Chapter Text
Jax felt the soft bristles move against his cheek.
God, he hated this.
He felt the brush gently and gradually move from his cheek to his jawline, then across his chin.
He hated how it tickled. How abnormal it felt. How it wasn’t as awful as he had imagined it so many times before - that number which he would take to the grave with him.
The NPC mannequin in front of him set down the brush, and to Jax’s dismay, picked the lipstick back up. It was a dark, moody shade of red.
He flinched back slightly as the NPC raised the cosmetic. She paused when he did so, raising an eyebrow.
“I… d-didn’t you already do that?” He scoffed, clearly trying to sound annoyed. Which he was, but the only thing he didn’t desire to show was how nervous he really was. The fact that he could recognize that he was legitimately scared of a little makeup just pissed him off more.
He huffed, avoiding the figure’s gaze as he mindlessly fiddled with the dark violet fabric of his dress. Yeah, his dress. Which he definitely hated too. Just as much as the rest of this situation.
“It’s smudged a bit.” The NPC replied simply. “You sweat a lot, y’know.”
She moved the lipstick back towards his pout and hesitated a bit, as if she were waiting for him to jump. He didn’t.
Jax wasn’t sure how to reply at first as she did her work. That also made him mad - he always has a snarky response to everything, but now that part of him is just… gone. He felt similarly when he first got put in the maid dress during that softball adventure a while back, which made him physically shudder every time it came to mind.
He shifted uncomfortably in his seat. He really didn’t want this. He didn’t want to be played with and customized like a doll. He didn’t want to feel… vulnerable. Like she was peeling him apart and discovering some sort of dark secret underneath the layers that he didn’t want her to know. Something he didn’t allow himself to know.
But Caine threatened Jax with drastic, world-ending consequences (an ear of corn) if he didn’t follow the adventure, so it couldn’t be helped, he supposed.
“A-are you almost done?” His voice came out a lot more pathetic and quiet than he intended. He internally cursed himself out, but the mannequin didn’t seem to judge his humiliating demeanor.
“Yes, love, just about.” She replied softly with a smile. Well, Jax couldn’t literally see her smiling, but he could hear it in her voice. “You’re doing wonderful.”
It was almost over.
It was almost over.
Oh, thank Caine.
He bounced his leg impatiently for the next few minutes, feeling relief, anxiety, a little frustration, and maybe even something else…
Excitement?
…oh, no, no, no, no. Hell no.
This was not for him. It would never be for him.
Makeup was for girls. Uncomfortable violet dresses were for girls. Having someone touch your face and curl your hair and stare at you for hours was for girls.
And that wasn’t him. He knew that.
Yet for some unknown reason, he felt himself deflate a little whenever he faced it.
… what was the matter with him?
Jax snapped out of his panic when he felt a gentle tap on his shoulder. He blinked and immediately turned his head up to face the NPC once he remembered where he was.
“What?” He responded both a little too quickly and a little too loudly.
The woman was silent for a moment, it almost seemed as if she were observing him. Like she knew too much. Stop looking, freak.
“Well, I… I finished.” She said slowly, almost sounding commiserative. “...I just noticed you were shaking. Like, a lot.”
Shit.
She hesitated a bit more, somehow looking concerned despite her lack of actual facial features. “I just wanted to make sure you were doing alright–”
“I’m fine.” He said shakily, just barely interrupting. The tone of his voice said otherwise. “I… you said you’re done, or whatever?” He said, trying to change the subject and somehow keep up his Jax persona after that mental rollercoaster.
She seemed to immediately shift back to her previous pleasantness. “Oh yes, you look absolutely darling.” She gushed, starting to turn the swivel chair to face the mirror.
… “Darling.”
That stood out to him for some reason.
He snapped himself back in again and forced an eyeroll. “Yeah, yeah, don’t expect me to keep this stupid stuff on or anyth–”
The moment his gaze hit the mirror, he cut himself off.
Whatever thoughts that were guiding his speech before completely vanished.
He wasn’t even sure if he was breathing.
In the reflection, he saw a figure with sharp, black eyeliner, a sultry look - despite her shocked expression. He saw her contoured face structure, her soft, red lips, her swoopy purple locks that looked so perfect they must’ve been drawn with a pen. Her cherry blush, her indigo eyeshadow, the single painted black mole next to her lip.
His eyes drifted down. Her dark sequin dress hugged her in all the right places. The deep-cut neckline, the lack of sleeves, the skirt length, the curves… wait, how did they do that?
Jax looked back up, staring dead into her eyes.
Was that really him?
“...Huh.” He said stupidly. He didn’t notice or silently correct himself for sounding awkward this time. He didn’t do anything, in fact. He just continued staring.
The makeup artist watched, looking a bit nervous. “Ehm, is it alright? You like it?”
Jax was just conscious enough to respond in actual words, but his eyes never moved. “I… uh, you did fine, I guess. Thanks. Or something.” He was too conflicted and enamored to even notice the shocking event of him uttering the word “thanks” and showing any form of appreciation.
Suddenly, a loud knock at the door disrupted the moment.
Jax quite literally jumped in his seat and immediately spun his head around to stare daggers at the sound source. Oh god, no one better see me like this, I swear-
The rabbit and the NPC heard a familiar voice on the other side of the door. “Uhh... Jax?” It was Zooble. Their tone was deadpan, per usual. “We’re ordering drinks and food at the bar, you want anything?”
He was too surprised to respond for a moment, before practically hearing their eyeroll from the other room. “Also, don’t take this the wrong way.” They added. “Pomni insisted we get you something, ‘cause she ‘sees something in you’ or some bulls#!t like that. If it were left up to me, we’d let you starve.”
Ah, there it is.
“Awww, Zoob, that may be the nicest thing anyone’s ever offered me.” Jax enthused, his tone dripping in sarcasm. He contemplated for a moment. “Uhh… get me the stupid cocktail or somethin', I dunno.”
Zooble made a noise. “...Uhm? Jax?” They began cautiously, “...You know what that stupid stuff did to Ragatha that one time, right? That’s not… not really ideal –”
“Eh, I need to take the edge off.” He interrupted, sounding oddly calm. He glanced in the mirror again, barely able to strain his eyes away. Yeah, he definitely needed a distraction. Something to calm his brain. “You asked, you deliver. Chop-chop.”
He heard them sigh. “Weird choice, but alright, I guess… a cocktail’s pretty girly, y’know. I’m surprised you’d have the guts to ask me for that, of all people.” They taunted, unable to resist the urge to poke fun at him.
Jax blinked.
His initial reaction would’ve been annoyance. Maybe a playful jab or a pointless middle finger. Ugh, he should’ve done that. Something. Anything.
But with her…
He stared into the mirror again.
…it felt different.
Like, Zoobs was right. That was pretty odd of him. He’s pretty sure he’s never even had a cocktail, just beer and other stuff that totally screamed “pinnacle of masculinity”. Yet the cocktail, the thing he had always seen as feminine, just felt right in the moment. Like instinct. It’s not like he could imagine a girl like her hogging down a Miller Lite.
No. She deserved what she felt was right. What she wanted, not what he was supposed to want.
“Jax? Hello?” Zooble interrupted his thoughts loudly. God, he was spacing out a lot today. What was his problem? “Geez, can you say something? It was just a joke, I didn’t think your masculinity was that fragile–”
That hit a little hard.
“I’m fine. Just – got distracted.” He interrupted. He put his mask back on, speaking in a dramatic, teasing tone. Act like Jax. “Uh, yeah, get me a cocktail. Stupid cocktail. I assure you I’m tough and tolerant enough, darling.” There that word was again. “The absolute pinnacle of masculinity. I mean honestly, I’m surprised you –”
“Alright, alright, don’t act like pretending to be a heavyweight is gonna impress me or something.” They cut off. “Just… seriously, dude, it’s intense. I’ve tried. Don’t come crying to me when you’re too high to not f#%k yourself over.”
“I’ll f#%k myself over a hundred times before blessing you with my flattery!” He cheerfully taunted as he heard their footsteps leaving the door.
Jax waited in silence for a moment before he could tell Zooble was definitely gone. He released a deep breath he hadn’t realized he was holding before looking back at the NPC, who had gone silent throughout the brief exchange. The room’s ambience felt a bit awkward.
She cleared her throat. “Well, uh, while I’d love to stay past my welcome, I have some other clients I oughta get to.” The figure moved toward the door before speaking once more. “Anything else you need?”
He already had his eyes on the mirror again. “...Eh, nah, I’m good.”
“Alright, darling. Just let me know.”
There it was again. For the third time.
Before he could react, he heard the door click shut, confirming she had gone. He glanced at it for a fraction of a second before immediately turning his focus back to himself. To her.
Jax wasn’t sure if he had ever felt more confused and caught off guard in his life. And the fact that he could just… admit to that, too? With only a little shame?
He sighed.
He had a feeling he had an idea of what was going on, of what the full truth was, but he couldn’t face it yet. That was far too much for one day.
But her. The nameless, beautiful girl staring back at him. It wasn’t Jax, he knew that… but it felt like him. She somehow seemed like a completely different person, acquiring a completely different soul, yet he would stay trapped in that soul forever if he had the chance. While it felt different and weird, it also felt… really good.
This was one of the first times where he just felt peacefully sat in the moment. He didn't worry about what the others would think. He didn't worry about the crippling reality of his life. He didn't worry about all the little moments he'd previously lost that he'd never get back.
Just him and herself.
He slowly raised his hand to his face, his fingers gently touching his cheek as he stared into the mirror. They gradually fell down a bit.
…Darling.
The word came back. It was endlessly spoken in soft words, over and over inside his mind, like a broken record. It was feminine, it was graceful, it was stunning, it was real. Realer than anything else had felt in the circus for the past 6 years. It didn't feel manly, but it felt like him. Like her. Like he’d lived in her body before and somehow knew how it felt.
…If this is what being “darling” felt like, he never wanted to take the headset off.