Chapter 7

(Angel)

We are all here to uplift each other

"So, I'm Angel and I understand that you're new to the city," Angel said as he introduced himself to his newest client and led her back to his booth.

One thing he loved about their salon was that each stylist had scalloped back leather loveseats in their booths, each in the same seafoam green as the trim that ran around the edges of the shop. Where the hell Mona managed to find them he didn't know and hadn't asked because he hadn't wanted to be tempted into hunting down a piece for home. Furniture that shade wouldn't survive long in his house, even in his room where it wouldn't be sat on by a glittery Ajay or either roommate that came home reeking of fish guts. He loved them to death but sometimes they forgot that odors lingered, rotting marine life being one of the worst stenches of all.

"I am," Yolonda replied, "My wife and I moved from Atlanta three weeks ago and we've finally gotten to the point where we can breathe and sit down for a moment without tripping over boxes."

"Was it a promotion that brought you this way?"

"More like a brand new career and I couldn't be more excited.

"We have raspberry iced tea, lemonade, and bottled water if you'd like something to drink," Angel said. "There might be a few peach teas left in there too, though everyone and their auntie wanted one yesterday so I wouldn't be surprised if they were gone."

"Tea would be wonderful, thank you. Whichever flavor you have on hand as long as its sweet."

"No worries, hun, we don't allow that unsweetened mess in here," Erica said as they walked past her booth to pause at the built in cooler that made up one wall of their coffee nook. "Welcome to Baltimore, Ms. Atlanta, if you need any help figuring out the night life you just hit me up. I know all the hot spots."

Mona tisked from across the aisle and pointed a flatiron her way. "Including the ones that burned down."

"Don't forget the ones still burning," Kurt added, wagging his finger at her.

Yolanda was laughing by the time she'd taken a seat on the loveseat, placed her purse on the cushion beside her and twisted the top off her drink.

"You guys are something else," Yolanda said. "I already like the vibe and I've only been here a hot minute. I do have to tell you up front that you won't exactly be styling my hair, you'd be styling this."

Carefully, she drew the wig off her head, slowly revealing spotty patches of bald skin in between frayed patches of thin hair growth.

"Alopecia?" Angel asked.

"I started to notice my hair thinning right around my thirtieth birthday, a little over three years ago, and spoke to my doctor who reminded me that I'd just had a birthday and couldn't expect everything to stay the way it was when I was twenty-five. I wanted to kick him someplace that might have reminded him that he was speaking to a human being and to have some fuckin' compassion because damn."

"Would be nice to see more medical professionals remember to treat their patients the way they'd want their loved ones to be treated if they were worried that something was wrong with them ," Angel said.

Yolonda nodded at that and replaced the cap on her drink. "Until you stop to think that they might treat their loved ones the same way they treat their patients."

"And that is just one of the many things wrong with this world."

"Amen."

"Wigs are one of my specialties, I style a lot of them and help clients find ones suited to their lifestyles and the looks they desire," Angel said, hoping to out her at ease. "You're in good hands with me and if you're ever planning on a long weekend or a vacation getaway, you can book to have them all styled before you go."

"You do that here?"

Chuckling, Angel thought back to the twelve he'd styled for Bella just the day before. "All the time."

"I had to work out a side deal with my last stylist just to get him to do three for my family reunion last year," Yolonda admitted. "The shop owner strongly discouraged clients from booking appointments for wig care and maintenance and wasn't silent about voicing her displeasure at seeing them in her shop. I'd have found a new shop, but we were already planning our move, so I just stopped going in there because I wasn't about to give that heffa any more of my money, not with what she was charging her stylists for their chairs. I told Braydon, that was my guy right there, but I told him he'd be better off if he got the hell out of there even if he had to do hair in his kitchen. He was just too damned good to be putting up with the bullshit around there."

Angel shook his head, feeling nothing but sympathy for his client and what she'd had to endure.

"Was he able to give you anything at all to help treat the hair you have left?"

"No, he knew of Alopecia, but not anything past what it was and the damage it caused," Yolanda explained. "I have to give it to him, though, he started researching and we both started learning together. To be honest, I've given a lot of thought to shaving the rest off, but I wanted to make sure I had some kind of scalp treatment in place before I did."

"If you're comfortable with me bringing Mona in to consult, she's the owner of the shop and has worked with more clients with Alopecia than I have. She may have some product advice that I'd never consider," Angel replied. "She organizes a hair loss support group specifically for female identifying individuals, but she won't bring it up unless you ask her about it. Don't feel like she's gonna come back here and try to rope you into joining either, she's not like that, but she will welcome you with open arms if you decide you're interested."

"Sweetie, you had me at support group , because I can use all the support I can get," Yolonda said. "My wife is wonderful, but neither of us know how to handle…"

He could see the tears welling up in her eyes, her voice a bit choked by emotion as she patted her chest and blew out a long breath. "When I look at myself without the wig and see those patches of hair sticking everywhere, there are times when I can't remember who I was let alone who I am now. Getting in the bed at night with it off, I know she doesn't see me differently, but the way I see myself makes it hard to be intimate and she doesn't deserve that."

"Neither do you," Angel said.

She fanned herself with her hand, tears shimmering, but not one fell despite the way her lip quivered and she paused every few words just to breathe.

"When I started scrolling for shops, all I could think was please, please let me find a place that would know how to help me ," Yolonda said. "Then I saw this picture with a drag queen on stilts and four stylists on ladders braiding the longest wig I've ever seen. Even Rapunzel trusts her locks to the crew at Savvy n' Chic. That's what the tag underneath said. If I was ever going to receive a sign, that was it right there. Period. Point blank. I told the receptionist to give me the very first appointment available."

"And here we are."

"Yup. So, if you think your Ms. Mona can help me, then please ask her to step back here so we can talk. I would love to know more about her support group and any advice you can give on scalp treatment."

"Perfect, let me just go get her," Angel said, leaving and returning moments later with Mona, who took a seat in his chair while Angel perched on his stool and opened the bottled water he'd grabbed.

"Angel tells me you're interested in scalp care," Mona said, all business but in that gentle, let's get to the heart of the issue so I can help you, tone that made it so easy for so many to open up to her. Yolonda repeated her story, including several pieces she hadn't shared with him. The snippet of conversation she'd overheard, where the salon owner had made an ignorant comment about her hair condition, infuriated him and left him listening with a keen ear in case she dropped the name of the place, but she never did.

He'd have loved to call the shop and give that owner a piece of his mind, or better still, enlisted the combined ridiculousness of Ajay, Shanny and Leith, to unleash a campaign of telephone hijinks that would have left her lines tied up for days.

After she'd finished speaking, Mona and Angel locked eyes and Angel gave a little nod because they'd worked together long enough that they didn't need a conversation to know how to proceed. Angel pulled his clipboard off the hanging chain beside the mirror and plucked a pen with fuzzy orange hair covering the cap from cup of googly eyed, bobble headed pens, and sat poised to write with it.

"Let's talk about today," Mona said. "Were we looking at a style for an event or something for everyday activities? If that's the case, it helps to know how active your day is. Are you running around constantly or perched behind a desk. Do your days fluctuate when it comes to where you are and what you're doing. Are you more ‘chic and simple' or stylish and in need of fluffing a few times a day? Or were you just wanting to get a feel for us before you placed your hair in our hands?"

"I miss this me," Yolonda said as she tapped the screen of her phone then turned it to show her smiling with her arm around a laughing woman, the pair barefoot and kicking water at one another as they stood in a fountain, water jets shooting up behind them.

Yolonda's hair had been swept into a double twisted updo, both buns positioned like round ears at the top of her head, tendrils of hair curling down from each side. With her teardrop shaped face, the classic look accented it perfectly, and allowed for easily added accessories and embellishments. Like the sparkly pins that stood out against the coal black strands in the photo, a sparkly pendent dangling from the center of her forehead, a glint of light off the stone giving it a hint of sparkle.

"Monday will be my first in the new office, but Saturday night is their annual Gala and I've got a silver and gold rhinestone comb shaped like feathers that would match the one and only gown I've unearthed since the start of this move."

"May I take a look your wig?" Angel asked, turning it over the moment it was in his hands, so he could get a look at the cap construction. "It's perfect for that style."

"Really?" She said, eyes widening a fraction. "I was afraid that I'd need a new one, which after this move, I can't afford just yet."

"No, I can take care of the styling right now," Angel offered.

"Oh, sweetie, if you can do that I'd forever be in your debt, thank you," Yolonda said as Angel settled her wig on one of the mannequin heads and carefully began separating the strands.

"We'll give it a wash, blow dry it out and have you styled for your event and your upcoming week," Angel said as he began setting up his workstation.

"And while he works, we can talk more about the kind of scalp care you're interested in," Mona offered.

"Are you sure I'm not going to be intruding on someone else's time?" Yolanda asked.

"Not at all," Mona said as she checked the time on her phone. "My next client isn't due for another thirty minutes and my station is already set up for her."

"You guys are fabulous," Yolonda declared as she stood to follow Mona. "It was so hard to pick a place to call. The internet gods truly smiled on me when the search engine showed me that picture."

"We're always happy to hear that," Angel said as he bent his head to his task.

Once he'd carefully combed out the wig, he took his time to wash it, grateful for the mini chair, with its clamps and straps, that Billy had specifically designed to keep mannequin heads from slipping while he worked on the wigs they held. He truly was a genius with metal and a torch. The fact that the chair clipped to the sink, and reclined the way a real one would was brilliant and showed off just how much creativity his friend had when he wasn't burying it beneath silence and brooding. It was a shame he couldn't flex his skills more at his job, but it was no secret how much they undervalued him. It only fed into his insecurities and long-held belief that his scars meant he should hide himself away where no one had to look at him. Sometimes he did it with Angel and the rest of their housemates, despite how often they made it a point to show him what an important part of their lives he was.

Before those marks had been left on his face, he'd been as flirty as Shanny and as outgoing as Ajay, which had made it a double shock when he'd allowed himself to be suckered in by the bastard who'd put them there. His name was taboo in their house, not that they didn't think about him every time Billy retreated into a cloud of depression. They did have a running list of the horrific things they'd love to do to the man, some of which would put the acts in Saw to shame. They never would, of course, but they could dream, and sometimes that was enough to turn a somber moment into laughter and a game of one-upmanship while they each scrambled to outdo the another.

Tiny still had the best plan for doing away with him, though it was by far the messiest and most disgusting…and disturbing one they'd thought up. Backing over him with the car had been bad enough, but running the remains through the bait grinder and using his bits in the crab pots was proof of just how much hatred Tiny held for the main who'd not only harmed his best friend, but irreparably changed him.

The act of washing hair was as cathartic as the act of massaging conditioner into the strands, taking care not to apply any to the roots or the cap beneath. The mini-chair made it an easier and more natural process, and allowed him to set it beneath the hair dryer the same as if it was on a client's head. For as much as he appreciated it, there were times when all he could think about while using it was the smile on Billy's face when he'd carried it into Angel's booth as they'd been closing shop for the night, his hood pulled up to minimize who saw his scars. He wouldn't even allow Angel to show the others until after he'd left, and when he'd made a matching one for Mona, and later the one Kurt used, he'd insisted on sending Angel to the shop with them boxed and loaded in the car, so he wouldn't have to face their praise.

Breathe.

Do not think about Billy or the way he'd eyed the same dark-haired hottie at the bar as Bella had. Or the way neither had been on a proper date for so long that he'd found himself wishing they were a proper fit for one another, if only so two of the most important people in his life weren't lonely and longing the way Angel had been before Dion arrived at Bella's.

Not just visiting either, but home for good and staking the claim on Angel that Bella had finally seen fit to inform him that her brother had longed to do for years.

Years.

Pressing a hand to his chest, Angel took a moment to let that fully sink in before checking the wig. Nearly dry. Just a few more minutes needed.

Fanning himself, Angel tried not to think back to Saturday night and the way Dion had made love to him, ‘cause holy shit, there was nothing in the definition of fucking to describe what the two of them had done.

Passionate. Wild. But with the kind of attentiveness that showed Papi was about more than the conquest. Invested, that's what Dion had been. Through the night and the four soul shattering orgasms he'd wrung from Angel, he'd made it a point to not only discover what he liked but talk about the things he didn't like. Their flirty pillow talk had revealed that Dion had no problem with Angel needing something to sooth his senses and blot out his thoughts before he could sink into any sort of play space, especially if there were others in the room. Part of that was because he didn't regress as far in age or in the way he spoke to his Papi as Shanny and Ajay. He didn't like to play with children's toys, but he did like to push limits and loved all the kinky implements to be found in a Doms' toy bag.

Submissive, yes, right down to the very tips of his toes, but in the past his submission had been hard won and several dominants had found him too challenging a submissive to handle. Much as several Doms had passed on playing with Tiny when he was decked out in pup gear, they'd passed on Angel the moment he didn't kowtow to them and act eager to kiss their boots. A different sort of attention-starved, he'd been willing to wait and accept it from someone for the right reasons, rather than jump the first time a wannabe offered it. Unfortunately, seeing Billy, Ajay, and even Shanny get burned had left him even more gun shy, which was why he was so grateful for the years of video chats he'd shared with Dion to help form a friendship. He'd never have been able to jump into a relationship so fast without it.

Holy shit.

That's what it was.

Finally.

At long last.

An actual, honest to god, relationship.

Now if that wasn't a swoonworthy morsel to process.

Another check of the wig proved it was dry. Angel turned off the machine and withdrew the chair from beneath it, settling down on a stool in front of his vanity so he could get to work. He'd just finished brushing it out when a smiling Yolonda returned to his booth with a small brown bag dangling from one hand and her once patchy skull shaved smooth and glistening from the natural oils and botanicals Mona had rubbed in to ensure that it stayed moist.

"Wow," Angel remarked, not just at the amazing job Mona had done, because the woman's work was always gold, but because of the change in Yolonda, who no longer looked tentative about being in the shop.

"Now I have the option to go without my wig, once I work up the nerve," she said, awe in her voice as she looked at herself in the mirror.

Her smile, which had been hesitant before, was bright and radiant now.

"Something tells me that you will sooner than you think, especially with the heat wave they're predicting for later in the summer."

"Lord, if it is anything like the Atlanta heat, I'll be happy with just a scarf on my head."

"I've never been to Georgia," Angel admitted. "But I've seen how hot it gets from looking at the weather map on the news and I'll pass, thank you very much. I was not built to live in a sauna."

"Neither am I, which was one of many reasons I was excited to move north."

"And bring all the south's sweltering heat with you," Angel remarked, flashing her a quick grin as he swept the first piece up, gently twisting as he began creating a bun.

"Opps."

They laughed together like they'd known each other for years, united in the sacred code between client and stylist: that making her look good meant he looked good, especially when all her friends gushed over what he'd done.

"So, what's this job that's brought you and rising temperatures from Hotlanta to Charm City?"

"I'm spearheading the development of a new performing arts center involving the old Carter building," Yolanda replied. "And I couldn't be happier with the progress that's already taken place on the renovations."

"Wait, so that's what's going in there?"

"If all goes as planned the unveiling will take place in time to launch next year's summer stock theater season," she explained. "Until then, my job is recruitment. We've got to find music teachers, dance instructors, theater directors, scriptwriting instructors, the list goes on so long that I've stopped numbering the additions. This Gala is only the first of a series of events we have planned leading up to the unveiling, and with an art gallery in the works and interest in both beginner and advanced classes, I'm going to be one busy lady."

Oh, the internet gods had truly been kind, and not just to Yolonda. "I feel you, hun," Angel said. "I'm spearheading an event to raise funds for a new splash pad for Brabham park. It's good to see this part of the city getting the attention it deserves."

"Mmmm, I heard about that at the city council meeting the other night," Yolanda said. "Good for you. These kids out here need someplace to go where they can just be kids."

"Exactly," Angel replied. "Especially when school is out. Everyplace wants to offer after school activities, then balk at setting up anything for the three months when kids don't have classes to occupy the bulk of their day. It's ridiculous and completely unfair in an economy where it takes two parents just to pay the most basic bills, let alone any frills and extras."

"Right," Yolonda said. "The first thing we did was look into grants and the funding we'd need to ensure kids wouldn't be turned away. I hate seeing the children that need it most left out every time something new comes to the neighborhood."

"Amen to that."

Even before he finished the wig, he knew he was going to enjoy having Yolonda for a client, and not just for her sense of humor, but because she was as passionate about the future of the next generation as he was.