As I was getting myself ready for my first night at bar, my reflection in the mirror felt almost unrecognizable. It had been quite awhile since I'd had the energy to put a decent amount of effort into my appearance. I wasn't sure whether it was meant to be an interview, audition of sorts, or if Leo had already pulled some strings to get me in—which was the energy he had emitted while reminding me all day. He never really made it clear though.
"Hey, Leo?" I shouted from the bathroom. I was desperately trying to settle on a hairstyle. Nothing felt right, though.
I wanted to look right; I wasn't entirely sure I knew what right meant. I had to be presentable, and presented well. I wanted to look like I fit into the environment, while also looking professional enough to portray that I am, in fact, a grown up who is ready to take her job seriously.
After hours of consideration, and turning my closet upside down, I settled on simplicity; tight black jeans and a fitted button down. The top few buttons were undone, just barely revealing the tank top I had on underneath. A thin black choker holding a crystal charm enveloped my neck, and my lips were painted in crimson.
After a few moments, I heard light pattering footsteps increasingly getting louder, until I saw Leo's tall figure inch up to the corner of the mirror. We locked eyes in the mirror as he got closer.
"I can't figure out what to do with my hair," I stammered. Before I knew it, he was standing right behind me. The company of his body heat so close to me almost took my breath away. His eyes still hadn't separated from my reflection. "Do the girls have to wear their hair up?"
He gently pulled my hair back in a low ponytail, delicately brushing his fingers along my neck. My heartbeat instantly started racing. I couldn't move a muscle. "Like this?" he asked softly. His deep serene voice sent shivers up and down my spine.
I started to open my mouth, but I couldn't make any words. I couldn't focus on anything but Leo, nearly pressed up against me, with all of my hair in his hands, and his lips just inches from my ear.
Why is there so much tension?
"I think it looks really nice down," he said. He let go of his handfuls of hair, letting each strand fall onto my shoulders like a black waterfall.
I broke out of my trance and turned my head to him directly. "I'm allowed to?"
Leo smirked.
"Let me know when you're ready," he replied.
"Wait wait wait wait!" I exclaimed, and I grabbed his arm before he could pull away. "It's just an interview, right? Cause I've never worked as—"
"Hey," he interrupted. We locked eyes and I instinctively froze. "I know. You have nothing to worry about."
I felt reassured, but I didn't want to let go of his arm, as strange as it sounds. It gave me an extra layer of comfort. Safety, even. His hand was hovering just over my waist, just a small shift away from touching.
I slowly released him from my grip. He left the bathroom after reminding me one last time that I'll be fine, and I quietly closed the door. I leaned over counter and looked directly at myself in the mirror. No noticeable evidence of anxiety, thanks to the layers of makeup concealing the dark circles that were hanging under my eyes and the worry wrinkles between my eyebrows that are only noticeable to me, but bothersome enough to cover. I took a deep breath, gathered my makeup, and scurried back to my room.
I still had an hour to kill before I had to head out to the bar. I started nervously pacing down the hallway with no destination.
some smooth transition
