The things we don't see

Sentiments knew nothing about dishonesty and somehow those bastards were the masters of all the lies. Reality is mostly built on feelings.

Reality is nothing but a lie

Just like Kayra's new haircut.

Okay she gets it, all that dramatic entrance and a haircut is the issue? Let her explain it:

"This is great... great as the initials on my grave!"

"Oh darling, I don't understand why the fuss, this suits you"

Across the mirrors, she glared at the stylist. Natalie was her name, Kayra would need to remember the name of her assassin. This wasn't her making a fuss, this was her staring her reflection crafted by memories she vowed to have forgotten. Normal people took supplements to improve their memory. She wasn't a religious person, but gods if she didn't prayed daily to own nothing but her present.

"We have to change it" That was it, another couple of hours enduring questions she wouldn't answer and chemicals awakening allergies out of her nose and everything would return to normality.

Sweet Natalie blinked, Natalie was an older woman with even more older lashes, shades of black and pink were so over her that it was almost impossible to distinguish her real skin. "Change it?" She also talked as in a permanent conversation with a baby.

"Yes, change it, redo it...burn it, or whatever process to get it out of my head"

"Well, honey..."

"What?"

"It's not the easy, once the roots of your hair are so much coloured, a bleach..."

Patience is a virtue, people often say. Kayra had had many problems during her life, the one who has remained constant? Listening what people says "Meaning?"

"We need to wait some weeks before I can start over again"

"Weeks" Her mouth said that word once, her brain, however was transformed into a wheel whose only direction was aimed at those weeks. Very infernal weeks.

"As I had mentioned, you look..."

Raising a hand she cut her off "What about the length?"

"Amazing?"

Her face fell flat to the counter, an asymmetrical bob falling along her "Tell Celina it would be amazing if she pays for this. Because honey? I am not paying a shit for my own funeral"

With a rusty cough, Natalie answered "The payment was made right after your friend signed you up"

Her friend...

It had all started with a chat with Celina, 4 days ago.

"So you are married for what...6 years now?"

"Counting this year? 10 actually"

Celina had whistled, if anyone asked about her, the official response would be : Time obsessed, heart breaker political journalist. And yeah, she was indeed obsessed with the nomadic nature of the hours, unless personal relationships were involved. Then it was her the nomad "How old are you again?"

"30"

"And you have been living with the very same man for all these long years?"

"Yeah?"

"Wow, he must be a marvelous thing"

With a sigh, Kayra had remembered that even the silly questions had a purpose with her friend. Or so she repeated every time Celina made a silly question "He is, do...do you realize that we are talking about Ciaran right? Ciaran the best friend of your... what is Adam now? Boyfriend? Enemy?"

"Partner in bed"

Of course "Exactly, so you kind of know him?"

"Duh, he's my hottest bestie"

"Then why are you talking about him as if you didn't knew how's he?" Please let the purpose come quickly.

"Because it's you who doesn't know him"

"Pardon?"

"Men like changes, even a man with Ciaran standards. And I am just saying that with 10 years of marriage, you could surprise him a bit. I mean he married you...he deserves it"

That wasn't the first time, Celina did a talk about the monotony of her life. And while her previous answers were as romantic as saying: we are each other's surprises. This year in particular was reluctant to poetic confessions. It had been another loss...

The third miscarriage for her, the third row of shattered dreams for the two of them. She still remembered being struck by the happy glow surrounding her husband's face when she told him, about the pregnancy. What came later was so obscure that it was the best to not mention it. Routine did the rest.

The art gallery of Ciaran was about to open a new location in Abu Dhabi, and her hard work in the law firm had paid off, she was now a senior partner. Their days were busy, their nights somehow still crazy. Everything was going well.

But she had accepted Celina's proposition nonetheless.

"Let's start with a style makeover"

And so she was convinced to change her style blindly.

Literally blind

Another item to add to her friend description: Dramatic. If Celina Reese did something, she had to do a movie plot out of it. Like telling her that the best stylists of the city would do wonders on her, all while she was... blindfolded. The perfect plot for a bad movie.

And bad was the outcome, walking, correction... wandering around the windy crowd of the streets of Cambridge, she slapped away the intromission of the daylight. A cap hat was her current favourite companion, just like it was to ignore her husband's calls.

Why the fuss?

For starters?

Her long waves, were now weirdly chopped off.

To finish?

She was a redhead again, gone was the rich caramel of all the past years. Fire was fuming all over her.

And she had no idea what to do about it. The wig solution was always present, but she had a trauma with wearing wigs, she had also a trauma with red things.

Being trafficked had the most uncanny effects. There was the physical and psychological damage, and there it was the life lasting stigma that you created around yourself. For Kayra, it was the later what marked her the most. Activities, thoughts, random choices weren't hers. Not totally, not as she pretended. All of them were still influenced by what others did with her.

And now she was wearing that stigma on her head.

Why the fuss, indeed.

"Hiding yourself?"

She cursed between a smile, in her attempts to run away, she had walked right into her husband's arms. Feelings and lies again.

Being in the library next to his office at the university had nothing to do with such curious encounter.

"Finding me?"

Ciaran nodded, with the same intensity one makes an official oath "Always"

"Well, maybe..."

"There's something different"

Eyes closed, she braced herself for what was about to happen.

And what happened was introduced by a kiss on her cheek "I like it"

"Wait, what?" Eyes widened, Kayra found her husband smiling.

"It suits you"

So they keep saying... "But I have never wore read as your wife, and you loved my waves..." She fell silent as Ciaran removed the hat from her, his hand covering one side of her now weird hair.

"The only thing I want you to wear, is the title of my wife, as long as we live. That's all I care about"

"Maybe you are not seeing it. It's horrible"

He pulled her against him and laughed "Love, I am blind, of course I don't see it...I just have to feel you"

There was a thing about sentiments, when you're left with nothing. Not even your sense of vision...

You can always rely on what you feel.