Disposable Teens (Maniggy)

Chapter 5

Brian's POV

I'd managed to get "hired" at the school's salon, where students could get their hair and nails done if they had permission, and the staff could pretend they were providing job training. Apparently they thought giving me something to focus on would keep me in line, and they didn't trust me around kitchenware or tools.

The services were free, and generally you got what you paid for. It was one of those lame-ass rewards they tried to trick us with, meaningless in the scheme of things. You'll still be trapped, but hey, you'll be trapped with a fresh manicure. I wasn't allowed to touch any of the fun stuff anyway, I just cleaned the place. It said a lot that they thought our top career prospects included sweeping up hair clippings.

But it was at least a break from the boredom of the dorm study room, and the woman who ran it, Mona, was strict without being cruel. When she snapped at us for breaking the rules, I got the impression she was doing it because she didn't want to see us suffer. And she only snapped when there was a chance of getting caught. She must've had some dirt on someone important here, I can't imagine how she kept her job otherwise.

I worked alongside a pair of girls who styled hair and painted nails under Mona's supervision, and we could talk to each other freely. She even let us listen to the radio when the guards weren't around. My mind and ears were starved enough that shitty Top 40 pop music sounded almost good by that point.

The girl fussing over her friend's nails turned to me. "Hey, Brian, I'm out of purple and that's what Kelsey wants. Could you look in the drawer over there and see if there's any? Thanks."

In the top drawer was a tray of makeup, most of it sealed and untouched. Probably donated by some well-meaning dipshit who wanted a tax break and didn't realize just how uptight this place is. I'd never seen anyone here wear makeup, aside from Jeordie when he first came in.

The second drawer down was full of nail polish. I handed over the first purple one I saw, then went back to the first layer, doing my best to look like I was just sorting things. I rummaged around and grabbed a set of dark eyeshadow and a couple of bold lipsticks. It would've been a waste to let it just sit there. Clearly, nobody wanted it.

I knew someone who might, though.

Jeordie's POV

Brian sat next to me at lunch, like usual, but he seemed a little more nervous than normal. I knew he'd gotten one of those bullshit unpaid jobs a couple days ago. Maybe he'd already lost his temper and blown it, or whatever they had him doing was difficult and stressing him out.

"Trouble at work?" I asked when he seemed unable to stop fidgeting.

"Nah, it's easy, and nobody pays much attention to me." He lowered his voice. "I tried to get high off huffing one of those cans of Barbisol, but it didn't work and Mona just laughed at me."

"Pfft. You fucking dumbass." I snorted and punched him in the arm, he shoved me back, then I calmed down and folded my hands into my lap when one of the cafeteria ladies shot us a nasty look.

Brian's shoulders shook from him trying to squelch his own laughter. "I was being resourceful, is all. I think I deserve credit for that." He glanced around, warily. "Speaking of," he said, "This is yours now. Do a good job hiding it." He shoved something into my hand.

I looked down. It was a small but nice eyeshadow palette of smoky, dark shades, and a couple of lipsticks to match.

I gasped. "Why, though?" This couldn't have come from anywhere legit and I was worried he'd get beaten again. I didn't know what happened last time, but this seemed like the kind of thing that would do the trick.

He spoke quietly again. "Because I'm trying to be nice, goddamnit."

I laughed and felt my face grow warm. "Thanks," I said. It was a sweet gesture, but makeup was still kind of an odd thing to give another guy just out of nowhere. My mind reeled with possibilities as I wondered exactly how "nice" Brian was willing to get.

Brian's POV

I still couldn't admit how I felt about him. Who knew if he would even return my feelings? Ray let slip what I already suspected, but just because someone's gay or bi doesn't mean they're into every guy they meet. And I wasn't exactly a dreamboat. It was worse than just being skinny and unathletic. Despite the desire gnawing at me, I dreaded how Jeordie might react if he ever saw my scars.

But I could at least try and be good to him anyway. So few people here inspired that in me, and I felt like he needed it most of all.