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Walking past the dressing rooms, a shock of blue catches Shaun's eyes like a hook, stopping him in his tracks. Peeking into Jack's dressing room Shaun sees a bright blue head of hair admiring itself in the mirror.
”Whoa, Jack! Blue suits you,“ he comments as he leans against the door frame.
”Thanks, I think I did a pretty good job with it,” Jack looks at him through the mirror, a grin popping up on his face.
”For sure, it looks so real too!“ Shaun walks over to hover around him, craning around Jack.
“Huh?” A look of confusion flashes across Jack’s face.
Shaun steps close enough to feel the hair strands, testing their texture. not smooth enough to be plastic. ”I thought bright wigs like this always looked a bit hokey, but you can’t even see the edges or any lace–,“ he gives it a small tug. Jack’s head follows. Shaun’s smile freezes on his face. His eyes meet Jack’s in the mirror, both growing wide with dawning panic.
”Jack.“
”Yeah?“
”You really pinned this wig in well, buddy!“
”...“
”Jack.“
”Shaun.“
”You didn't.“
”He has blue hair in the script.“
Shaun palms Jack’s scalp to shake his head, ”he has a blue wig in the script.”
“Ah… You think they got a brown wig?”
It’s been a long day for Nick but he perks up at the sight of red patchy fur peeking over the back of one of the worn sofas. Someone must have brought their dog from home, hopefully a well trained one since it seems to be unattended. He sighs and closes his eyes as he pats the dog and gives it a scritch. He notices the texture is odd, longer than what he’d expected and a dry, stringy texture. The dog whimpers, poor thing. Opening his eyes, he’s met with the heartbroken look of Ian. A familiar sight on its own, though usually not this authentic.
With an undignified sound, he stumbles back with the force which he yanks away his hand from Ian’s head.
“What happened to you?” Nick scratches his jeans, hoping not too much of Ian’s dandruff got under his nails.
“Me,” he sniffles.
His eyes narrow to a stained box of dye in Ian’s hand.
Nick lead’s Ianby the fabric of his sweater as the two spot Shaun and Sonic in the halls, Shaun and Jack down the hall. As they pass, they say their hellos only to freeze and turn to each other. Nick and Ian’s eyes are drawn to the bright blue dome that could call down an emergency plane while Shaun and Jack stare at the shy stranger with Nick that has his hoodie strings pulled so tight, only his nose remains visible.
“Hey, who’s your friend?” Shaun gestures to the hooded figure.
“It’s okay to be nervous your first time here, it can all be a little overwhelming.”
“I'm- i'm not new,” a warbling voice, as Ian pulls down his hoodie, eyes watering.
They stifle their gasps and try not to laugh, Shaun a bit more successfully than Jack. Shaun shakes his head, mummering, “I can’t believe you both…”
“Should we shave them?”
"That is tempting."
Ian's shoulders get acquainted with his ears, and Jack pales, putting his hands up in defense. "Hey now, I think we're getting a head of ourselves here. How about we just pick up some new dye?“
Shaun and Nick take a moment to think about it, letting the other two sweat, before sighing.
”I guess we could give it a shot.“
Jack hears the snip of scissors, fallen hair tickling his face as it drifts down.
“Hey! I'm supposed to have a mullet.”
“That doesn't mean you need this many split ends.” Shaun set about giving Jack a trim, the fine toothed comb guiding his scissors.
Nick squeezes gel onto his hand and carefully traces around Ian's hair line. Jack looks over, curious and puts his hand on Shaun's, stopping him from putting in the dye quite yet.
“Ian's hair is fried, why aren’t you cutting his hair?”
“What Nick does to Ian's hair is none of my business. It's better for my blood pressure that way.”
“Hey!” Nick sends him a look of mock offense before focusing back on Ian.
Jack sighs, and accepts his fate. He watches Nick apply something across the top of Ian's forehead, along his hairline.
“What's that?”
”Vaseline so the dye doesn't stain his face,“ Nick carefully runs his fingers down the sides of Ian's face, brushing the tops of his ears as traces behind them and makes sure to cover the backs of them.
Jack nods and there's a loud snip. Loud to Shaun anyways as he watches the large swath of hair tumble to the ground.
As Nick glances up to the sight of an oblivious Jack scrolling on his phone as Shaun's eyes, blown wide, dart between Jack's head and Nick. Warily but subtly, he walks around to see what Shaun's seeing.
Nick's face mirrors Shaun's, the patch of much shorter hair like a neon sign against the rest of his hair. Nick gathers the hair off the floor and ties the bundles back in.
Shaun gives him a flat look.
“Really? You think no one's going to notice that?”
“Notice what?” They both jump at Jack's question.
“Nothing, we're just talking about the best way to strip the colour from your hair.”
With a shrug, Nick returns to Ian and Shaun pretends everything is okay, good thing he’s an actor. Maybe it's a fashion statement?
”Anyways, you can use the vaseline in a moment.“
“Nah, we don't need that. I've been dying my sister's hair for years, I'm a pro at this point,” Shaun confidently applies the colour stripper, massaging and brushing it through Jack’s hair. He glances back at the tube in Nick's hand. “Did you say that was Vaseline? Where'd you get it?”
“Found it in makeup, like the hair dye.”
“Huh, never seen Vaseline in a tube like that,” Jack watches Nick pull the wand from the clear tube and brush the substance into his hand as he does the last spot under Ian's baby hairs.
“It smells strong like it and was unlabeled with the hair products.”
“Uh, unlabled?” Shaun side eyes the bottle.
“Yeah?” Nick offers the bottle to Jack. He removes the wand and holds it under his nose, taking a tentative sniff.
”...“
“Jack?” Shaun pauses to look at him.
“I don't think that's right,” Jack's voice tight and words fast.
Shaun leans over his shoulder, taking the wand and sniffing it for himself.
“Oh. Oh no.” He puts some of it on the inside of his arm and waits a moment. A burning sensation. “Yeah, that's lip plumper.”
They all look at Ian, his hairline red and slightly swelling as his eyes water.
“It burns.”
Nick stalls out for a moment, turning side to side before he grabs the paper towel, wiping away the substance.
The group laughing over Nick’s apology to Ian.
“The prop team's gonna kill us,” Jack inspects the stolen bowls, bought not for functionality, but aesthetic.
“Then take your pick, death via prop crew, or hair and make up?” Nick mixes a bowl of dye he's combined.
“They both have their own special forms of torture,” Ian shudders.
“It'll wash off the bowls, now hold still unless you wanna walk home looking like a gumball,” Shaun carefully runs the dye through his hair. He almost fumbles a dye soaked piece of hair, catching it just before it flops against Jack's face.
Lathered up, the gang chats as they dye sets. Soon enough, it’s time to wash it out and see how it turned out. Ian sags with relief as he sees his reflection. Hair he can actually walk around with and not be embarrassed of, even if it is a few shades off from the colour the crew wants it.
“Oh thank god, you guys are a lifesaver.”
“He’s right, The hair team would have never let me what the end of it otherwise,” Jack runs a hand through his hair, admiring its return to his now artificially natural colour.
Nick props an elbow on Jack’s shoulder, “you know, the brown’s a good look on you, no wonder the fans go nuts for you. And they don’t even know your character's real name yet!”
He scoffs and pulls out a cigarette, “ I don’t even know his name yet, they won’t tell me. Besides, they go nuts for all of us, and you guys are barely even in the trailers.”
“Heh, I’m not surprised, after you leaked half of yours and Ian’s back story,” Shaun ties Ian’s hair back for him.
“That was an accident.”
Ian chuckles, “oh yeah, and totally not to impress the cute interviewer.”
He almost drops the cigarettes as Ian snickers, but before he can say anything in his own defense, the lights go out.
“...”
“How long have we been here?”
A reporter on TV tells of how four actors survived the weekend on a set that was on lock down for an unknown incident. They subsisted on only the left over catering, and their own wits. They insist at least one of them resorted to eating scraps of drywall, but will not disclose who.