Operation Glowup (Gone Wrong)

He groaned. “Why for fucks sake should I trust you and Scylla to do my hair?”

Maria shrugged with a sweet smirk. “Well, my hair is gorgeous, obvi.” She leaned closer and kissed him. Of course, he immediately melted into it, making Maria grin. “And you love me,” she mumbled against his lips. Carter answered with a choked hum, his hand flexing on her ass.

Scylla, sitting next to them, cleared their throat. “Guys, no sex on my couch again.”

Maria rolled her eyes and leaned away from Carter, who grinned like an idiot, his hand still on her ass. “Hey, I’m just convincing him… Now, please, babe…” She smirked again and this time totally not obviously, pushed her boobs into his view. Carter's brown eyes flickered down and up again, his pupils dilated. Then he groaned again and let his head fall back against the back of the couch.

“Okay.”

He was already regretting it.

Maria and Scylla immediately acted like they were his professional stylists. Scylla sat on the back of the couch, looking down on Carter’s scalp, and Maria sat straight, no trace of her flirting on her face, her overlined eyebrows furrowed in concentration.

“Your curls are screaming for help,” Scylla muttered. Carter huffed and pushed a stray curl away from his face, which immediately flicked down again by Maria. “My hair’s fine, cheers.” Maria grimaced. “God, no. Your curls are, like, sooo gorg, but you torture them!”

Ten minutes later, Carter’s hair was in a plastic bag, ‘so the mask can work better’, a weird mask made of avocado and olive oil and some plants Scylla said would help, though Carter suspected they just want to also dye HIS hair turquoise, because ‘The voice’ told them that it would change the world or something. Bloody hell.

Maria was already looking at his skin, like it was its own failure in itself. “Do you even use face wash?” Carter shrugged. “I have this three-in-one thing.” Scylla and Maria shared a look like they were about to commit a murder, and Scylla even clutched their crystal necklace in disappointment. “Gesù Cristo, non c'è da stupirsi… Babe, your skin is SO dry, doesn’t it hurt?” The black-haired frowned. “No? I mean it’s… It’s just skin, what the ‘ell?”

Maria slowly shook her head and stood up to grab her toiletry bag, pink with Hello Kitty on it, and already leaving glitter on the wooden floor where it sat next to her other things.

“Okay, you need this, this, this, oh that too!” She placed way too many little bottles on slabs of wood. Scylla looked at them over Carter’s head. “That’s lotta chemical AIS though. Maybe something natural instead?” Maria tutted. “Nah, that works, trust me.” Already opening one and starting to dip it on Carter’s face. He flinched and looked like he was about to bolt. “It’s cold. And stinks.” Maria giggled. “Shut up, you big baby.”

Two minutes later, he was sure she cursed him. His face was BURNING, and when he moved it, he could feel how his skin was tighter, like the one time he got a chemical burn from glow stick fluid.

“Mari, is it supposed to burn?!” he asked, his voice more panicked than he wanted it to be. Maria just shrugged. “It’s a chem peeling, it should burn… Beauty is pain, babe.”

“It’s burning my face off.”

“Only the ugly parts.”

Carter gasped and then crossed his arms over his chest. “Wow, cheers, Mari.” Even though his voice was offended, his eyes showed hurt that Mari didn't see. Scylla did, though, and slightly rubbed Carter’s arm.

Finally, it was time for the washing off part.

As soon as the water hit his face, he almost groaned in relief. The ache faded with the peeling and just left a tingly, tight feeling on his face.

“God, never again,” he mumbled into the towel he used to dry his face with.

Afterwards came the hair. Scylla carefully pulled the plastic bag away to reveal… Green curls.

Oh no.

He already fucking suspected it.

“My hair is green…,” Carter said dangerously quiet.

“Oh, no, it’s just-” Scylla started, but got interrupted by Carter.

“No, I don’t care if it’s ‘just turquoise’, or sea green or whatever! My! Hair! Is! Bloody! Green!”

He started to pace, muttering like a madman: “I know I should’t fuckin’ trust you, for fucks sake my fuckin’ hair is green, my bloody hair is bloody GREEN!”

“Carter, it’s-”

“NO, MARI, YOU DYED MY BLOODY HAIR WITHOUT TELLING ME!”

He was shaking with rage.

Samuel, who had just woken up, sleepily walked in, green eyes still half-closed and observing the scene. Without words, he walked to the sink, filled a glass with water and poured it over the still yelling Carter, who now screached like a cat you threw in a bathtub.

Still, it at least pulled him out of his tirade.

“Samuel, why?!” He asked, water dripping down his face.

Samuel shrugged. “Wanted to show you that it’s not dye.” “And that was your first thought?” Samuel shrugged again.

Carter looked between all three of them and left the bathroom, mumbling:

“I hate all of you.”