Sympathy for the Devil

part two

What were the plans for the day? He took the time to think, pulling a cig from his pack and waiting for his lighter. Jerry's words came echoing back to him, "change your look up". Unfortunately, he was still waiting for Pat to bring him clothing and such and that wouldn't be until later in the evening. He got his lighter back finally, lighting his cig and took a deep drag.

"So?" Star pressed.

"Well, we can't go out strong the first day. I know you want to get this over with but it's suspicious." He took a moment to take a drag of his cigarette. "Remember I said I need you to help me, help you?" Bill rested his elbows on his knees.

"Yeah, what about it?"

"Got anything in your bag to get rid of this?" He pointed at his 'stache.

Star smiled, "Oh! We're playing makeover!" She reached for her tote on the bed and rummaged through it. "You're lucky. I've got a new razor in here somewhere. Ah!" She lifted it in the air proudly upon finding it. "And, I've got clippers, stole it out of a jawn's car."

Bill had made Star sit in the bathroom with him while he shaved. She was upset about it but understood why she had to. It was quite funny to her, he was stern but never mean, at least so far. He wasn't like the rest of the pigs, she could tell that much. Bill finished shaving his mustache that he had spent months growing out thick and then turned to Star asking how he should do his hair.

"My man, had the sides shaved? Long on top? I don't know what it's called?"

"Your man," he questioned.

Star rolled her eyes, "My pimp, whatever."

"Oh. Could you do it like his then?" He passed her the clippers and traded seats with her on the closed toilet to get on her level.

She glanced at him skeptically. "You sure?"

"Just, do it." He closed his eyes he didn't want to have to think about it.

The clippers cut close to scalp from his temple to the nape of his neck. He could feel his brown locks falling to his shoulders. In a sense, he felt his old self leaving him at that moment. He had to take on a new persona, the kind of persona he worked to lock behind bars. He had to remind himself that as soon as this was all over, once the job was done, his cruiser and his uniform were waiting for him crisp and new. He heard the clippers shut off and then the smell of hairspray filled the bathroom as Star slicked, what was left of his hair, back. Bill stood up, looking in the mirror as he felt the near bald sides with his hand and sighed. It was done. And he guessed it didn't look so bad.

"And what about your clothes?" Star said talking to his reflection in the mirror.

"Shit," he muttered. "This is all I have to wear right now."

"Jesus. The station didn't prepare you at all for this, did they? It's not your fault. Everyone's worthless over there." She pulled his navy necktie, "Get rid of this." Bill loosened it, taking it off. "Are you wearing like an undershirt?"

"A tank?"

"Okay, untuck your shirt and unbutton it." Bill unbuttoned his dark gray shirt, he grabbed the ends and billowed it out. Shedding off the last bits of his hair off it. He wore a thin gold chain underneath adding to the look, perfectly. "And your gun, you can't have it in a holster like that. Put it by ya cock," she pointed at his crotch.

"You don't have to say it like that?" Bill said taken aback by how blunt it was.

"Then put it by your, your thing, whatever?" She said annoyed.

"Don't say, thing. Just, just don't say anything about what I got, Jesus," he tucked his gun in the front of his waistband. "Alright? Better?"