Disclaimer- All Mr. Larson's. God rest his soul.
A/N- My first attempt at a oneshot. R&R
Maureen stepped out the shower, grabbing a towel from the towel rack and wrapping it around her slim body. She frowned, staring at her nude reflection in the glass.
Shit, I need to lose a few pounds…Maureen sighed, and then rubbed herself with the fabric. She bent down and reduced her sopping wet hair to only half.
Sighing again, she fingered a lock of dark hair and thought of her deepest, darkest, secret.
If anyone, Mark, Joanne, Mimi, Angel, ANYONE, ever found out her secret, she would be as dead as a doorknob. Well, not strictly speaking, but she would probably be forced to quit her street artist job and forced to work at a Wendy's somewhere. She would be dumped by Joanne and be living in the street! She would die of heartbreak and loneliness because someone had found her secret!
Then again, she would probably just be forced to work at Wendy's. God, it was hard being a drama queen.
Maureen shook her head and reminded herself to think of something else as she dragged on her blood red tank top. She thought of the beautiful thing Joanne and herself did earlier, from which she was showering off.
Beautiful, beautiful, beautiful…She put on her leather pants and pulled it up to her waist, wincing as she had to suck in her breath. Maureen sighed once more, and stood staring at herself in the mirror.
A petite, gorgeous woman stared back at her, her lips curling into a half smile and then a grimace.
Maureen enjoyed making faces in the mirror.
Deciding that making faces time was over, she grabbed a blow dryer from the cabinet and plugged it into the wall.
Making sure no water was near; she turned the hair device on, liking the warmth that came from it. It was so fucking freezing in New York, she could write a poem.
But that, of course, would not be original.
Patting her hair to make sure it was drying nicely, Maureen turned the blow dryer off. Her hair now was only slightly damp; it was time to do her dirty little secret.
Maureen recalled the day she had met Joanne, Mark, and all the rest of her lovers.
They were all attracted to her boobs, no question. But the second thing they always said was, "Your hair is so curly!"
Heh. You'd think boys and girls would show different verity, but it was all the same.
Maureen reached again into the closet and drew out a small, rolled, stick like hair thing. She turned it on and angled it close to her hair, listening to it do the finishing touch to her wild, curly haired ensemble.
Joanne called from the living room. "Honey bear? Are you okay? You've been in there for almost an hour."
Maureen didn't answer her.
"Maureen?" Joanne screamed. A moment later, she said loudly, "I'm coming in to check on you."
Maureen heard the sound of feet coming towards the bathroom. She looked at the doorknob and saw that she had forgotten to lock. To late to lock it, she saw the doorknob twist and open. A disheveled Joanne stood in the doorframe. She was wearing bunny slippers and a big tee shirt, but to Maureen she looked beautiful.
Maureen saw her lovers eyes widen. Joanne was shocked to see the roller in Maureen's hand.
"Honeybear?" Joanne asked, trying not to laugh. "Do you curl you hair?
The EndA/N- You know the drill…rinse and repeat.
Also, I'm going to be putting up a new story soon about Angel after she dies. It's in the process; I should have it out by Tuesday at the latest.