, but Blair is the perfect roommate. She’s not too overbearing, and we work opposite schedules most of the time.

We moved into our cute little apartment and haven’t looked back. It took me until almost twenty-four to move out, but not because I wanted to stay with my parents.

My mom received a diagnosis of Amyotrophic Lateral Sclerosis. Remember the ice bucket challenge? Yeah, that’s the disease we were all raising moneyfor. I still remember her finally getting the diagnosis after about six months of unexplainable falling, and then eventually she wasn’t able to get up on her own after the falls.

We found her one day in the backyard on the ground crawling away from the plants she was watering. She made it as far as she could, dragging her legs behind her, but eventually gave up; the sobbing coming from the backyard was what finally alerted my dad and me.

As her daughter, watching her be sick was hard enough, but having to watch as my dad’s soul broke off shard by shard with each new muscle atrophy was something that I never could’ve prepared myself for, or my younger sister, Lyla.

From the outside, everyone thought they were the epitome of the perfect love. But from the inside, we knew the true state of my mom’s severe mental instability.

After three years of being a caretaker for someone who wouldn’t even care for Lyla and me, I was so numb and closed off that I didn’t do anything besides help with her and work to help my dad with the bills. We had a nurse who came in a couple of times a week; they would change her feeding tube and help us bathe her. I was living for everyone else while watching the one person I should have been closest with gradually die. The resentment I felt then—and still do—is so debilitating some days, and others, I fight with feeling relieved that she’s gone and can’t cause me any more pain.

You never get over the death of a parent, but watching her go through that tore something from me that I will never get back. I still beat myself up for resenting her, and therapy is helping, but it’s a long battle I don’t know if I’ll ever be able to come to terms with.

I should be graduating and working toward owning a club one day, which I so badly want, but that dream was put on the back burner. By moving out, I am finally starting to find myself again.Fuck, enough of the sad shit.

Before I know it, Blair has my hair washed out and styled, dragging me to the little area where she takes her after-pictures for her socials. A full ten minutes later, we’re done.

“Do you have anything to do tonight? I got VIP tickets for a new club, and it sounds right up your alley.” She has a grin on her face that should probably scare me, but I’m always down to go out and have some fun.

“Nope. Not a plan in sight on this Saturday night.”

She squeals. “Great! Let me clean and lock up real quick. I’ll meet you back home.”

1. PARANOID - Church Atlantic

Chapter 5




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