Page 96 of My Lucky Star
His eyelids dipped at the mention of sleep, and he pushed himself upright. “Maybe,” he said begrudgingly, casting one last look at Savas before he left.
The hairdresser ignored him, digging through his bag for supplies. As he walked to the sink, Melis stepped in. “Did you see that?” she whispered.
“You mean that murder-y look? What’s going on?”
Melis smiled. “I knew it! He’s jealous.”
“Who? Cem?”
“It’s a Turkish thing. Men are very protective. Territorial. It can be a little... overbearing. It means you’re not just friends.” She stared at me all starry-eyed with a beaming smile.
I shook my head in disbelief. “I live in New Zealand. None of this is... real.” I drew a breath, trying to discard the strange feeling. “So, you used to work with Cem?”
Melis shrugged. “I was only the wardrobe girl. A nobody. But he was always nice to me. That’s Cem. We were all a little in love with him. If he ever looked at me like that—” Melis glanced over her shoulder at the direction Cem had gone. “I’d faint. Seriously. Cem Erkam. He’s just...” Her eyes burned with a level of devotion I would have reserved for someone immortal, or someone with particularly useful superpowers.
“Do you know Burcu?” I asked, trying to focus on the job at hand. “Can you give me any tips on how she would move or gesture? I’ve only seen her in that TV show. I don’t even know what she looks like right now. There are no recent pictures online.”
Melis looked surprised. “I saw her last week. I brought her some clothing samples. She’s lost a bit of weight, but you’re right, no one’s seen her, so it doesn’t matter. Her hair is the same, but I think Savas will take care of that for you.”
I stood up, perching my hands on my hips. “But how does she stand? Does she move her hands when she speaks? I’m so nervous about this.”
Melis cocked her head, examining me with her lips pursed. “Too... masculine.”
I dropped my arms to my sides.
“Too awkward. Burcu would always hold something.” She handed me the clutch I’d placed on the table. I wrapped my fingers around it and tried to relax my shoulders.
“That’s perfect. I can see why Cem looks at you like that. There’s so much Burcu. Love like that never goes away.”
I nodded, a lump swelling in my throat. To my relief, the hairdresser returned, guided me back into my seat and dressed me in a sleeved cover that reminded me of a hospital gown. Melis brought me a new glass of tea and left me with him, taking another tray with two tea glasses to Cem and Emir.
I twisted my fingers into a knot, wishing I had my phone, or even a magazine. My nails, hidden under the black cape, were in danger again.
Savas didn’t speak much English. Answering even a simple question seemed to cause him so much stress I gave up and closed my eyes, trying to stay sufficiently awake so I wouldn’t fall over.
I shouldn’t have worried about staying awake. Savas wasn’t the gentle type. In fact, I’d never been in so much pain at the hairdressers. For some inexplicable reason, applying highlights started with rigorous back combing. After the foils were in place, he told me to wait there and left the room –probably for a cigarette break, based on his unmistakable smoker’s smell.
Upon his return, he walked me into the bathroom to rinse my hair with the help of a portable hairdressing sink and the shower head. I grit my teeth as he tugged at my locks and massaged my scalp so hard, I felt like my head was in a vise. The pain didn’t course through me entirely without pleasure but delivered a confusing mixture of sensations. I wondered if he was punishing me for something Cem had said or showcasing what kind of lover he’d be. A hair-yanker, definitely. Fast and rough.
I sighed with relief when he finally took me back to the kitchen for blow drying, but my comfort was short-lived. The cloud of tangles created by the back combing had to be undone, so Savas (or Savage, as I now called him in my head) put his veiny arms to work, applying more strength than he would have needed for pulling dandelion roots.
When my hair was finally finished, I had tears in my eyes.
“What is wrong?” He asked me. “It looks very... amazing.Çok güzel.”
He removed my cape and swiveled my chair, which didn’t really swivel but scraped against the floor, and walked me to the floor-to-ceiling mirror in the hallway. I gasped.
Approaching my golden reflection felt like an out-of-body experience. The woman in the mirror wasn’t me. With her golden dress and sun-kissed ombre waves, she belonged to Burcu’s Instagram feed. I studied myself as if from the outside, floating over my own shoulder like a lost little ghost.
I wiped the moisture from the corner of my eye and smiled. “Thank you. It looks beautiful.”
Savas grabbed my shoulders, maybe to straighten my spine, or to show how much strength he held in his fingertips, and that’s when I saw Cem. He appeared in the mirror, by my side. Savas anticipated his move, stepping out of the way just in time to avoid a collision.
“Are you crying?” Cem dabbed his thumb on the corner of my eye.
“No. Just... emotional, I guess,” I whispered, peeking over my shoulder to see that Savas had gone. I saw him through the dining room doorway, packing his gear.
“Why? What happened? Do you want to cancel this? I’ll talk to Emir—”
