A few minutes later, I was certain that Scott was right. I was a magician with hair.
I swiveled Alina around so she could see her reflection in the mirror and her mouth popped open.
She stood up and leaned in, running her fingers through her angelic white locks.
“You— oh my God, you’re magic!” she exclaimed, jumping up and down.
“It’s perfect,” Scott gasped, joining her at her side, parting it and checking the roots. “How did you do this, Charlie?”
I shrugged modestly as I blushed and said, “Practice?”
“The roots are white, too!” Alina said, leaning forward to examine her part. “This is the most incredible hair work I’ve ever seen!”
She twirled around to face me, fixing me with her bright green eyes. “If I get this part, mark my words. You’re coming onto the set with me. I want you and only you to be my stylist.”
I wanted to deny her, to say that she didn’t owe me anything. I wanted to tell her that even though I was amazing at hair, my skill with makeup was okay at best. And for accessories and clothing? I barely had the confidence to be sure of what I was wearing every day, let alone having the responsibility to dress a star.
But I pushed all those thoughts out of my mind just as I’d pushed all those Grindr guys out. And I looked her in the eye, smiled, and said, “Okay. If you get the part, I’ll come on the set with you and be your stylist.”
Never in my wildest dreams did I think Alina would actually get it.
A week later, she called me in the evening.
It was another soft evening in L.A., just after the heat broke and gave way to the chilliness of the desert night. My window was open and my white curtains were swaying gently in the breeze.
I’d deleted Grindr off my phone entirely and was sitting down on my cozy couch, having just finished dinner. Since I’d just finished the last of my other shows, I finally decided to start watching The Black Castle.
Five minutes in, my phone rang.
“I got the part,” Alina said breathlessly.
“Alin—”
“I GOT THE PART!” She screamed. I could hear some other screams in the background too; it sounded like she was with a bunch of friends.
“Alina that’s amazing! Congratulations!” I said, sitting up straight.
“It’s because of the hair!” She gasped, “Your hair!”
“Honey, it’s not my hair,” I said, the smile reaching my eyes so fiercely I thought my face would crack. “It’s your hair, and it’s your acting that did it!”
“No, they told me I was a good actress and all, and they had me up for consideration against a few others,” she said breathlessly. “And they told me that ultimately, they chose me because I had ‘the hair color that matches the character in the book!’”
My mouth dropped open. I’d done it; I’d changed someone’s life with my work.
Feelings of deep fulfillment purred throughout my body and tears beaded in my eyes.
“I’m so happy to hear that Alina, I can’t wait to see what you do on The Black Castle!” I said, blinking a few times. The tears were rolling down my face, following the contours of my cheekbones.
“You’re coming with me, Charlie,” she said, her voice shifting to a serious tone. “I need you on the set with me to keep my hair this way.”
I froze. I didn’t actually think that she would fulfill her promise. I thought she would use my services, get what she wanted, and then disappear into the ether just like any other client.
But here she was proving me wrong. And the fact that she wanted me, that she was offering me a leg up into the world of stardom was downright terrifying.
“I’m sure they have a stylist on set that will keep your hair that color and do your makeup,” I said, feeling the fear flow through me.
“No, I want you,” she said, her voice losing its innocent timbre.
“I don’t have that much experience with styling, with women’s clothes. With makeup, I’m just okay.”
“I’ve seen your makeup, you do a fine job,” she said simply, batting my fears away.
I clung to them even tighter. “But I’m a nobody at some random salon in east L.A., and I don’t know how to style.”
“I don’t care about all of that Charlie,” she said, exasperated. “You did this to my hair, you can do it again. I’ll get you help from other stylists if you want it — we have the budget for that. But I know for sure no one else can do to my hair what you did.”
My midwest modesty pawed at my insides, longing to downplay her compliments. I wanted to say the truth — that it was how her hair naturally took to the bleach. It was her own stunning beauty that won her the part, her own decision to keep her striking black eyebrows.
But now wasn’t the place for modesty. Now was the time to own up to what I’d really done, which was give her the confidence she needed to get that role.
“Okay, I’ll do it,” I said with a lurch of fear in my gut. “Where do I meet you?”
A few weeks later, I was somehow stepping through the doors of LAX into what felt like a dream.
For the past few weeks, I’d been emailing the producers back and forth in a thread with Alina. She demanded to have me on set with her, and they surprisingly agreed to whatever she said. My eyes felt like they bugged out of my head when I saw the amount of money they were offering me to stay on for a season.
I’d never had that much money in my life.
It still hadn’t sunken in, and I was expecting to wake up at any moment.
When I read the contract, I felt anxiety swirl in my gut as I read about the expectations. I was going to be traveling to foreign cities around the world, working twelve-hour-days. It
