Page 155 of Invisible Bars

To feel like I belonged in the space I was being brought into.

“All done!” the hairstylist announced ten minutes later.

The hairstylist spun me around so I could face the mirror..

Gone was the undone ponytail, the frizz, the stress tucked behind my ears. In its place was a sleek, side-parted sew-in—full, shiny curls cascading just past my shoulders. The style was elegant but still chill—exactly what I needed for dinner at his mama’s house.

“Okay, curls! Come through, bounce and body!” Dessign chimed in, spinning her wheelchair in a half-circle like she was hosting her own makeover show.

I gave her a nervous half-smile, lightly tugging at a piece of the curled sew-in. “It’s not too much?”

“Girl, no! Perfection at its best! It’s not too much, not too little—just enough to say, ‘Yes, I’m that wife. Respect-me-or-regret-me!’”

My head jerked once. “Wife—goals—microwave toes!”

“Okay.” Dessign nodded a bit confused. “That was the Tourette’s hyping you up. I approve. Now just wait ‘til we hit the face beat!”

She snapped her fingers, gaining the makeup artist’s attention.

Dessign was in the room playing event coordinator, glam team manager, and bodyguard all at once.

“Oh, honey! You’re already a snack, but once I’m done with you, you’re gonna be the whole damn charcuterie board!” the makeup artist declared, spinning a fluffy brush between his fingers like it was a magic wand.

He was flamboyant in the best way—lace-front laid, nails done, and lashes so long he probably had to blink in slow motion. But his energy? Sweet as iced tea in August.

I nodded stiffly, too nervous to speak. I had no idea what flawless looked like anymore. All I knew was that my stomach felt like it had a mini blender running inside it, and my brain wouldn’t stop spinning through worst-case scenarios.

“Remember, deep breaths, Naji!” Dessign encouraged with a teasing grin.

Dessign and I didn’t know each other that well yet, but she treated me like I wasn’t breakable. She made room for my tics, my trauma, and still joked with me like I was just another girl trying to figure shit out.

I took a deep breath, feeling a wave of calm wash over me as the makeup artist gently applied a cool primer to my cheeks. His fingers danced lightly across my skin, creating a soothing sensation.

“Gotta give the canvas some love before we paint the masterpiece,” he said with a wink.

Next, he focused on my brows, meticulously brushing them upward with a tiny spoolie. His head tilted in concentration, and I could see the precision in his movements.

“These brows are going to be sisters today, not twins—adorable sisters, like those who share clothes and rise above the drama."

I couldn’t help but smile, nerves still fluttering in my stomach but easing a bit under his gentle rhythm. But I sat still—well, still as I could—and watched my reflection transform in stages.

Neither he nor the hairstylist flinched at my twitches or when I paused awkwardly as a tic escaped, causing me to blurt out something completely off the wall. They had been thoroughly briefed about my condition—there was no pity in their eyes, no hesitation; just a quiet grace that put me at ease.

The makeup artist leaned in closely, carefully giving my face one final sweep with a soft brush, making sure every detail was flawless. Then, with an air of theatricality, he reached for the setting spray, shaking the bottle vigorously, as if preparing to cast a spell that would hold my look perfectly in place.

I sat there, trying not to flinch, as a cool mist clouded over my skin.

“All done, love!”

“I’ll wait to look until I’m dressed,” I murmured, voice calm but stomach still doing flips.

“Fair enough! But just know… you’re about to cause a minor emotional earthquake when you walk in whatever room you’re about to tonight!”

I gave a tight smile.

As the thick mist settled around us, Dessign rolled up in her stylish electric wheelchair, squinting at me with an exaggerated expression of disbelief.

“I said to make her fine… not finer than me! Now I have to roll out of here and reevaluate my entire existence!” she exclaimed, her voice dripping with playful drama.