Other Fan Fiction ❯ Random Acts of Kindness ❯ BLACK ( Chapter 2 )

*BLACK* A.K.A. part two

Mikayla pulled her fingerless gloves off as she stared at the elaborate entrance to the salon. It had been a week since the 'rock-star' incident, and she had finally worked up the courage, and the curiosity, to give it a try. Her hair was, after all, an embarrassing shade of mud green, with a splash of midnight thrown in.

She opened one side of the frosted glass doors and made her way across the marble foyer, listening to the 'glomp-squeak' of her winter boots on the shiny surface, she almost slipped multiple times on the short walk, her limbs flailing as her boots made more unmentionable sounds.

"Can I help you?" The perfectly poised receptionist gave her the kind of look you'd give the dead sparrow your cat had carried home to you as a 'present'. She was running a buffer across the top of her, already mirror surfaced, nails and snapping gum that smelled strongly of berry-something.

"Um, yeah this place was recommended to me-"

"I can see why," the woman interrupted blandly, snapping her gum and giving Mikayla a look over, distaste showing clearly in her eyes.

"-by." She paused and rolled her eyes at the woman, "Well, he said to mention the name 'Billa-bong'," she breathed out in a rush, and the woman raised an eyebrow, her look still saucy.

From across the room through another pair of frosted glass doors, a commotion could be heard; out rushed a woman wearing little more than a towel and covered head to toe with drying greenish mud.

She crinkled her way over to Mikayla waddling with her stiff joints, the towel on her head, which held her hair, slightly unravelling.

"Vat, did you zay young lady? Billa-bong vaz it?" She spoke with a thick French accent.

"Yeah, it was Billa-bong, he gave me this card," she offered and watched as the woman moved like a dainty butterfly to grasp the edge of the business card with the tip of her elegantly long nails.

"Oh my," the woman gasped after having looked at the back of the card and made her way back to the still swinging glass doors, leaving crumbs of mud on the floor as she went, calling to Mikayla to take a seat, and that someone would be right with her.

So Mikayla sat in one of the comfortable lounge chairs, picked what appeared to be a brand new style magazine and began flipping through.

She was only past the third page when she heard a slightly familiar voice call out, and ducked to hide her face behind the magazine.

"Miki!" The shout was pitched high, but still definitely male and Mikayla winced moments before the magazine was torn from her hands and a smiling face filled her vision. "You came!"

Flustered and feeling exposed she blurted out the first thing that came to mind, "I prefer Kayla actually."

He blinked.

"Kayla…that's nice!"

Everything with him seemed over the top, his style his hair, his personality, except that today, what he was wearing could hardly constitute as stylish; the sweat pants he was wearing hung so low that the cuffs at the bottom dragged on the floor sweeping up the crumbs of mud that had been in his way, and his newly black hair had aluminium foil in it, presumably for his blond highlights.

He looked ridiculously and impractically endearing.

The moment was broken by the entrance of both the mud lady and a stylist holding a dye brush in one hand; the stylist was humbly imploring, while the mud lady was beaming.

"Mr. Kaulitz, please sir, will you come back to your chair? I must finish," the stylist implored.

Within a few minutes Mikayla found herself sitting in the salon chair beside Bill (who was now having his hair cut) with the now fully dressed and de-mud-ified mud lady cooing (and 'tsk'ing) over her green hair.

When she sat waiting for her dye to set, Bill turned to her with a huge but mostly fake smile on his face, she instantly knew he was buttering her up for something.

"So…" he drawled not dropping the toothy smile

"What?" She interrupted, scared and excited about what he might ask. He dropped the unrealistic grin and look at her from beneath his lashes, a blush on his face.

"You're the first one to actually come," he blurted out, looking bashful. "I've been handing out free spa visits left right and center, but you the first in almost a month; things aren't really turning out the way I had hoped they would," he sighed, "but I'm really glad you decided to come."

Almost instantly the honour of being given a free salon visit compliments of Bill Kaulitz didn't seem so special, he'd been handing them out to everyone? "Oh…" she tried not to sound too disappointed. "Why are you handing them out in the first place, if I may ask."

He smiled brightly but his eyes seemed sad. "I want to help people."

She snorted, suddenly overcome with giggles; only a stylish diva would consider free spa visits as helping people. "I think your going about that in a rather strange way, unless you mean you want to help the stylishly challenged?" She managed to speak through her giggles.

For a moment he looked adorably startled.

"I want to help everyone." He finally answered timidly.

She stopped giggling. "Why?"

"Just do, life's too short, and I want to do something important before…" he trailed off, the blood draining from his face, but then seemed to re-gather his composure. "I want to use my fame and money to help everyone."

Then he looked at her with those damn beautiful brown eyes, rimmed in a very thin line of black, long lashes fluttering in time with her heart. He pouted his lips and looked downright innocent and helpless; damn him.

"What?" She caved.

"Will you help me?" He pleaded, and when she remained quite, he flew from his chair to kneel; at her feet, hands clasped as if praying to her and his 'puppy-dog eye's' increased ten-fold, making him impossible to resist.

"Please help me! I have no clue what I'm doing, you're a normal person, you know how the world works; I only know makeup, clothes and stardom." He shuffled a little closer placing his warm hands on her knees, playing his sexuality card to add extra 'oomph' to his plea.

His actions had the desired effect on her and she forgot what he was asking; only knowing that she HAD to say yes.

"S-sure," she stuttered, lost in his toffee coloured eyes.

His face suddenly lit up like 'candy cane lane' on Christmas, his eyes flashing with glee and a squeal of excitement flew from his mouth before he wrapped his arms around her waist, squeezing her to within an inch of her life. 

Despite the wonderfully amazing feeling of having Bill Kaulitz kneeling between her knees and wrapped around her middle, she felt that she would split in half if he squeezed any tighter and managed to cough out a 'need to breath' to which he only loosened his grip and tilted his head to look her in the eyes.

"Thank you so much!" Once again she was pulled into the shimmering depths of his eyes but before her mind was completely gone she managed to ask herself 'what the hell did I just agree to do?'