Fallen Angels (UNEDITED)

XXVII

I am the fire
I am burning brighter
Roaring like a storm
And I am the one I've been waiting for
Screaming like a siren
Alive and burning brighter
~ Halestorm, I Am The Fire

The flight was like any other flight, okay service and a liveable landing.

The band left thirty minutes to go to the meeting at their record label, leaving me alone in an unknown home on the side of the city I was unaware of.

Yes, I knew LA had a suburb.

Have I ever visited? Not until now.

Their house is tiny, just a bungalow with two bedrooms on the main floor and a basement along with an attached garage. The house looks like what you expect a typical bachelorette pad to look like; minimum mismatched furniture, empty fridge except for a few bottles of condiments and beer, and we can't forget the massive ass flat screen in the living room.

Erik told me they would be gone for most of the day when they dropped me off. I already unpacked the clothes that I brought and it wasn't even two yet.

I could go shopping and just tell them to meet me in the city when they were done.

I could really go for a makeover, a new start.

With that idea in mind, I shove my feet into my vans, and sling my purse over my shoulder, while ordering an uber.

I google the best hair salons in LA as I wait for the uber to show up, many results saying close to downtown LA.

Perfect.

The ride from the band's place to downtown is full of awkward silence as I don't do small talk. I've never been great at it, and maybe because I always allowed Will to do the talking and I just sat there with a smile plastered on my face.

The salon is full of the upper class wives. The doctors, lawyers, and CEOs; woman who have never worked before, much like my mother.

She would fit in here nicely.

The perfect nails and hair to disguise what really happens to behind the perfect closed doors. The drinking and the arguing, but you would never know it unless you were behind the closed doors after midnight.

"Hello, welcome to Chic Boutique, do you have an appointment?" The pretty receptionist with the perfect figure and botoxed face looks me up and down with a disgusted look on her face. I can already tell she is going to throw me out, but my hair is in a state of emergency.

"Yes, I don't have an appointment, but I was wondering if there is any way you can fit a Lexington in for a hair appointment? I've been travelling for the last couple of weeks and my hair has been neglected and I'm in desperate need of your help. My mother would be ever so grateful if you could help me out." The woman's eyes light up after hearing my last name and her body language changes from standoffish to welcoming.

My mother still has a rather large impact on the beauty world as she has collaborated with top makeup lines and brands such as Coach. Anyone who is anyone in the beauty industry has either tried to contact or worked with my mother.

"We can definitely help you out, Miss Lexington, take a seat in the waiting room and it shouldn't be more than a fifteen-minute wait. Can I get you some sparkling water?" The receptionist rushes back to her colleagues and I can see them whispering back and forth to each other.

They will probably want a photo done for their Instagram or have me somehow promote them.

I really need to change my last name, get rid of the Lexington brand.