Paper Dolls by Emma Pullar

Author:Emma Pullar [Pullar, Emma]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Bloodhound Books
Published: 2019-03-27T16:00:00+00:00

Chapter 13

Mike’s New Job

Lady Vajazzle, AKA Donald, was standing behind Mike with her arms crossed over her tremendous bosom. Mike lowered the make-up brush and studied his friend’s reflection in the lit-up dressing room mirror. He could feel her frustration bubbling over, and half expected her to grab the brush from him, and start fixing his make-up the way she’d envisioned.

‘It needs to be bolder than that, Micha.’

Mike ignored her. He wasn’t some exaggerated reflection of the female form; he was the female form perfected. Mike went back to making himself up. Donald tutted and the late comedian Robin Williams sprang into Mike’s mind, hyper cartoon voice ringing in his ears. Call that a makeover? Mike drifted into a daydream involving an animated fairy godmother with the comedian/actor’s voice, who had appeared from nowhere and started scribbling over Mike’s face before using a powder puff on him, filling the room with powdery clouds. Mike coughed. White puffs of smoke distorted his reflection. He waved his hand in front of his face, irritated. ‘There’s no smoking inside!’ He pointed to a peeling non-smoking sign on the dressing room wall.

‘I’m not smoking, I’m vaping.’ Trev, the owner of the club, puffed on an e-cigarette beside him. Mike waved the last remnants of smoke away, thankful that it at least smelled of candyfloss and not tobacco, he leaned closer to the mirror and dusted his cheeks with sparkly pink rouge.

‘Ever heard of popcorn lung?’

Trev puffed on the slim black tube, blowing more white clouds from his thick lips. ‘Could get hit by a bus tomorrow.’

Mike applied silky pink lippy. ‘That’s everyone’s excuse for doing abusive things to their body.’

‘And pickling the liver is a perfectly healthy choice.’ Trev grinned.

Mike puckered his lips and admired his pout in the mirror. ‘We all have our vices, I guess.’

‘That we do. Anyway, shouldn’t you be buttering me up if you want a job here?’

Mike slid off the make-up chair, smoothed down the front of his golden Belle inspired dress, and curtsied to the club owner. At over six feet tall and with arms like boulders, Trev could be mistaken for a bouncer. ‘Thank you so much for this amazing opportunity, Lord Trevor. I’m truly very grateful.’ Mike fluttered his false eyelashes. ‘Is that enough butter for your popcorn lungs?’

Trev let out a deep throaty laugh. ‘It’s a good job you’re pretty.’

Mike picked up the hairspray and moved his arm like he was spraying a halo around his head. The synthetic smell of the strong lacquer filled his nostrils. It was a smell he associated with the theatre, that and the musty aroma of thick stage curtains and old costumes rarely laundered.

Trev tipped his hat, allowing his wild hair a few seconds of freedom before jamming the hat back down on his frizzy locks. Mike took the hint and exited. He liked chivalry. Trev was not interested in him sexually, he knew that much, but it was nice to feel special. So many people in London walked with heads down, or barged past with sour faces.

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