A Checklist Guide To Mr. Perfect (WIP)

Chapter 3

"People do fall in love. People do belong to each other because that's the only chance that anyone's got for true happiness." -Breakfast at Tiffany's

I woke up the next morning feeling like a gremlin had taken up residence in my skull, tap-dancing on my brain cells. The blinding sunlight streaming through the curtains was not helping my hangover situation.

As I groaned and forced myself out of bed, I heard the faint sound of my parents getting ready for work downstairs. Great, just what I needed-parental supervision, while my brain felt like it was going to fall out.

Putting on my best fake smile, I stumbled downstairs to bid them farewell. "Morning, Mom, Dad," I said, hoping my attempt at cheerfulness didn't come off as too forced.

"Morning, sweetheart," Mom greeted me with a knowing look in her eye. "Rough night?"

I chuckled nervously, trying to play it cool. "Oh, you know, just a late study session with Zyon. Nothing out of the ordinary."

Dad raised an eyebrow, but thankfully, he didn't press the issue. "Well, just make sure you're ready for school on Monday. We don't want any more late-night shenanigans affecting your grades."

I nodded, making a mental note to avoid alcohol like the plague. After bidding my parents goodbye, I retreated back to my room to face my hangover and contemplate the disaster that was my love life.

With nothing better to do, I decided to browse on a bit of light social media stalking. Armed with my phone and a strong cup of coffee, I delved into the depths of Holden's Instagram feed. And that's when I stumbled upon it-the shocking revelation that shattered my fragile self-esteem into a million tiny pieces.

Holden's type was the complete opposite of me.

Scrolling through his feed, I couldn't help but notice a pattern-blonde, cheerleader types with curves in all the right places, flashing million-dollar smiles and barely-there clothing.

My heart sank as I realized that I was about as far from his type as humanly possible. Brunette? Check. Dorky? Double check. It was like trying to fit a square peg into a round hole, and I was definitely feeling the pinch.

I immediately reached out to my lifeline-Zyon. Dialing his number, I waited anxiously for him to pick up.

"Yo, Janey! What's up?"

Zyon's voice sounded cheerful on the other end of the line, a stark contrast to my inner turmoil.

"Zyon, I need your help,"

I blurted out, feeling the weight of the world pressing down on my shoulders.

"Slow down there, turbo. What's going on?"

Zyon's concern was palpable

"It's Holden! He's into blondes, cheerleaders. The exact opposite of me! I need to change, asap!"

Zyon was silent for a moment before he spoke, his voice soft and reassuring.

"Jane, you don't have to change who you are to impress some guy. You're amazing just the way you are, and anyone who can't see that isn't worth your time."

I knew he was right, but the sting of rejection still lingered. "I know, but... what if I could be his type? What if I could finally catch his eye?"

Zyon sighed, his exasperation evident even over the phone.

"Fine, if you're set on this ridiculous plan, I'll help you. But just know that I think you're making a huge mistake."

Grateful for support, I arranged for Zyon to come over later that afternoon to assist me in my transformation.

Armed with a box of hair dye and a determination bordering on insanity, I set out to become Holden's dream girl.

When Zyon arrived, we wasted no time in getting down to business.

"Alright, I'm here to help you become a dumb blonde." Zyon said once he arrived.

"At least I'll be dumb and Holdens type." I said desperately. Zyon rolled his eyes, hesitating to feed my delusions. With gloves and a makeshift salon, we set up in my bathroom. We were ready to tackle the task of turning me into a blonde bombshell.

"Alright, Janey, you ready for this?" Zyon asked, his eyes twinkling with mischief as he brandished the hair dye like a weapon of mass destruction.

"As ready as I'll ever be," I replied, preparing myself for the disaster that awaited me.

And so, the transformation began.

With Zyon's expert guidance (and a fair amount of trial and error), we set to work, slathering my hair in bleach and praying to the hair gods that I wouldn't end up looking like a walking disaster. The smell of chemicals filled the air as we worked, our laughter mingling with the sound of my hair sizzling under the harsh bleach.

After what felt like an eternity, we rinsed out the bleach and applied the toner, crossing our fingers and toes in the hopes that it would miraculously transform me into the blonde bombshell of Holden's dreams.

As we waited for the final results, Zyon peered at me through the mirror, a mischievous grin playing on his lips. "Well, Janey, I gotta say, you definitely pull off the mad scientist look."

I rolled my eyes, resisting the urge to smack him with the nearest hairbrush. "Thanks, Zyon. Your words are like a ray of sunshine."

"I still don't get why you need to change your hair, though. You've always been against hair dye." Zyon said. He was looking at both of our reflections in the mirror.

"It's time I try something new anyway. Besides, this is what Holden likes, and I need him to like me and ask me to prom."

"Don't you think you deserve someone who likes you for you?" He said, sounding genuinely worried for me.

"It's okay, Zyon, sometimes you have to change for someone you love."

"If this is what makes you happy then fine, I'm happy too." He said letting the ordeal go.

Finally, the moment of truth arrived. With bated breath, I turned to face the mirror, bracing myself for the inevitable disappointment.

And then I saw it-the reflection staring back at me, with hair the color of summer sunshine and a smile that lit up the room. I couldn't believe it-I actually looked...good?

Zyon grinned, his eyes sparkling with pride. "Well, I'll be damned. You actually did it, Janey. You're a bona fide blonde bombshell."

I couldn't help but laugh, the tension and anxiety melting away in the glow of my new hair. "Thanks, Zyon. I couldn't have done it without you."

"Of course, blondie. I couldn't pass up the opportunity to call you a dumb blonde at any inconvenience." He said with a grin. I couldn't even be mad at him since he's the one who helped me. I smiled as I looked at my reflection.