Chapter 11: Boyfriends And Hair
Trace was glad music class was over, though he was very pleased with himself for making his classmates feel uncomfortable. The rest of the classes went by in a flash, and he suddenly found himself back in the dorm room with Mal and Evie. Jane was also there as company, sporting a new hairstyle, courtesy of Mal. As soon as Trace found a place to sit down, he continued reading his book, overhearing Jane saying something about something her mother told her. It sounded more like complaining and whining to him.
"So my mom said a boy's not worth it if he doesn't see beauty from the inside," Jane said. "You believe that? Who does she think she is? What kind of world does she live in anyway?"
"Easy, she lives in Auradon," Mal replied with honesty and sarcasm.
"A kingdom in ruins once we're done with it," Trace tossed in under his breath.
While Mal was talking to Jane and Trace was reading his book, Evie was sewing. She held up what she was working on for opinions from Mal and Trace.
"M? Trace? You like it?" Evie asked.
"Yeah. Good as usual, E," Mal observed.
"It's cute. I'll say that much," Trace added. "Although I think you could add some other shades of blue to it. Just a suggestion, that's all."
Evie nodded. "Thanks, M. I appreciate it." She looked over at Trace. "You did say other shades of blue, right, Trace?"
"Yes," Trace confirmed with a nod of his own.
"Okay. Just checking. Still not a bad idea, though."
Jane reverted the whole conversation back to her. "I'll never get a boyfriend," she fretted.
"I wouldn't worry about it if I were you, Jane," Mal said, trying to bring comfort to her. "Besides, boyfriends are overrated and annoying."
"You've never had one, Mal," Evie commented. "So how would you know?"
"Well, for one thing, E, I don't need one," Mal said, defending her opinion on boyfriends. She pointed at Trace and added, "And not only that, but he has a tendency to scare boys off when they try to flirt with me."
"There is nothing wrong with being protective of you, Mal, you know that," Trace reasoned. "You're not just my friend. You're my best friend. You, Evie, Jay, and Carlos. All four of you are my best friends."
"Look, I appreciate you looking out for me and all, but I can look after myself."
"All right, but don't you dare blame me if I'm not there to back you up."
"Trust me, I'll let you know."
"Mm-hmm, I've heard that before."
Evie's eyes suddenly got big. "Oh no! I almost forgot, I still have to do Chad's homework," she gasped, rushing out of the room.
Mal sighed and shook her head. "And that right there is exactly what I'm talking about."
Trace slammed his book shut, not realizing his hand was still inside it. What was that what Evie said about doing Chad's homework?
"You should've dealt with him the first chance you had," a mysterious voice from out of nowhere suddenly said, making Trace jump and look around, finding just Mal, Jane, and himself in the room. That struck the two girls that were still present as very odd.
"Trace, are you okay?" Mal asked.
"Yeah. Yeah, I'm okay," Trace replied. "I just... thought I heard something."
Jane and Mal exchanged confused looks. "What do you mean?" Mal questioned as soon as she looked back at Trace. "We're the only ones here."
Trace scratched his head. "Yeah, I realize that. I must be imagining things."
"Yeah, I'd say so, because I can see you closed your book on your hand."
Trace looked down, seeing his book not entirely closed due to his hand still being inside it. "Oh. I guess I did. Heh heh." So he slid his hand out and closed the book completely.
It wasn't like Trace hurt himself doing that. No way. He had a high tolerance for pain. How so, one might ask? Nobody had a clue.
But again, what about that voice that told him that he should've dealt with Chad when Trace had the chance? He knew that voice. It was the same one that demanded his arm back at the museum.
Francine. Trace's dead mother Francine. Her ghost. She followed him. She may have even possessed him. Wait, no, that couldn't be right. Francine was a ghost, not a demon. Ghosts were nothing more than lost souls wandering the earth, not exactly sure what happened that put them in such a ghostly dimension. Demons were said to have come from Hell itself, supernatural beings that supposably had no real physical form.
What exactly was Trace experiencing then?
"That boy is a Charming, you hear me?" Francine's voice snarled. "He's a royal piece of trash that needs to be punished for all the injustices the people of the Isle Of The Lost have faced for the past 20 years. So here's what you're gonna do, boy, and I hope Razelle Fitzherbert sees what happens."
How Francine knew about Razelle was beyond Trace.
"Don't even worry about waiting for him to mess with you first," Francine went on. "The next time you see him, drop him where he stands. I don't care if there are witnesses. You're gonna do it regardless, and if you don't, not only will I find someone else who will, but I'll torment you like this until the day you die."
Nothing like being threatened by a ghost. Eternal torment from the spirit of his mother from beyond the grave was the last thing Trace wanted.
That aside, Chad was indeed the son of Prince Charming and Cinderella, and evidently, not all that bright. While music class was still going on, Trace had to use the restroom. On his way back to class, he heard Evie and Doug talking as he passed by the chemistry room. Interested in what they were talking about, Trace eavesdropped.
He couldn't see them, but he was still able to hear them. The only one he was able to see was Chad. Trace heard Doug tell Evie that Chad was the son of Prince Charming and Cinderella. He would take over as ruler of Cinderellasburg once his mother and father stepped down. He inherited the throne, but not the charm, according to Doug. That was the confirmation Trace was needing.
Trace had no problem with dealing with him. He hated royals, especially if they were from Auradon. Kings, queens, princes, princesses, Trace hated them all. If dealing with them would benefit him, his friends, his family, and his fellow Hell Raisers MC members, then so be it. It was all about revenge, and Trace would do just about anything to get it, including slaying some people if that's what it came down to. He had his machete-sized knife and bare hands fully at his disposal. If he had the chance, Trace would've also brought one of his handguns with him for extra assurance, just in case. Before Trace could continue to think all about this guidance (read: manipulation and torment) he was getting from the spirit of Francine for this revenge plot of a sort against Prince Charming, Cinderella, and Chad, another girl came into the room. It was Lonnie, the daughter of Mulan.
"Hi, guys! I'm Lonnie. Mulan is my mother," Lonnie introduced herself. "So listen, I know you hate us, being evil villains and all, but I love what you've done with Jane's hair. I was… just wondering if you could do my hair, too."
Mal, Evie, having returned with Chad's homework, and Trace all exchanged a confused look.
"Why? What for?" Mal posed.
Lonnie held up a bag with money inside it. "I'll pay you $50 to do it."
The $50 worth of money in that bag got Evie's attention. Lonnie handed it over to her, who then tossed it over to Trace.
"Smart move," Evie said. "But first, I need to go get some more material." She looked at Lonnie's hair in contemplation. "Let's see here. Hmmm. Okay, I'll tell you what we're going to do. Highlights, maybe some layers, probably get rid of those bangs…"
"No, no, no, no, no, not that!" Lonnie interrupted. "I was thinking making it look cool. Kind of like Mal's."
Mal sat back up when she heard Lonnie say that. Evie just looked at her.
"Wait, you mean even the split ends?" Evie questioned.
Trace laughed. "That's going to leave a mark."
Mal complied with Lonnie's wish. "All right, let me see what I can do." She took a deep breath. "Beware, forswear, replace the old with cool hair."
Mal waved her hand in several different directions while making Lonnie's hair change its appearance. After that happened, Lonnie took a look at herself in the mirror and gasped at the sight.
"Yeah, I know what you're thinking," Mal inferred. "Now it looks like you're wearing a mop as a wig. Better yet, let's just cut it off and -"
"No, no, no, no, no, no! I love it!" Lonnie disagreed.
Evie looked at her in disappointment. "Wait, you do?"
"Is there anything else you can do that will make me look even cooler?" Lonnie wondered.
"No. I wish I could, but I can't," Mal sighed. "My magic isn't powerful enough. Sorry."
Lonnie nodded in understanding. Then Jane came up to the mirror and ripped her dress at the leg. She ended up regretting it just as quick. She gasped at what she did.
"What did I just do?" Jane shrieked. "My mom's gonna kill me for this!"