the cheap black wig hung over his face -- he wore it backwards and chopped it wrecklessly so that the nappy hair covered what was underneath. (such a tease.) he opened her black kate spade clutch -- you know, the one he borrowed from her especially for that night, it went well with the white lacey number he put together for the occasion. he removed the tube of Red Revival Maybelline lipstick that he purchased earlier that day from his local CVS. popped it open. twisted the red stick out. he lifted the nappy strands away from his face and began to reapply the shade. first on his lips, then around his lips -- he wasn't looking in a mirror anyway so there was no point in being precise. he looked at his girlfriends sitting to the left of him at the foot of the stage. the music pulsating. eye contact with them.
oh, fuck it -- he began to smear the tube on his skin. here, there, on his cheek, around his lips, and his forehead. jabbing the red stick around. done.
he dropped the black hair. the tangled strands fell down over his face. he returned the Red Revival back into the clutch. and clicked it shut.
he was ready to dance again.