john frieda what--? {xerxes}

[CLARISSA RAMONE]

Bashful was none too pleased that she’d invited Xerxes back to her dorm. In fact, he was flat-out throwing a tantrum. Telling her how she hardly knew Xerxes, how they’d just met, how this was dangerous, etc, etc. It was getting harder to ignore him, actually. She kept reassuring him that it was fine. They went to the same school and he was nice so he had to be a good person. He had to be somebody she could trust. If Clarissa could trust him, Bashful could. But you, my dear, trust everybody. It’s one of your little faults, remember?

[/i] Clarissa hated Bashful for bringing this up and so she determinedly shut him up, locking him in the back of her mind until he’d calmed down (this of course only upset him more).

“It’s this one,” she said, stopping in front of her door. Hearing Xerxes talk had been interesting and sudden for she’d been expecting more writing. Bashful had glared at Xerxes for this because it had only intrigued Clarissa further which meant no chance in hell that she’d go shopping now. Clarissa entered the room, glad to see to have cleaned recently. She didn’t do it nearly as much as she used to now that Bashful was around so instead of being spotless, it was what any other teenager’s dorm would look like. (That wasn’t true. Her dorm was still much cleaner than any other teenager’s). Clarissa led the way to the bathroom, flicking on the light. She still hadn’t grown used to all the hair products on the counter.

“Well, uhm… yeah.” She smiled at Xerxes, a bit embarrassed. “This is pretty much what I’ve got. There may also be some stuff under the counter.” Clarissa wouldn’t have been surprised if Bashful was hiding fifty more bottles of hairspray and… and other… hair… stuff in the cupboard.
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[XERXES HARRISBURG]

Xerxes followed the girl to one of the upperclassmen dorms, inhaling deeply as she led him down the hallway. Dude. This was totally like, so much nicer than his dorm. And he was totally a senior, too. In a senior dorm. But this dorm was like, new. It smelled like paint. And there were like, chandelier things on the ceiling where his dorm had bare lightbulbs. Jeez. He totally wanted to move in here. Except that this was a girls dorm, and ugh, that would totally not help the fact that everyone thought he was a girl already. Because he totally wasn’t one. Nope.

“It’s this one.

Xerxes peered into the girl’s room, feeling self-conscious, as if he were barging into someone else’s house. Which he totally was, except it was a dorm. A…a clean dorm. A really freakin’ clean dorm.

Xerxes’ jaw dropped as he entered. “Dude,” he said, reaching out a hand to touch the spotless wall. “This is clean.” He realized his mistake a few seconds later. “Oh, sorry. Uh, girl. Dude-girl.” He made his way to the bathroom behind her, still sniffing. This whole freaking room smelled like…clean. Was that even a smell? It totally was. There was like, no other way to describe this. Her room was clean. So, so clean.

“Well, uhm… yeah.” She smiled at Xerxes, a bit embarrassed. “This is pretty much what I’ve got. There may also be some stuff under the counter.”

Xerxes nodded, rifling through her piles. “You’ve got like, a good selection here,” he remarked, humming quietly to himself as he skimmed each of the labels. This was like, his element. He was totally comfortable here. “PHYTO Phytovolume Actif Volumizer Spray with Keratin Amino Acids, Sebastian Professional Re-Shaper, Nexxus Comb Thru Natural Hold Design and Finishing Mist…” He nodded approvingly. “Alright. I can work with this.” He could totally work with anything, really. But this was good. “So what look are you going for, exactly?”

[CLARISSA RAMONE]

“Uh—oh.” She blushed, laughing a little. “I’m kind of a neat freak,” she admitted, glancing back into her room from the bathroom. “I mean. Not really. I just clean when I’m not doing anything which is often.” Clarissa snapped her mouth shut. Ugh! She didn’t want him to know she was all bad with socializing and cleaned instead of went to parties. That was embarrassing. Jeez, she’d hardly changed since Bashful. She waved a dismissive hand. “Dude. Dude-girl. Whichever.” She didn’t mind, really. So long as he didn’t go calling her Claire or anything, she was happy.

Looking back to the selection of cans on the counter, she gave him a curious look. “Really?” It probably would’ve been a good idea to start paying attention to what she was buying. Bashful just told her what to grab. He’d promised to keep them relatively cheap so she could trust buying something without looking at it or the price. What was Xerxes even saying? Her eyebrows slowly came together in confusion. Phyto and Keratin and Nexxus. What did any of that mean? “You really know your stuff,” she commented, grinning. He was way more knowledgeable about this than she was with anything.

Clarissa played with her hair, fluffing it or whatever. Did you know what she wanted? Not really… Clarissa usually just let Bashful take care of it each morning. “Uhm… er.” She hated that she was stammering, so finally, she just resolved to admit that she had no idea what she was going for. “I actually, uh… have no idea. Volume… I guess?” Clarissa paused, figuring she at least knew what that meant. “I’ve always liked curls.” She added, hoping that would help.

[XERXES HARRISBURG]

Xerxes was totally like, in his element right here. It was like he was a magnet, hanging out with all the magnets he was supposed to be hanging out with, that were attracting him and stuff. It was weird that those magnets happened to be hair supplies but you know what, whatever. He was way too happy among the hair products right now to have his daily mid-life crisis about his purpose in life and stuff. Hair was simple. Hair made sense. Hair did what Xerxes wanted hair to do. Hair was a reliable constant, in a life that was always spinning hectically all over the place.

“Uh—oh.” She blushed, laughing a little. “I’m kind of a neat freak,” she admitted, glancing back into her room from the bathroom. “I mean. Not really. I just clean when I’m not doing anything which is often.”

Xerxes shrugged, laughing slightly. “I’m totally not. I’m like, the messiest around. You should see like, my closet.” He shook his head as he pictured it: an enormous pile of hairspray cans and crumpled clothing that spilled out halfway across the room when he opened the door. “I always just forget to like, clean it up, you know? Get distracted by stuff. Like, doing my hair. And picking out my outfit and like, stuff.” Why was he talking so much to her? She obviously, like, wouldn’t care. Nobody cared about Xerxes’ like, hair stuff. All his friends at school thought his hair thing was the weirdest thing ever, and this girl…well, could he consider her a friend? Yet? Xerxes didn’t have a lot of friends who were girls, mostly owing to the fact that he was like, really really bad at talking to them and stuff.

“You really know your stuff.”

”Thanks.” Xerxes blushed: it was a genuine compliment, and it snaked its way into his heart and warmed it to bursting. He loved being complimented on his knowledge about hair.

“I actually, uh… have no idea. Volume… I guess?” Clarissa paused, figuring she at least knew what that meant. “I’ve always liked curls.”

”Volume. And curls. Alright.” The gears of Xerxes’ hairstylist’s mind began to churn, and within seconds he had drawn up a rough outline of a hairstyle. ”What would you think,” he said carefully, after a pause as he translated the image in his mind into words, ”if we took a little length off of it, like, say, threeish inches? And then like, curled it, and bobbed it up slightly, with a little shine?” He glanced over her hair, assuring himself that this would be workable. ”And when’s the last time someone did your hair?” He just needed to make sure he wasn’t like, messing up a new perm or whatever. “I can do your makeup to match it too,” he added, in case she needed convincing.

[CLARISSA RAMONE]

Clarissa laughed. “I used to be like that.” She paused, glancing back to the clean room. “Believe it or not. I just got, uhm… I sort of became a hermit at some point. I didn’t have much to do so I just cleaned.” She shrugged, wondering why she’d danced around the subject of her parents. It wasn’t something she liked bringing up in conversations. Her parents were on vacation, so what? At least she had them. She’d realized how she sounded quite a long time ago. Selfish. So, she’d stopped bringing them up, blaming her shyness on other things. Where had it even come from? Whatever! That wasn’t the point right now.

Clarissa smiled, glad to see that he appreciated her compliment. Some people acted all high and mighty, as if compliments came to them all the time. They stopped appreciating it. “Of course.” Clarissa listened carefully as he began to work out what could be done to her hair. She had to pay attention or else she wouldn’t know what she was agreeing to. A few inches off sounded fine; her hair was getting a bit troublesome. Curls which was what she’d wanted and… bobbed. Clarissa was quite sure she’d seen girls with bobs and it certainly seemed like they’d had volume. And shiny hair was perfect. Clarissa nodded enthusiastically. “That sounds perfect!”

Clarissa thought about it. She hadn’t had anything serious done lately. “Not recently. And it’s usually only ever a trim.” She didn’t like the idea of spending money on things like perms or highlights. Clarissa saved money for important things like food and… well, in Bashful’s opinion, clothes and jewelry. … She’d have to talk to him about that. “Yeah, yeah. That would be neat.” Clarissa was starting to feel giddy. She loved being dolled up. It had only bothered her with Becky because it always took her by surprise. At least this time she was getting her own say in the matter. “Thank you. By the way.”

[XERXES HARRISBURG]

Xerxes glanced over the girl, Clarissa’s, hair. Alright. It was a good enough length. Xerxes could work with it. He reached over to his shelf of cans, selecting an unopened, purple bottle of spray-on conditioner. He felt around on the ground for his clean towel pile, flicking one upwards with his foot and catching it in his left hand. Niiiiice. He was like, totally in his element now. And he knew that this girl wasn’t scary, though her eye contact still sent the chills shooting down his spine every so often. But his nerves were calming. His mind was learning to trust her. And also, he totally got to do her hair. And hair was the best thing in the world. Seriously.

“I used to be like that.” She paused, glancing back to the clean room. “Believe it or not. I just got, uhm… I sort of became a hermit at some point. I didn’t have much to do so I just cleaned.”

Xerxes selected a long, black comb from his desk and tugged it through her hair, grinning as each like, tangle thing neatly subsided to smootheness. Combing hair was like, one of the coolest parts of hairstyling. So satisfying, like polishing a like, dish or something. Hermit. His fingers like, stumbled over the comb, but he recovered himself quickly. ”I…yeah,” he said, feeling his throat clog up like it always did not when he was getting an Episode or anything, but when every sense in his body and brain was telling him to run and hide and like, protect himself from this like, evil person who was totally going to get him or whatever. ”I just…” He blushed brightly, but hoped Clarissa couldn’t see it under the heavy layers of makeup. ”I guess that was hair for me, you know? Like…” God, he totally wasn’t sure how to explain this. ”Like when everyone else would be like, Idunno, partying or something, and I’d just be here in my dorm like, with nothing to do. I’d mess around with my hair, die it different colors…because my hair wasn’t scary or anything, you know?” He bit his lip sheepishly, embarrassed. That probably sounded like, really stupid. She’d probably laugh at him. Hair isn’t scary or anything. He totally sounded like some kind of insane person or something.

Once he’d sufficiently removed the tangles, he was pretty sure, at least, he twirled her fringe area together between his fingers with his right hand, while his left rifled through the pocket of his jeans and removed a handful of clips. These he nimbly sectioned off across her head, pinning her hair up and isolating the like, fringe part. Aw man. This was totally going to look so good.

“Thank you. By the way.”

Xerxes smiled slightly as he began to separate the hair into one and a half inch sections. ”Thank you, actually, uh, for letting me, you know, do this.” He shrugged sheepishly again. ”Hairstyling is the only thing that like…Idunno, makes sense, I guess.”

[CLARISSA RAMONE]

Clarissa loved when people played with her hair. It gave her tingles and made her feel special because if they wanted to play with her hair, she must've had some nice hair. So, having her hair done was even better. Whether it was after a haircut or a new style, it meant change. Change used to scare her. It wasn't so bad anymore.

Clarissa listened carefully, wondering if there was actually somebody out there who maybe understood what cleaning meant to her. Cleaning to her was like retail therapy to somebody else. Or, in this case, like hair for Xerxes. And that was awesome. Why hadn't she turned to something neat like hair? Why cleaning?

She laughed, sounding truly delighted. "Yes, exactly!" She almost shook her head before remembering it was being brushed so instead, she smiled. "God, finally," she sighed, "I thought I'd never meet somebody who got that." Doing something you understood and loved wasn't scary. It was comforting and familiar and she could handle it. If it wasn't cleaning, she didn't want to try it.

"Basically, hair for you was like me with cleaning. It was something I knew. It wasn't like I had to worry what other people were thinking." It was why she'd found Becky so scary sometimes, being forced into social situations had been something she couldn't handle. "The world's a scary place. I mean, New York is terrifying and I've lived here my whole life."

Clarissa smiled and shrugged carefully. "No problem. My hair was getting boring. I definitely needed something new." It was a win-win, really. He was able do something he liked and she was getting her hair done for free. Plus, she'd made a new friend and (even better) he totally got her.

---

notes; i'm totally sorry this is so late. D: we don't have to continue if you don't want since piglet is all awakened and stuff now. again, sorry! <3

[XERXES HARRISBURG]

Okay, time for the best part. Seriously. Xerxes was kind of obsessed with the part of hairstyling when he got to use like, really hot machines. Okay, not like that. But he just thought curling irons were the coolest things ever, and kind of wished he could use them on his hair, except that his hair was basically the straightest thing in the universe and wouldn’t curl even if you took millions of curling irons and ironed it millions of times with each of them. But with hair that curled, curling irons were like, super fun. Xerxes loved the way they could transform someone’s hair from some like, boring straight thing into a really awesome pretty glimmery thing. It was just the best feeling, knowing that you actually had control over something. There was like, so little he had control over these days.

"Yes, exactly!" She almost shook her head before remembering it was being brushed so instead, she smiled. "God, finally," she sighed, "I thought I'd never meet somebody who got that."

Xerxes grinned, beginning to curl Clarissa’s hair with the miniature curling iron he always carried around in his back pocket. ”I never thought, like, I’d meet someone who…you know, got that. I mean, people like me, well…like us,” he shrugged shyly “don’t really ever show it, usually. I mean, that we are the way we are. People just…like, think I’m a shy person, I guess. So it’s just, you never…” What was he even saying anyway? Xerxes was so stupid. If He were here, He’d be laughing right now. Well, laughing and murdering people with the really hot piece of metal that Xerxes was holding.

"Basically, hair for you was like me with cleaning. It was something I knew. It wasn't like I had to worry what other people were thinking."

Xerxes grinned as another like, lock of hair sizzled against the metal. ”I…know what you mean. It’s like…it’s just something you do, you know? Not for other people, or to make other people happy, or to like, keep them from killing you, or whatever, just…you do it for you. You know?” He probably still wasn’t making any sense. When did he like, ever make sense? He probably just needed to stop talking before this girl got annoyed and left.

"The world's a scary place. I mean, New York is terrifying and I've lived here my whole life."

”So scary,” Xerxes agreed. Now that was something that he could totally and without a doubt agree with. ”Like, the cars. What if one of them just ran into you? What if the driver wasn’t paying attention and just ran into you? Or what if a building collapsed on you? Or what if the street below you just collapsed and you fell through and then got run over by a subway? Or what if you accidentally turned onto Rapist Street and all the people around you were rapists? Oh, sorry.” He pulled a crackling lock of hair off of the curling iron. His teeth chattered as he began to roll a new one. ”I just wish…” His voice trailed off. What did he even wish? If like, a genie came down now and offered him one wish to improve his life, what exactly would he wish for? Was there anything he could wish for that would like, make his life any better? It seemed like there were too many really bad things in the world for one single wish to do any good, you know? ”I wish that one day there could be this big like, party thing, not like a wild party, but you know, a nice dinner party, where everyone in the world got together, and just told everyone all their secrets. So everyone else in the world would know each other like, so so well. And nobody would have to hide anymore. Or like, have to wonder about anyone else. Because everyone would just know, you know?”

"No problem. My hair was getting boring. I definitely needed something new."

Xerxes nodded. ”Awesome thing about hair, you know. It can be whatever you want it to be. You know, it’s not just always the same thing.” He grimaced. ”Except for this one girl’s hair I tried to curl for like, prom or whatever, back in high school. That would literally not move. But otherwise, yeah.” God, he’d hated that girl’s hair. Like, so much.

[CLARISSA RAMONE]

Clarissa wished she had a mirror. It was mostly that she was really curious as to how Xerxes was styling her hair. Of course, she had no idea. Clarissa wasn’t the one who bought the hairsprays and the hair styling tools. She let Bashful take care of that, only stepping in when he grabbed one that was beyond expensive. Clarissa smiled, “it does seem pretty rare to come across people like us. I feel like I only ever know outgoing partiers, which is weird, seeing as I’m… not.” She shrugged a little. “I get what you’re saying.” She said once he’d quieted, her tone reassuring, as if it needed to be. She wasn’t sure it needed to be.

“It’s definitely a lot less stressful. I can’t imagine doing something for somebody else, like to please others. It’s my thing.” Did that make her sound selfish? Before she had much time to think on it, Xerxes was onto the next topic. Clarissa blinked a couple of times before trying to shake the thought out of her head. She had never considered being run over by a car, or buried in rubble – it made her cringe. “I… never thought of it as… that bad.” She said slowly, trying even now to stop thinking about it. As if she wasn’t scared enough of New York as is! Smiling rather timidly, she shrugged again. “I suppose it doesn’t hurt to consider the worst. At least you’re prepared that way.” Clarissa waited patiently for him to continue, to figure out what he wanted to say.

Clarissa almost cut in, wondering why in the world a big party would help. He continued before she could ask, though, and she was glad. He was making perfect sense. Her first thought, a stupid obvious sort of one, was how there could ever be that much food or room for all the people on Earth at one time. Once she had ignored that question (for it was kind of ruining the whole point), she hummed. “Hmm, that would be nice. Along with that, I feel like people wouldn’t… be mean. Wait. There wouldn’t be bullies, I think.” She paused ,trying to figure out what she meant. “I guess what I’m trying to say is that with everybody’s secrets out, why would you want to hurt someone?” She stopped again, laughing a bit awkwardly. “I’m not making sense.”

Clarissa understood now how some people felt like an entirely new person when they got their hair done. It was easy to see how something different – curls or pinned up locks – could make everything different. Besides, new hair usually meant new compliments and compliments were always nice. “Right, exactly. Though… well, I think it’s a bit crazy when people go from a simple color to something outrageous like pink. I’ll never get that.” Clarissa laughed, imagining what a nightmare that must have been. “That sounds awful.”

[XERXES HARRISBURG]

Xerxes pulled the curling iron gently from Clarissa’s hair, letting the final curl bounce softly across her shoulder. Yes. Perfect. Seeing the full head of glistening curls always gave Xerxes that tingling sensation in his stomach, like he was cradling a baby he’d just given birth to. Except that he totally wasn’t a girl, at all, despite how tight his jeans were. He was totally a dude. Not that he was dissing girls. He just wasn’t one. Nope. Not at all.

But anyways, now came his favorite part: the hairspray. Yes. There was seriously nothing in the world Xerxes loved more than hairspray, except for like, maybe food and water and the stuff that kept him alive. He grasped the bottle he’d selected from her stash, grinning as he rolled the cool metal between his fingers. His hands always felt empty without scissors or a bottle of hairspray in them. Was that weird? That was probably weird. Okay, well, whatever, dude. He pressed the like, button thing, and grinned as the mist enveloped her hair and the sharp smell stung his nostrils. God, he loved hair products.

“It does seem pretty rare to come across people like us. I feel like I only ever know outgoing partiers, which is weird, seeing as I’m… not.” She shrugged a little. “I get what you’re saying.”

”Oh God, parties.” Xerxes shook his head, talking absentmindedly as he tended to her hair. Nothing had ever confused him more than parties, except for like, some math problems. ”I can’t do those. At all. I go to some with my friends occasionally, but I always like…leave.” He shuddered at the memories that felt so close he could smell them, the alcohol, the steam, the burning things, the screams, the sweat. ”Too many people. Just think…all the things that could happen. It’s too scary. I just like…” What did he like? He shrugged. ”Nice, small things. With not very many people. Like…like this.”He gestured to their surroundings. ”Just being here with you. I’m fine with that. That’s, you know, that’s cool. I know you’re not going to like, rape me, or anything.” Of course not. This little girl was probably the least scary person he’d ever been around except for like, maybe three or four others. He liked being around people who weren’t scary. It was a nice break.

“I suppose it doesn’t hurt to consider the worst. At least you’re prepared that way.”

Xerxes allowed that like, perspective thing to float in his head for a few minutes. ”Wow, you’re totally right,” he replied. He’d totally never thought about it that way before. Man, he really was super prepared, wasn’t he? ”I could totally be a boy scout. That’s their motto, right? Except I’m not a boy. But yeah.” Well, whatever. He felt a chuckle escape his lips. Wow, he couldn’t even remember the last time he’d laughed. He was usually too scared to laugh.

“Hmm, that would be nice. Along with that, I feel like people wouldn’t… be mean. Wait. There wouldn’t be bullies, I think.” She paused ,trying to figure out what she meant. “I guess what I’m trying to say is that with everybody’s secrets out, why would you want to hurt someone?” She stopped again, laughing a bit awkwardly. “I’m not making sense.”

”No! I mean, of course you are. That’s like, exactly what I mean. Like, I mean, if you were a bully, and then you heard everyone’s secrets would you like, want to bully them? I totally wouldn’t. I would probably just want to hug them. If they all had all the like…well, the secrets that I do.” Did that sound creepy? That had probably sounded creepy. Oh well.

“Right, exactly. Though… well, I think it’s a bit crazy when people go from a simple color to something outrageous like pink. I’ll never get that.”

”It’s all about control.” Xerxes shrugged. He didn’t know very much about very many things, but this was one thing that he totally knew a lot about. With certainty. ”And being different. Because, you know, feeling like nobody notices you and you’re just like, one organism in a crowd or whatever. And you can’t control who you are, or what people think of you. And I always thought that hair was like…a way to do that, you know?” Wow, he probably sounded like some kind of like, crazy psychologist or something. He hoped she wasn’t like, getting annoyed by all his talking. This was probably the most talking he’d like, ever done in such a short period of time. Did people get annoyed when you talked too much? He’d like, never had that problem before. ”But you can decide who you are, with hair coloring, you know? And only you get to pick, not anybody else. Nobody else can…control it, you know?”