Unknown Happen Stance

Chapter 20: Good To Be Bad Clubhouse!

Musa sat in the chair, her heart racing with a mix of anticipation and anxiety as Dizzy grabbed cans, her fingers nimble and confident. The hair wave makers were an unusual choice, but Musa was used to taking risks especially after the whirlwind of emotions that had brought her to this moment. As Dizzy began weaving the cans through her hair, a sense of camaraderie blossomed between them. The room buzzed with the sound of spray cans and laughter.
"More dark blue or heavier black color tones?" Dizzy asked, her enthusiasm evident in her voice, the corners of her lips curling into a bright, genuine smile. Musa caught a glimpse of Dizzy's excitement and felt a flicker of hope. Perhaps this new look might not just transform her hair but also lift her spirits.
"Minimal black undertones, mostly Dark Blueberry Blue," Musa replied her tone steady as she made the decision. She craved a change, something to mark this new chapter in her life—a reminder that she could redefine herself, even in the wake of the chaos she'd left behind.
"Oooo, this will be fun," Dizzy said, her eyes sparkling with creativity. She began to spray the color mix, expertly blending the hues, the intoxicating scent of paint mingling with the air. As the color took shape, Musa could see hints of the girl she once was surfacing beneath the layers of anger and frustration. It was as if every wave of blue whispered tales of freedom and possibility.
When Dizzy handed her the small hand mirror, Musa's breath caught in her throat. The image that stared back was breathtaking—an explosion of rich, vibrant blue that shimmered with life. Her jaw dropped in shock, but the surprise was more than just the expert detail; it was the haunting familiarity of it all.
As she examined the lively waves tucked behind her neck and cascading down her right shoulder, Musa felt a wave of nostalgia wash over her. This was the same shade of blue her mother, Matlin, had used during her childhood—each stroke a labor of love, a way to bond amidst the chaos of their lives. This blue hair color took her to her happy place, a time filled with laughter and warmth as her mother meticulously crafted her look, transforming her into a canvas of joy. The vivid hue was more than just a style; it was a connection to her past, a reminder of the carefree days spent nestled in her mother's embrace.
Musa's heart swelled with a bittersweet mix of emotions; she had longed for a piece of that happiness, and here it was, woven into her new hairstyle. It felt like a bridge between her present struggles and the cherished memories of her mother, illuminating the path forward. In that moment, she realized she was not only transforming her appearance but reclaiming a part of herself that had been hidden beneath layers of anger and uncertainty.
"This is gorgeous! Hairstylists in my world can't accomplish this blue hair color or this super sleek straight style, Dizzy. My friends might not recognize me when I go back to my world because of your superb hairdo!" exclaims Musa so filled with delight her eyes were smiling at Dizzy.

A warm pride bloomed in Dizzy's chest at Musa's reaction. "Well, Mal, Evie, and Carlos explained you had issues calming your anger down. And one of the best ways to ease it is trying new things—things that soak up that energy into positive satisfaction. That's how I manage with my Grandmother," Dizzy shared, her voice softening as she recalled her own journey.
Musa felt a pang of connection to Dizzy's words, understanding all too well what it meant to grapple with emotions that sometimes felt insurmountable.
"It is the way I dealt with my Mom too," Evie chimed in. "I went into fashion," she added, a hint of nostalgia in her voice, remembering the solace she found in her craft.
"Spraying graffiti was one of the ways I toned my anger down around my Mother, Maleficent," Mal interjected, her voice steady yet reflective. There was a vulnerability in her admission, one that resonated deeply with Musa. They were all navigating the complexities of their pasts, finding solace in creativity and camaraderie.
"Meet us at the clubhouse, Dizzy," Mal said, breaking the momentary silence. "We've got three more kids to gather before our VK chosen group comes to Auradon tonight." Musa felt the excitement of the evening ahead; a chance to embrace new beginnings alongside friends who understood her struggle.
As she stood, feeling the weight of her hair—now a cascade of dark blueberry waves—Musa took a deep breath. Perhaps this was the start of something more than just a new look; it was a step toward healing and embracing who she could become. With Dizzy's artistry, she felt a flicker of hope ignite within her, a reminder that change could be beautiful when approached with an open heart.