“I told Bodhi I’d take you out to buy hair dye,” she said, reaching out to finger a section of my roots. “And babe, judging by this situation, it’s beyond overdue.”
I was too caught off guard to be offended.
“You spoke to Bodhi?” I asked, folding my arms around my middle.
She dropped her hand and shrugged. “Yeah. He asked me about it yesterday and looked like I’d just explained rocket science. Like, he really thought you just grab any old box of colour and hope for the best.”
The image of Bodhi standing in a pharmacy, wide-eyed and overwhelmed by an aisle of hair dye options, made my mouth twitch despite myself.
“So,” Trix continued, rocking back on her heels. “What do you say to a pamper night in my room?”
The thought of staying here alone any longer made my chest tighten. Even if I took a couple of pills and tried to sleep, the room would still feel too big. Too quiet. Too empty without Bodhi filling the extra space.
“Okay,” I murmured, brushing a piece of hair behind my ear. “That, uh... that sounds good.”
“Perfect,” she said brightly. Then she reached into her pocket and pulled out a black card, holding it up between two fingers. “Bodhi gave me this earlier and told me to get whatever we need.”
I spotted the American Express logo, his name printed neatly in the corner. Something warm unfurled in my chest, soft and unexpected, easing just a little of the leaden guilt sitting in my stomach.
“I’ll get changed and meet you in the lobby,” I said, gesturing vaguely at the rumpled clothes I’d slept in.
“Deal,” Trix replied. “Throw on your rattiest tee and comfiest bottoms. We’re doing this pamper shit properly.”
“Fuck, these are heavy,” Trix huffed, shifting the plastic bags from one hand to the other.
“Pass one to me,” I offered, even though my own fingers were already screaming, red and aching from the weight digging into them.
She waved me off. “Nah. We’re almost there.”
We spilled out of the lift onto Half Life’s floor and half jogged down the corridor to the room she was sharing with their guitarist, Bella. The moment the door closed behind us, wedumped the bags onto one of the double beds and collapsed beside them in a heap.
“I think . . .” Trix said between breaths. “We may have gone . . . overboard.”
I glanced at the four bulging plastic bags. Hair dye in multiple shades, face masks, nail polish, under-eye patches, and enough snacks and fizzy drinks to survive an apocalypse. The contents were already spilling out onto the duvet where the bags had finally surrendered.
I shrugged. “Guess we’ll have to commit.”
“The old college try,” she said solemnly.
I snorted. “Did you even go to uni?”
“Nah,” she replied, sitting up and stretching her arms above her head. “Parents got divorced. I lived with my mum in Birmingham. She wanted me to go eventually. I met Bella at a local performing arts college, and we quit halfway through second year to start the band.”
“Sounds fun.”
“Fuck no,” she laughed. “It was brutal. Took forever for anyone to notice us. We eventually moved to London, and my mum begged me weekly to come home.”
“What about your dad?” I asked, fishing a packet of cheese and onion crisps out of one of the bags.
“Haven’t heard from that asshole in years.” She stole a handful from my open packet. “He left when I was ten and moved to Benidorm. Last I heard, he was running some dive bar for sunburnt Brits and had spawned a few kids with an unlucky tourist.”
I crunched thoughtfully. “What a charmer.”
Bella joined us about half an hour later, fresh from dinner with their bassist, Ryan. She leaned in and kissed Trix, careful toavoid the indigo dye dripping from her hair. My eyebrows shot up before I could stop them.
“Never seen two girls kiss before?” Trix teased, nudging my leg with her toes.
I swatted her thigh and went back to scrubbing faint pink splotches from my neck with a wet wipe. “Fuck off. I just didn’t realise you two were a thing.”
