chapter twenty-two

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A/N ; When a song is mentioned in the text, try playing it from some sort of device as you read - it helps imagine the scene and sets the mood
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TWENTY-TWO - 1992, London.
Day One : To Dance With A Girl

"ALRIGHT, HUDSON." AVELINE sighed, running a hand through her newly dyed hair. The green and blue was now a more naturally toned color, sauntering a coppery, light brown - or ginger, as Saul teased repeatedly. After the concert the night prior, Duff and Aveline took to the blonde's hotel bathroom with a large bottle of bleach and some hair dye. As promised, Aveline re-colored Duff's ratty locks, and he watched her through the large wall mirror as she painted her temporary blonde with a shimmery copper. "What's the plan for today?"

It was the first free day of the bands week-long vacation - and also the first day of Aveline and Saul's challenge. Aveline was almost wary of it's outcome; she knew for a fact that when Saul wanted sex, he didn't care which girl it came from, so she was cautious that if the whole 'falling in love' idea were to miraculously work, he'd cheat and fuck it all up.

"I'm not sure, Ginge," He giggled, "Why don't you tell me?"

"Quit it." She grumbled, rolling her eyes. They were gathered within the kitchen department of their shared hotel room, Aveline leaned against the wall as he swung his legs back and forth upon the counter. He snickered again and shook his head, holding up a single forefinger before speaking quietly.

"I have one more joke." He stated, referring to the color of her hair.

"Get it over with." She sighed, unable to fight the bemused grin spangled onto her lips.

"I just think you're lookin' a little like Bowie, y'know?" He stifled, smiling brightly with the crows feet deeply dented into the outer corners of his eyes. She rolled her eyes and held up a bold middle finger, sticking out her tongue as he chuckled and hopped down from the side, podding over and wrapping his arm around her shoulder, softly planting a kiss on the side of her head. "But, it suits you, Babe."

"Isn't the whole point of this week to make us fall in love?" She scoffed. "'Cause at the moment, you're repelling me worse than Axl and his naked ass."

He laughed heartily and nodded in agreement, shaking his head lightly as he attempted to come up with a suitable idea that would somehow lure Aveline into his heart and him into her's. He hoped that together, they could coax enough romantic bullshit that formed what others could consider a relationship, and eventually - with hope - love.

"I've got an idea." Saul stated after a moments silence, taking a few steps away from Aveline a she raised a curious eyebrow. "Steve should be landing at around seven, right?" She nodded in response, having helped the curly haired man to book his friend's flight during the early hours of the morning. "So, if you wanted to, I'd let you give me a fuckin' makeover in time for his collection."

Aveline thought for a moment, picturing Saul as a girl, caked excessively in pounds and pounds of cheap make up, and a dress and heels. "A makeover?" She grinned cunningly. "What kinda makeover?"

"The kind that makes me look all fucking pretty and shit." He motioned his hand to his face in a circular motion, "One that makes this," He wiggled his eyebrows. "An even hotter mess than it is now."

"Can I pluck your eyebrows?" She questioned, running a finger along the satisfyingly nicely shaped hairs, bushy and wild above his admiring chocolate orbs.

"You can do whatever you like, Leanie." He smiled. "I'm a blank canvas."

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