Makeup and Hair

Oliver adjusted his hair just a touch in the mirror, before closing his locker. He felt he was ready to face the day.

Turning on his heel, he began walking to first period, otherwise known as chemistry class. He loved chemistry, mostly because he finally got to know about all those ingredients making the hairspray he used. Typically, he only used organic products, but it was the only hairspray that could keep his hair looking just so; the gel wouldn't cut it.

As he walked, through all of the chatter of students in the hallway, he could hear a very distinctive sound coming from the girl's bathroom.

It sounded like crying.

Stopping, he pressed his ear to the door, and sure enough, there it was again, a whimper. Not full-blown waterworks, but enough to know something was wrong.

Oliver knocked on the door, hoping whoever it was would answer.

He heard sniffing, then a shaky, accented voice, "H-Hello...?"

"Violetta?" Oliver asked. "Is that you in there?"

"Olíver?" She asked.

"Yeah, it's me...I'm coming in, okay?"

With that said, Oliver pushed open the girl's bathroom door and stepped inside.

This wasn't new territory for him, he had been here many times before. He even changed for gym class in the girl's locker room. The girls never had a problem with him being in those rooms, they all knew Oliver was gay, and they all liked him, he was fun.

There was Violetta, hands over her face, leaning against the sink. She still shook with tears.

"Letta!" He surged forward, stopping right beside her. "What's the matter?"

"The girls...Cheerleaders...They..." Her words trailed off.

Oliver raised an eyebrow, "What? What did they do? Violetta, if they so much as laid a hand on you I swear to God-!"

She cut him off, "They wouldn't leave m-me alone."


She turned to face Oliver.

"Oh, my..." He covered his mouth in clear shock.

Her hair was a tangled mess, sticking up and down everywhere. Her makeup was smudged all across her face, her mascara coming down her cheeks, along with the still wet tear tracks. Then there was marker, all sorts of different colors, all over her face.

"Did they...?"

Violetta nodded. "I don't know how to fix it. I c-can't go out looking like this, I-..." She broke down into tears again, sinking to her knees and burying her face in her hands.

She felt a soft touch take her hands away from her vandalized face, and just hold them there, the fingers caressing her tanned palms gently.

Looking up, she found herself seeing Oliver giving her the most sympathetic and caring look she had ever seen.

"Honey," His eyes twinkled. "I'm here."

His embrace felt warm and safe, as if he could shield her from everything horrible in the world. Sometimes she forget why they'd been best friends for so long, and it was moments like these where she remembered.

"Now..." He released her, still keeping his gentle grip on her hands. "All that crying can't be helping your mascara, can it?"

Violetta laughed. She couldn't help it, Oliver was just the one person who could always make her smile, even on the darkest days.

Standing up, and helping her as well, Oliver reached into his purse-like backpack. "You are lucky I always come prepared, Ms. De Luca." He produced a small case. "I keep it for when one of my girls has a bad day."

Opening it, she saw a tube of lipstick, eyeliner, blush, and mascara within.

"Although, occasionally I enjoy accentuating my eyes a little bit with the eyeliner." He began inspecting his hair in the small mirror.

Violetta cleared her throat.

Snapping out of it, he set the case down, "Sorry, force of habit."

"That's really great you have that, Olíver, but my hair is still-"

A finger was brought to her lips, "I've got it covered."

Before she knew it, makeup, a bottle of hairspray, gel, a comb, a hairbrush, and a small compact containing a powderpuff were lined up on the edge of the sink.

"Do you keep an entire salon in there?"

Oliver chuckled, "One can only dream."

A thought occurred to her, "You're going to be late for class."

Shrugging, Oliver turned her around to face the mirror, wetting a paper towel with water from the sink and dabbing at the marker and makeup on her face. "It doesn't matter, you're my best friend, you were in need of help." He gave her a friendly peck on the cheek, "Personally, I think this a perfectly valid reason to be late, or possibly even miss class."

She smiled, glad to have such a great friend by her side, as Oliver removed the last traces of anything from her face.

"Now, let's make those little cheerleaders wet their frilly panties when they see how fabulous you're going to look."

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