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Nevaeh looked at her clothes, a mixture of threads from her own picks grabbed at a thrift store and some from her lovely sibling’s storage units. She hadn't known what the details were when she went to the place with the key. In fact she hadn't known much information except what was on the keys themselves. When the key was handed to her at the party, Every had been pleased but Nevaeh thought it was a small unit with a few boxes in it. Little did she know what to expect from Helena; except it would be an adventure. She took the keys in the lock box under the bed of her apartment. Before her mother and father had gotten sick her dad had a nice car, it was a show car he was very proud of. It had to be sold to pay for hospital bills, rent and other things he needed. Now he had this cheap truck that barely ran, however, it ran. She trudged through the city taking the transit to the spot where she’d left the car since her father had died. For insurances, they’d always taken the battery out of the car so no one could steal the piece of junk as if anyone would want to.

The piece of junk truck with a small bed in the back that was covered with a hard top mismatching and rusted out. The reason they’d bought it like that was to tote around all of her mom and dad’s medical supplies. It was enough to get them by, which was the important part. Tonight it would work for this purpose. After getting the battery into the truck she pulled it out of the parking garage using the key card in the glove box. It was a miracle it hadn't been removed yet. After tonight though, she’d be getting rid of it. Now the first unit had to have been a mistake when she cleaned it out. There was no way Helena had this many clothes, and closer to 30 storage units that large. It had everything a woman could love in it. Jewelry, hair pieces, hats, gloves and clothes; more clothes then Nevaeh had seen in a store. When she put the key into the unit and opened the door her mouth fell to the ground. This hadn't been what she expected at all. Oh no, it was far beyond that. She’d expected a small locker size unit that she could touch the back of when standing at the door. No, this was the largest unit the place had to sell. After double checking with the man at the desk she went back to the unit finding out all three of the units were this large and jammed packed with items. There was no way her little truck was going to fit everything or her being able to carry it all on her own. How one woman owned this much stuff was beyond Nevaeh. Neva stood at the opening blinking in response. The manager of the unit came with a hearty chuckle, offering her a card for professional movers. That was one call she made immediately. Now given that she lived inside the Quarantine Zone, Corvidae Flats, she couldn't very well have it all delivered there. Knowing her sire wouldn't kill her, she gave the address of the only other place she knew of to have it delivered, her sire’s apartment. And for safe keeping, her poked into his mind to let him know what she was up to. It was easier for her to speak into someone’s mind then call and speak to them. He’d tell her its fine, which he did with his booming voice in her head. It was enough to shake her from the daze of seeing it all jammed packed into the unit. But she ordered the trucks and men to help her clear out the units, all three of them. The amount of clothes that were in one unit was enough to fill up her apartment alone. Not just her closet, her whole apartment including every room she had in the place. She was going to need a lot of help sorting through it all. The first step was getting it out of the storage unit and into Micah’s apartment in Honeymead. That way she could see what would fit her, what wouldn't and what other treasures were buried under the chaos.

After paying a small fortune, luckily she had some extra money since the night of the family fun fight where others gave her money for a new sparring weapon but somehow she still hadn’t had enough, until Paige helped with that too. Between Jayd, Nix and Paige not only did she get a new training weapon but also help with what she’d been saving up for and a little extra. Tonight, that little extra was going to be put to use. That night was like her birthday, presents coming from everywhere. She’d felt so special with her Hello Kitty band aid, that went to the man playing the little hand held video game and the new Rune staff she was sporting while killing things in the Quarantine Zone. She’d have to talk to Micah about getting a whole box of the Hello Kitties when she was done with this. …To be honest, she wasn't even sure how she was fitting it all into the apartment. It seemed like there was so much stuff to be delivered that she didn't know where to put it all even in his apartment. If he seen how much she had buried into the space, he'd be upset but when she was finished, it would be like nothing had been in there at all and she did get his permission.

In the first unit, she found cases of make up from what seemed like some exotic location. Perhaps Russia since she couldn't read the writing on the label, after all wasn't Helena from somewhere over there. Maybe it was Denmark, but she wasn't too sure. The accent was thick, and she had a hard time understanding some of the words the woman said. She tried to get the context but it was lost to her. Box by box, Dress bags, cases of makeup, jewelry and shoes; this woman had everything in the world to make her feel like a princess among paupers. After a few hours and many of movers, the lot of the three storage units was squeezed in tight to Micah’s apartment. The bedroom set she’d found, and other mismatched pieces of furniture were on the bed of her truck. The hardback was long gone and replaced with tarps, ropes and bungee cords holding it all on the bed of the truck.

After paying, with a hefty tip, to each of the people carrying the loads to and from the unit to the apartment then up the floor and into the apartment she stood by the door and sat down going through the first box. She sat cross legged with the box in front of her. The first thing she knew most likely wouldn't fit her at all, pants. Due to the differences in height, the only way she would fit into the pants is if Helena hadn't had them altered to fit her yet. After a few boxes in there was more in the keep pile then she already owned in her closet. All of the clothing was worth more than everything she owned in her apartment, in every apartment she’d had for her entire life. As a human, she could have sold these and made enough to live on for the next ten years if not her entire life. The hard work would rage on for days, maybe even weeks with the amount she had. Every space was filled to the brim with stuff. It was her luck, from what she knew, hardly anyone used the apartment. She’d at least have time to sort through the mess she’d made without anyone going to Micah and letting him know how bad it was, bad enough you couldn't get more than a foot into the door without meeting boxes from floor to ceiling of clothing and other things that girls needed to feel beautiful. The shoes she thought wouldn't fit, and she was right. But, she knew just the place to bring them... all of it that she wasn't keeping herself and make enough money to buy the shoes to keep with the outfits. This wasn't going to be a thrift store find for shoes, this would require credit cards to buy the matching pairs. Not nearly as many shoes as she was finding from Helena still in the original boxes and most all of them had the receipts inside the boxes. The one pair, nearly twenty thousand dollars, made her gasp in a breath. If she’d had this when she was a human, maybe her parents might have had better health care, better insurance and longer lives. Yet, as sad as that thought made her she knew it wouldn't be possible since it wasn't until she was turned did she meet the rest of the siblings. Micah, having seen her playing hood ornaments for the oncoming vehicle and her bloodied woman lying in the road. She never asked him the details of the event like how many wheels had rolled over her or had she done what you see in movies and flip over the car. There were so many different ways it could have happened that she never thought about it much after she was turned. It wasn't good to dwell on something so sad, when she was sad things sort of became hazy. She would see people who no one else seemed to see there. She’d talk to the person next to her only to find out no one came or left the room she was in. It wasn't going to scare her; maybe she was just seeing ghosts that no one else could. They were all over the city from what she heard. That had to be it.
After sorting through about half the first room full of boxes, she was tired. Instead of going straight to bed here at Micah’s, she still needed to get a few things done before she could settle in for the day. The night was running out of time, dawn would be coming on the horizon faster then she’d hoped for. Some of the clothes were dropped off at a twenty four hour dry cleaners to be ready the following night. Others, the ones not made of special materials, were in the washer and dryer at her apartment. A few loads on the truck brought from the sires to her apartment, she finally rested for the day. It had been a close enough call when the sun touched the tips of the trees bathing them in a golden light as the night receded. She bid her adopted childer good day, the vampire version of goodnight, and fell fast asleep. Oddly enough, she felt comfortable enough around him that could sleep beside him without being tense. There wasn't anything special beyond she’d adopted him from the one she had turned, Maggie. The wayward one who ran off before she’d had a chance to get to know her. Out of it, she got a son type of guy and that was good in her book. She actually liked the guy hanging about, even if she would never admit it out loud.

Her nights became busy with going to Micah’s apartment, taking down boxes and sorting though the mass. She wasn’t sure how someone could get a hold of mannequins like Helena had, and all of them seemed to be Helena’s height and body type. Only the metal framed ones seemed to be adjustable to get Nevaeh’s height and body frame. Both girls had similar waists, they were both pretty thin. But Helena had more curves over Nevaeh. Basically put, Helena had been heavier on the top half from the lithe woman she gave the clothes to. Nevaeh started to have a little fun trying to figure out what to keep, especially when she found the mannequins buried in the back of the biggest room of the apartment. She’d dress them up, the metal ones she’d adjusted to meet her own height and body type to see what clothes to keep and which ones to get rid of. The boxes of wigs helped her a lot. Soon she was talking to them as if they had personalities of their own.

“No darling, you look ravishing in that floral parquet.” She didn’t even know what parquet was but no one was here in the apartment to correct her wrong doings. Had Micah walked in at any of those moments where she had the music on full blast on her IPOD, and she was dancing around with the inanimate mannequins, he’d have chuckled at her. He’d have laughed even harder at her miss using the word parquet, a floor tile not anything having to do with a wardrobe at all. But it sounded fancy and damn it with the gown covering her regular clothes and the doll shaped like her all dressed up, they looked fancy in her opinion. That had been the best way to decide on what to keep and what not to wear, plus she didn’t even need a gay guy to help her along. Although, seeing as she had a friend who was a gay guy, she could have asked him to help. That would have detour her from having so much fun picking and choosing what to keep and sell to make enough money to buy shoes. By now the woman at the shop who was buying the extra clothes from her must have thought she’d stolen them. A few visits in the woman started eyeing her and asking strange questions.

“Are police going to show up asking if this is stolen Miss?” Nevaeh would just shake her head back and forth telling her no, asking if she really wanted to buy this steal from her. Yes, Nevaeh was only getting a fraction of what the clothes were worth but it would be enough to get the matching shoes for the outfits she did keep. And seeing as she already had shoes to go by, she wasn’t completely lost in the fashion world. The shoes she kept, the lady would order on the computer from the ones she brought into the store. Neva would place the ones she’d want on the counter and ask her to find them in her size, which meant the lady could by the ones she had on her. The lady practically drooled over a few of them, seeing as she was the same height as Helena one could only assume some of the shoes and possibly clothes, might never make it into the store. The gowns, however, Neva kept. There was always some ball or event going on in the family so she would need a pretty extensive collection to keep for herself. Most had been redone to match Helena’s form, but Neva knew where a good seamstress was to get them altered again to fit her shape and form. The only real problem had been the shoes and pants. Some of the pants Neva had the seamstress turn into Capri pant, not that they needed Capri pants in Canada, but it was good to have them on hand. From designer to designer, Neva wasn’t learning a thing about the name brands. The only way she was really keeping the woman from ripping her off was by turning on palter before heaving in a few boxes at a time. Every piece of jewelry, everything that sparkled or shone, she kept for herself. The only thought that really struck Neva as odd was that these were only three units of over thirty the woman had. Eve and others like Jaxton were trying to help cut back Helena’s addiction to clothes. Now, Neva understood that a bit more differently. For one she understood how different materials felt against her body. Some seemed like there was nothing at all that hung from the shoulders, while others felt as comfortable as a babies blanket swaddling him. From box to box to box, nights on end passed by in a flash. She’d attended events dressed better since they weren’t her clothes she wore. Jeans that fit her like a second skin, altered to fit her body. The only thing she really questioned was the corsets. Not one of them was a simple zip up one like she’d bought once upon a time at Hot Topic at the Mall. No, these were very strange. They laced up or had little pearled buttons running along the spine. Her attempts failed at getting into them, even over the clothes since she couldn’t reach the odd angles to bend and twist getting them on. These needed a second person to help someone into them. Maybe Helena had someone assisting her dress, or …. Neva thought perhaps the woman was a contortionist. She wasn’t sure she could look at Helena the same way again if she found out the later was true. She picked to believing someone was in the room helping her dress like ladies of old, a lady in waiting squeezing the maiden into the corset telling her to suck in her breath while she was strung up from behind grabbing a pole for an anchor. It was all rather elaborately redone with Neva laughing and acting it out in the apartment while she sorted. The anchor was more boxes of course.
At one point in time, she wore two different colored wigs; two dresses held up by a corset that she had used the strings tied around her waist. The big floppy hat on her head was like a bad toupee. She wore jeweled necklaces that would have looked better on her if there was only one at a time but also with a gown. A finger glinted off each and every finger and sometimes two or three rings. Then it struck her maybe, as she danced around the room to White Wedding by the Murderdolls, that Helena was really an international spy and all of this was her gear. The only reason she was passing it on to Neva was because she wanted Neva to join in the business. Maybe all of them were international spies; Neva had to wait until she spoke up and passed the test. A rite of passage of sorts, before she could earn the title, something she would have to ask Helena about when they were alone. If she really wanted Neva to be an international spy and Neva was selling off the clothes to gain enough money for the matching shoes, did she fail? She wanted to be an international spy, and thought she would make a good one. As light as she was for her height, she could do flips and move about. Plus she was proficient in weaponry. That was always a bonus!

Micah was the leader, not just of the family. He was the leader of his angels. They were all spies cleverly hidden as vampires. That was what the family fight nights really were! They were training sessions for them, for him to test their strengths and weaknesses. The last family fight night she took Micah on, and even though she came out of it with a head wound, she wanted a rematch. That must have been it! She was strong enough now to stand on her own and not behind him. He’d seen it and sent Helena in to dress her! She was almost sure of it. Helena was the fashionable one. Every seemed very efficient, a silent but deadly killer. It was Micah and his Angels just like Charley! Now she could prove to be in the ranks of one of his deadly little angels. She’d helped the family before, besides she had many of tricks up her sleeve. She could lock people in their houses, or teleport them. She could do more than shoot a weapon and even that she was getting really good at. It would be fun to find out. But she couldn’t rightly burst out and say she knew what was going on. She would have to be more clever and cunning then that.

She’d drop subtle hints she knew was on to them. She could be subtle if she wanted to be. After all, she kept her deepest darkest secret to herself. She never told a soul anything about it. It wasn’t like she never remembered, she remembered every moment of every night about it. It haunted her in ways no one could ever image. It was her secret, hers and no one else. Surely that proved she would make an excellent spy. Now she just needed to learn their code names. She heard them using it all the time; she needed to get one of those. If she got a nickname, then she knew she was in.

The boxes were dwindling from the second biggest room in the apartment. Her collection of clothes went from nothing to over flowing. She might even rival Macaria’s massive wardrobe now. Every closet was filled, every dresser. Even the new ones she found buried in one of the bunkers containing all these boxes. She’d once watched a movie where the girl was a bridesmaid for all the weddings her friends had, she had a collection of dresses stowed away in a closet. Now that looked like one of her closets in the apartment. She was going to have to build more closets to fill. If it wasn’t for Axel having a thrall, she could have turned the bathroom and kitchen into more closet space. Of course, by now she was pushing his clothes over claiming she just needed a little more room for her clothes. She could imagine the expression on his face if she had asked him instead of just pushing his clothes over and shoving them into his closet too. He’d find out sooner or later.

All the while, all the time she was spending unpacking and finding the little treasures mixed into the boxes, she thought of what her nickname could be. Not nickname that sounded to personal, codename! That was what they called them in all those spy movies she watched. In the boxes, some of them were more boxes with paper wrapped around the shirt or even full outfit in the boxes. There were boxes that had everything picked out for the outfits. In another box, tissue and bubble wrap that sadly kept her occupied for a few hours, held a fine china tea set. She immediately placed all the mannequins around the coffee table all dressed to the nines with hats and jewels while she set the pot on the table. It was empty of course, since she couldn’t even drink water. All of the mannequins by this point had been given names, all eight of them. The ones with mock faces, blank stares kind of scared her but those three were named Damaris, Harmony and Tonya. Then the other ones were named Gwynn, Polly, Nanette, Chantel and Veta. She had named them all not knowing if Helena had named them already. If she had, she would stop calling them by the names she gave them and start calling them by their real names. Since Helena wasn’t here to ask, she just happily went about her night calling them the names she’d chosen for them. “Veta, would you like a spot of tea!”

In another voice, that seemed not to come from Nevaeh at all Veta answered, “Why yes, certainly dear. I’d love a spot of tea.” Nevaeh had never had enough money to even think how the other half lived, at least until this wardrobe came along. The tea set would have to go back to Helena but for now she lowered the music and sat on the floor having a talk with the girls over a ‘spot of tea’ on a break from sorting the cluttered mess of boxes. Chantel was being very cranky today not wanting to play tea party for her, she moved from the table and set Chantel in the corner. The faceless wire rack adorned with a feminine bowler hat and twenties style dress was put into a time out until she was going to play nice with the other girls. From her spot on the floor Neva would call out, not until you learned your lesson young lady! The mannequin spent a full ten minutes in the time out before rejoining the tea party. After all these girls, even the mean ones and cranky ones were now like her children, children she would never admit to having or being able to have. The woman sitting on the floor was barren of being able to have children seeing as she was now considered dead by the mortal standards.
After the tea party she packed the set back into the box with more bubble wrap then it had before since she’d popped most of the protective bubbles in a spurt of having fun in the midst of packing. Her girls would be dressed and undressed per box they went to. The only one that had really confused her of all the boxes where the camouflage outfits in one of the boxes, at that point the entire apartment became a warzone. Her IPOD became a radio calling out for mayday. Of course this only went on to prove they were spies and going to bring Neva into their fold. This was going to be important; she needed all these different sort of clothes to blend into any atmosphere. She still hadn’t decided on a good call name but really that shouldn’t come from her. It should be given to her from the leader. She needed to hang out with Micah more often and keep a close eye on him, her ears opened and listening for her code name. She’d make an excellent spy for him.

By the time the biggest bedroom was back into the perfect order it had been before all the boxes had taken up space, she started to work on the bathroom. These boxes, well the first few she opened up had made her blush. She wasn’t even a human, or supposes to be able to blush. It was the heat rising to her cheeks that sent her in front of the mirror. It was strange, the reflection looking back on her. She was younger then she remembered, twenty reminded her lot of when she was twelve or thirteen. It had to be her, with the long brown hair growing into her body. It moved when she moved, feeling that all her womanly bits were intact. She moved back away from the mirror, glaring at the glassy reflection. She pointed at it, with it pointing right back to her. She grabbed her head and yelled, screamed at it to stop. This was the time he appeared.

“You’re seeing things again Neva.” His voice canted out to her. The yelp escaped before she could choke it down. “There is nothing in the mirror.” He said stepping between her and the mirror. Normally she wouldn’t be mad like this but this wasn’t her apartment. He had no right coming into her sire’s apartment without permission, and she’d already been upset by the mirror telling her she was younger than her twenty years on earth.

“Get out! You aren’t allowed in this place. If he sees you, he will get mad!” She shouted at him. She picked up clothes from the box and started to throw them in his general direction. “Get out!” she hoot and hollered at him until he threw up his hands and wafted through the doorway. When he was gone she put all the clothes in the box but stopped to carefully drape a towel over the mirror without looking into it again. The box was much larger, harder to carry down the hallway. When the voice bemused her from the couch she dropped the box letting out another yelp.

This time she was a lot calmer, not like the bathroom incident. “You need to leave before Micah comes here and sees you sitting here.” She said motioning to the door.

“Sorry sweetheart, I can’t do that. Besides weren’t you who said no one else could see me.” His logical mind, at the moment she hated it. She wanted to dance around the room and play with her girlfriends but now he was here. The music was lowered so she could talk to him, “You seem upset, did I make you mad?”

“No,” She said in a cool tone. “I was just having fun with my girls before you came along. It’s like you are ruining our girls’ night.” Her eyes fell toward the mannequin’s gesturing those were the friends she was speaking of.

He flew up off the couch in one fowl swoop stealing the hat off Damaris. He grabbed a dress that hung over the edge of the box draping it around his neck with the sleeves. He pranced around the room until she began chuckling. The way her head shook showed him he won, he could stay.

“You know if you think they are really real Nevaeh, you might be losing it.” He said to her setting the dress and hat aside. “But I already think you are losing it, you know that.” He spoke while moving back to take up his position on the cleared off couch.

The box rested in front of Neva who knelt down beside it folding her legs under her. “I don’t think they are real. They are just mannequins, but they kept me company while I did all of this.” She worked, unpacking and sorting the clothes into piles. One pile was clothes she thought needed to be altered, dresses that needed to be taken in to fit her body type. Then there was small, too small for her height or too big for her bust line. She had a pile that was nothing of her taste; you couldn’t get her to wear that no matter what you did. Some of the colors, not that Neva could see what colors they were, were not flattering on her but most just hung on her wrong. Even the girls had agreed it didn’t look decent on her.

The largest pile, the keep pile, she was having a hard time figuring out what to do with. The clothes in the boxes were protected in plastic space bags that shrank down when you used the vacuum on them. She already had both her bed here and at her apartment filled with these bags.

“Nevaeh! Hey Earth to Nevaeh!” He called out from the couch, now sitting up with his elbows resting on his knees. “You back Miss Lala Land?” She nodded a response to him somber.
“Good.” He spoke to her gently, knowing how easily he had a way of setting her off on a tangent. “So what else have you been up to besides going through the boxes?”
Did she dare tell him about Micah being the leader of an international spy group, of his girls not just being vampires but the ones who work for him and she was being brought into their folds. That might have sounded a bit crazy. “Nothing.” She said meek as a mouse. She couldn’t tell anyone, not even him or especially not him, about the family being spies. For all she knew he was a spy the enemies were using to gather information on her and the family. “Why are you even here?” She blurted out at him throwing down the silk blouse. “Why are you ever around! Haven’t you done enough damage already?” She canted out to him angry, hurt. Without the care she normally took putting the clothes into a box she threw the piles already separated away into the cardboard and closed them up. Since she knew he wouldn’t leave, she got up and carried the boxes down to the truck she still had. Her lean face stuck in a grimace. At the last box she locked up the apartment shutting off the lights behind her, leaving him sitting in the dark room alone with the girls.

“Neveah, don’t be like that!” He called out when lock clicked over. “You know we are going to need to talk about this!” He muttered something else before the elevator doors closed but she didn’t hear him, by that point she had just enough energy to get these clothes to the shop with the shoes and pick up any new shoes she had sitting there waiting for her. At least that gave her something to be happy about. That man always ruined her good mood.

The dreams came in odd mixtures she couldn’t remember; triangles, open boxes and clothes trying to swallow her whole. It was the strangest dream she’d had in a long time. She was standing in this room that was a triangular shape, open boxes of clothing was falling on her head and eat her alive as she stood there. For the longest time she was trapped inside the dream unable to wake up but as soon as the dusk settled over the city she shot up out of the bed her eyes opened immediately. “Weird dream!” She stated to the no one there.

She got up from the bed wondering around finding the mixture of clothes on the floor, smelling them to make sure they were clean before pulling them on. In the bathroom she brushed her teeth and did what she could with her knotted hair. It was getting pretty bad again. There were knots on top of knots a never-ending jungle of hair. When it was brushed, the length met the curve of her buttocks but when it was like this, when she didn’t bother to even attempt to run a brush through it, it fell in clumps to her mid back. It wasn’t like she was out to impress anyone. The fake red was nearly faded out of the mousy brown locks, giving it just the hint of a chestnut color in the mixture of tangles. At least she had pretty clothes and jewelry to wear to distract people from the fact her head was nothing more than a royal mess.

Today she wore jeans, designer and now crumpled from lying on the floor of her apartment. This was why she shopped at thrift stores instead of owning all these fine clothes Helena was giving her. She didn’t know how to take care of them other then following the directions on the tag themselves. The tag never said not to throw them on the floor. The shirt she picked up was a mustard green colored shirt. She went to her now full jewelry box getting a set of ruby dangling earrings, an onyx and gold necklace and some amethyst rings to complete her look. In her eyes they were all different shades and tones, matching up to the shirt. She could see some of the colors but not the hues of them. Reds, Blues and purples tended to look like one another. Greens and yellows looked alike, but she could tell some of the yellows that didn’t look good with her skin tone apart from others. She was partially color blind in a manner of speaking. That was something she chalked up to having no fashion sense unlike her siblings who took fine care in their appearance.

Time has passed since she had seen or heard from Jayd, last time she seen him she’d been making her apologies for causing him to pee on other person. He’d been such a good sport about it, never got mad at her for putting his hand in the warm water when he fell asleep at the party. So before she left to unpack the boxes she baked Jayd a cake, a smooth cookies and cream cheesecake but inside the cake she put a key to her apartment. It was an odd way to say come visit me, but she wasn’t quite right in the head. After having the cake delivered on her way to Micah’s apartment to keep unpacking the boxes, she spotted a pen in the window at the Honeymead Market area. That was something he needed, she knew that he needed a nice pen for his college classes. Something that would define him from the rest of the students, so she purchased him one of those too and sent it off to him. In her mind she felt the moment the email came in and in the mix of unpacking the last of the bathroom she sent a return email, oddly not of the best nature but it wasn’t bothering her. He’d thanked her for the cake in his normally bubbly way. He was so adorable sometimes! At first she was just going to pick on him for the off key marriage proposal. The joke became funnier as they started planning the details of the wedding. She wanted to freak him out, to make him recant it but he wasn’t taking the bait. Now it seemed like this was to be something they could do. Hey, she could do worse. And what an ego boost for the fellow, he married a lesbian and made her straight for a while. She couldn’t very well refuse it after playing along. Or could she! She could tease him right back, so she went to Micah all gung ho about this wedding waiting for it to get back to Jayd, pushing his buttons until he said no way! After talking with Micah, she got back to work setting everything back in the place it had been in Micah’s apartment. Not the one he lived in but the one he used for his childer. Nevaeh had a room of her own off in the corner, which was perfect for her. It was a small guest room but she took it over.

The small guest room was the exact room she had left to go. When she opened the door to the room all the boxes that had been shoved in there fell on her. A picture frame with some very pretty lady fell on her head. The woman was really put together. Laying on her elbows covered in the remnants of the box that had opened and taken her down she looked at the picture in the frame, unsure if it was someone Helena knew or the picture that came with the frame, she got a wonderful idea. She used her mind to connect with her email and sent Jayd a message about meeting her at a bar, a college bar. This was going to make him feel like a real man. She needed to get out of this pile and head out to the salon, a spa salon where they did everything. In the lobby she found such a place in the phone book. This mop of her was going to be taken care of and she gets to help Jayd feel all manly.

That wasn’t the exact thought that went through her mind when the beautician was ripping through her hair with the brush. She was having her head yanked to and fro as the lady tried to get out the massive tangles piled atop of one another. Between the thoughts of killing this woman and the little painful whimpers coming out of her mouth, she heard the woman muttering how someone could let this happen, especially a grown woman. Only in this city, only in Harper Rock would a grown woman capable of taking care of herself let this happen, let her hair become this bad of a knotted disaster. It took a good hour to untangle the hair. Finally they were ready to begin. The woman asked her one more time if she wanted this, holding the scissors out ready to cut. With a quiet agreement from Nevaeh the woman started the makeover of her head. She wasn’t sure which part hurt more over the course of the next few hours. Was it the lady pulling what hair she had out of her legs with wax and cloth or was it the one who kept babbling on to her about things she could care less about like beauty and what her friends did the previous night as she mauled Neva’s hands and feet. Jayd had better appreciate every last moment of this night when he became a stud, the manliest of men because she swore under her breath this was the first and last time she was doing this. That man had been swoon like woman in her eyes, if he knew who she was. The color treatment sat on her head in a smelly good that both itched and burned at the same time. Seeing as the stuff she threw on her hair before hadn’t touched her scalp she didn’t know this was how it was suppose to feel like. When the cosmetologist made a comment about how poorly a job her hair had been colored before, she pictured ripping the girls throat out with her scissors and bathing in the shower of blood that sprayed out of her orifice. Yet, she just smiled and shrugged. It had been the attempt that mattered, in her eyes. This wasn’t bliss, how any woman seen this as bliss had her head reeling. Women elected to get this stuff done regularly, torture themselves in this way. Yet she was the crazy one who woke up, grabbed something and went about her night. No, this was insane! And it was taking forever. She wanted to get out of this chair already. There were so many people around her, touching her. It was causing her to get panicked. She had to close her eyes, close them tight and image she was still buried under the boxes back at the apartment. It was better, better than being here in this chair surrounded by woman who spoke of nothing more than inane chattered and gossip. Oh someone save her from this…