The Boy In the Basement (Completed)

~Just Pitchy~

Riley and I met up around 7 so we would have pa-lenty of time before the gig at 10. She congratulated me first thing for getting a personal invite to the gig by one of the band members themselves, and secondly, for solving the mystery of my secret admirer. Riley decided to wear this pretty black dress and a weird fluffy shrug over that could possibly be made of polar bear. I stuck with a simple band t-shirt and light blue ripped jeans, not really planning on jazzing or pizazzing up for a little concert. It's going to be dark in there anyways.

"Really, Bayley. We have three hours to spare, and you're already ready? You didn't even brush through your hair!" Riley scolded me, pulling a flowery makeup bag out of her purse. I shrug, tossing it over my shoulder. Their's not much I can do- it's too long to put up, too much of a hassle to curl, and it's got a mind of its own anyhow. Nothing I do to it would last a whole hour- I've let it go undisciplined for too long, it's surpassed the point of no return. Bummer.

"Okay, give me the next hour to get ready, and then it's your turn," Riley announced to me, making it official without my consent. I groan, my fingers getting stuck when I try to run them through my hair.

"I'll be in the kitchen," I told Riley, stepping out of the beauty parlor and into my kind of scene.

An hour passed by too quickly, and I was parted from my potato chips before I could finish off the bag. Now there's a tradgedy not even Shakespeare could capture. Against my wishes, Riley used her girly skills do some sort of transformation magic on me. She brushed my hair (A miracle itself) and curled it to give it a soft beachy wave look.

After that portion was done, we moved on to makeup, and every time she did the eyeliner, it felt like she was giving me an eye tattoo. I didn't want to put up a fight, but I did complain here and there. All of the mascara coats Riley insisted upon actually weighed down my eyelids. Besides that, she picked some pretty bold, dark colors to smear over my eyelids, the sort of palette they use in horror movies. Atleast Riley is enjoying this. That makes one of us.

"Aaaand there. I believe I'm finished," She took a step back to get a better view of me, "Oh... you have got to see this." Do I want to? With all the crap you put on me, I'd be surprised if I even recognized myself. I exited my bedroom and steadily moved toward the bathroom. The much anticipated final look. This is too nerve-wracking.

I closed my eyes, turned into the mirror, and drew in some long, comforting breaths. Lets see, what weird sound effect can I say when I take a look at this. How about... Bajooga.

"Bajooga!" I popped open my eyes, coming face to face with my reflection. Wow. Impressive renovations, Riley. I could tell it was still me, but daaaang, not the version of me I'm used to. My wavy hair looked cool in contrast with the black band t-shirt I was wearing, and the dark brown eyeshadow and black eyeliner around my eyes made the green color of my irises pop dramatically.

"What did you say?" Riley called out from the other room. I took one last lingering look in the mirror, and skipped back to my room, happy to have endured the last hour and a half for this. It was worth it.

"I said that I will never doubt you and your gift again. And feel free to attack me with your multi-sized brushes anytime of the day." Riley beamed, especially glad to hear that. I was surprised to hear it come out of my mouth all the same. Definitely something a Bayley-type character woudn't say unless she really meant it. I checked the time out of curiosity.

"Well, what do we want to do for the next hour? I heard it takes around 20 minutes to get there, so what should we do for the next forty minutes to kill time?" I asked her. Riley shook her head, her expression suddenly shifting from proud to secretive.