August 2003
Schemer tore home in a complete panic. No one would believe him if he said he was 'just cutting his curl off'. He collapsed behind the door after storming inside. What could he do?
Wheezing slightly from the mad dash, he was struck with an idea.
"Genius time!" He exclaimed, and felt a sting of loss at his old catchphrase. It reminded him of what he had just lost. It just wasn't the same without his curl. However, he still moved quickly to his room. He pulled a box out of his closet, and ripped the top off. It was his old box of disguises. He dug around for a few seconds before pulling out an imitation curl. He had a fake one, it used to sit on the mannequin in his old room at his mom's house.
It would have to do. He just needed a wig.
He had put in an order for a wig through a high end store the very next day. They were highly reputed and would be able to make a real human hair wig to match his old colour and style. It cost a lot, but it would be worth it.
Today he was at an appointment. Sometimes there were good days, and sometimes there were bad days. Today wasn't a good day. Usually the procedure was uncomfortable at worst, but today was one of the days where nausea was taking control. He was heavily relying on the bucket that they provided him and kept it close at hand, while the IV dripped the poisonous medicine into his veins.
After the procedure was finished, they let him recover for a little bit longer as he was quite dizzy and still feeling like he was going to be sick if he stood up. He sat there, on the procedure table, the toxic machine sitting next to him and a bucket clutched in his hands for dear life, feeling pathetic and weak.
And that's where she found him. He looked up weakly from where he sat at rock bottom, to see her descending down to him. The angelic curls framed her face still and her concerned eyes made him smile weakly.
"Welcome to my secret, Ms. Jones."
The Stranglers - Golden Brown
