Chapter 4: Hairography

So here's what you missed on Glee.

Mr. Schue made the glee club do ballads as partners with one another, which didn't really work out very well since with Melissa, the glee club has an uneven number of members, so he had to do a duet with Rachel, who kind of seemed to like him. A lot.

Artie got paired up with Melissa and they did a ballad together which was super nerve wracking for Melissa since she was really into Artie and he didn't know it, and then he chose a romantic duet for them to sing, which sort of makes sense since as Kurt said a ballad is a love song.

Then Melissa finally confided in Kurt and Mercedes that she thinks she likes Artie after finding out that he and Tina aren't really together and that Tina kind of broke his heart, so she thought she might finally have a chance with him. One can only hope anyway, right?

And that's what you missed on Glee!

The look my parents gave me when I emerged from my bedroom on Monday morning said it all.

I could feel them staring at me as I flitted around the kitchen making breakfast and humming to myself—Oh Oh I Love Her So by the Ramones. I pushed my long blonde hair out of my face as I spread butter on my toast, careful with the still partially wet nail polish on my fingers. I bit into my breakfast with an exaggerated expression, not wanting to smudge my lipstick.

It was Mom who finally broke the silence: "Missy, what are you wearing?"

I turned to face my parents, spreading my arms out so they could see me better. "Do you like it?" I asked.

"Uh…" was all my dad had to offer.

"You said that I should reinvent myself when we moved to Ohio, so I found this in the back of my closet and thought it would be a nice change of pace."

"It's, uh, it's very…" my mom started, but my dad interjected.

"Loud."

"Look, Melissa, it's great that you're branching out and expressing yourself, but…look, I'll be honest here, I'm just a little confused. You seem like you're finally at peace here. You've joined a club, made some friends—just on Friday you spent the night at the Hummels', even though I thought I'd never let you sleep over with a guy—"

"Kurt's gay, Mom," I interjected.

"My point is, I just want to know what's gotten into you." My mom stood and came over to me, gesturing to my clothes. "You've changed your wardrobe…" She then started holding my chin in her hands. "You're wearing makeup…" From there, she grabbed one of my hands. "Pink nail polish? Who are you and what have you done with my daughter?" she finished as I snatched my hand away.

My dad suddenly sat up straighter, a gleam in his eyes. "Isn't it obvious, Beck? Our little girl is in love."

"Dad…" I said, embarrassed, but it was too late. My mom had already latched onto the idea and her eyes lit up in excitement. I couldn't quite tell, but it almost sounded like she squealed at the idea.

"I mean, she's dressing differently, humming love songs…" He took a deep breath. "Is that perfume?"

"It's nothing, okay?" I snapped, trying to shut the conversation down. "It's just for something we're doing in glee club."

Why was I not able to just tell people the truth about Artie? It wasn't that I was embarrassed of him, not really. I suppose maybe it just had to do with the way that my last relationship had ended, as I couldn't come up with any other explanation for what was making me so secretive.

But the truth was, my dad was right. My wardrobe change wasn't because I was looking to revamp my identity or to do an assignment for the glee club—though admittedly, I did feel a bit like Rachel in it. It was because I was interested in Artie, who had just sort of broken up with Tina, and me and the other girl had incredibly similar senses of style. If I was to get his attention, I had to do something drastic.

It definitely seemed to work…in a way. When I walked into glee club that day, Artie's eyes were definitely on me. He had been wheeling himself across the room but looked up when I came in, essentially freezing in his chair with his eyes locked on me as it kept moving.

Unfortunately, he was not the only one staring. Nearly everyone in the room was giving me a weird look. Finn was staring at me the same way I had stared at my Spanish vocabulary quiz; the cheerleader Santana, who had referred to me as "California" the week before, simply had her mouth open in disbelief; Rachel's mouth had also fallen open, and her eyebrows were scrunched together in a weird way, sort of like I had shown up at school in a lobster suit.

It was the dumb blonde cheerleader, Brittany, who finally broke the silence by addressing the loudmouth diva herself: "Rachel, that was so nice of you to let Quinn's sister borrow your clothes."

Kurt broke away from the huddle of students around the piano and grabbed me by the elbow, dragging me to a chair. "What are you doing?" he hissed in my ear.

"I just thought I'd give myself a little makeover," I said. "Why is everyone freaking out?"

"You're wearing a mustard yellow skirt."

Mr. Schue came into the room and started writing on the board, forcing everyone to their seats. Some stole a few glances from me as they sat, though most waited to hear what Mr. Schue had to say. Kurt continued to hiss in my ear as our teacher scribbled something on the whiteboard. "I'm all for ditching the grunge look, but this is not the way to go," he said. "I told you that I would take you shopping for new clothes."

"Yeah, no offense, Kurt, but nobody can afford your style, plus it's not really my thing."

"Neither is what you're wearing now but you seem perfectly content with it. Wait, are those striped fishnet stockings?"

I didn't have time to argue with Kurt more, as Mr. Schue started talking about getting us prepared for sectionals coming up in a few weeks. He reminded us that our competition was going to be the glee clubs from the Jane Addams Academy and the Haverbrook School for the Deaf. I admittedly was more than a little confused on how a deaf school was to compete in a singing competition, but kept my mouth shut. Most of the rest of the club didn't seem to think that either school was going to be much competition.

The majority of our time together was spent running through dance routines, something that was more than a little difficult in my wardrobe choice for the day, but also something that I found myself enjoying. I had never thought of myself as much of a dancer, but I picked up the steps with ease. Now the question was whether we would actually be able to put together a setlist for the competition, since we hadn't yet decided on any songs. There was also the question of whether we would even keep the dance moves we had just learned, since Mr. Schue caught Brittany snapping pictures on her phone.

I had been planning on trying to talk to Artie when we were finally dismissed, but Kurt and Mercedes got to me before I had the chance. They stood one on either side of me, forcing me to go with them.

"What are you doing?" I asked.

"Come on," Kurt said. "It's time for some girl talk."

I rolled my eyes, but let them lead me into the girl's bathroom, which Kurt seemed to have no qualms about going into. I leaned against the sink, folding my arms across my chest. "What's the big deal?" I asked.

"Look, I know that the reason you're dressed like this is because you're crushing on Artie," Kurt said. "The question is just, why?"

"Why I like Artie?"

"Why you're dressed like this."

"I just thought that I'd try to do something to get his attention, that's all."

"Oh, you got his attention, alright," Mercedes said.

"Melissa, you don't need to change yourself for a guy. Especially not one who dresses as bad as Artie does," Kurt said.

I frowned. "What's wrong with the way Artie dresses?"

"He wears a belt and suspenders at the same time."

"Maybe because he can't feel if his pants are still on?"

"Mel, if you want to change the way you look, I'm all for it," Mercedes said. "I just want to know if you looked in a mirror before you left the house?"

I finally turned around to see what was so wrong with my appearance. I had on pink lipstick and nail polish, a pastel tie dyed shirt that was tucked into the mustard yellow skirt that Kurt had hated so much, the striped fishnet stockings, and a pair of black and white Vans with a rose pattern on them. In my hair was a single pink and black butterfly clip pulling my bangs out of my face.

I sighed and turned to face my friends again. "I look awful, don't I?"

"It's not that bad," Mercedes said, but Kurt said, "Yes," at the same time.

I sighed yet again, grabbing a paper towel from the dispenser to wipe away my smudged lipstick. "Look, I talked to Artie the other day and he said that he isn't dating Tina, which is great for me since that means he's available, but you both know that me and her dress the same way. I'm never going to get his attention without doing something like this."

"I wouldn't say it's the same," Kurt said. "You're more punk whereas Tina is more goth. Very similar styles but the nuance is important."

"It doesn't matter anyway, okay?" I said, wadding up my paper towel and throwing it in the trash. "He's never going to be interested in me. I totally made myself look like an idiot in front of him when we were practicing our ballad."

"Plus today showing up dressed like that," Kurt said, pointing at my skirt, his other arm across his chest.

"Wait, I saw you two rehearsing and he seemed totally into it," Mercedes said.

"Yeah, but before you came in, I ran my mouth and said a lot of really embarrassing stuff, and I think I let slip that I wanted to be his girlfriend—"

"What?" Kurt and Mercedes said at the same time.

"It's fine. We were talking about music and it just slipped out. It's a Ramones song. Sort of. Anyway, point is, I don't have a chance with him so I might as well give up."

"Look," Mercedes said. "I'll be honest, I'm not at all surprised that you like Artie. He's nice, and sweet, and you guys make a great team. But if he doesn't like you for you—wardrobe and all—then I'm sorry but he's not the right guy for you."

I looked down at my feet, thinking over what Mercedes said. I felt so embarrassed. God, were those tears in my eyes? I sniffled, wiping my nose with the pad of my thumb before looking back up at my friends. I shook my head and let out yet another sigh. "I'm such an idiot."

"Don't dwell on it," Kurt said. "We've all done stupid things for love."

"I threw a rock through Kurt's windshield once because I liked him and he didn't like me back," Mercedes said.

I gave her a strange look, but before I could ask what that meant (and before I could get any sort of explanation from either), Kurt continued, "If you really do want to change yourself, though, please consult me next time, because let's be honest, your attempt was pretty awful."

I tried to smile, though I still had tears in my eyes. "Thanks, Kurt," I said in a weak voice, "but I think I'm just going to go back to my usual self."

"Well, when you come to your senses, the offer stands."

I couldn't say that I didn't appreciate the offer, though. I had really been blown away by the support that Mercedes and Kurt had offered me upon finding out about my feelings for Artie. Truth be told, I was a horrible liar, and they saw right through the excuse that I was worried about him. Mercedes also was able to read the expression on my face when she saw Artie and I rehearsing, and had put two and two together to know that I had feelings for him. I hadn't told them the truth—not the whole truth, anyway: that I suspected I might be in love with him.

Mercedes was right. If I wanted to be with Artie, I had to be myself. The next day I put on my regular attire—black distressed jeans, a white T-shirt, and a short sleeved silk cardigan—ready to try to face the world as myself.

When I appeared downstairs for breakfast, my mom told my dad, "I told you it was a phase."

"I wish this was the phase," my dad said, clearly thinking I couldn't hear him.

As the week progressed, though, I couldn't help but wonder what was wrong with getting a makeover. Mr. Schue had invited the girls from Jane Addams to perform for us, and they apparently psyched him out, because he decided we were going to do a number focused on what he and Rachel termed "hairography". This included getting incredibly horrible wigs for all of the guys, who were considerably lacking in the hair department.

I also got word that Kurt had offered his makeover services not only to me but to another, rather unlikely, person: Rachel.

Artie and I didn't speak much that week, other than a quick "hi" or "hello" in Spanish class. I couldn't help but wonder whether my short lived makeover had scared him off. Most people hadn't quite forgotten about it. When I had walked into glee club the day after, I almost ran directly into Finn, who did a double take when he saw me.

"Oh, Melissa, I almost didn't recognize you," he said. "You changed out of your clown costume."

I pretended that this comment didn't offend me. Still, if I wanted to change myself, I did need help. When Kurt walked in the day we got our hairography inspired setlist, I gestured him over to the seat next to me. As he sat, I leaned over and whispered in his ear, "Is it too late to take you up on your offer?"

I could feel him perk up next to me, but he said, "What made you change your mind?"

"I was just thinking about how we've sort of changed our image as a glee club this week, so change isn't necessarily a bad thing, plus I heard that you helped Rachel out with a style makeover…"

"You do know I did that to sabotage her, right?"

"I know how you feel about Rachel. How everyone feels about Rachel. But we're friends, so I trust you to be a help instead of a hindrance to me."

"After rehearsal, we're going to the mall and giving you a new look."

I grinned, locking my eyes on Artie as he came into the room. I couldn't deny that I was looking forward to what Kurt and I could come up with together. I sent a quick text to my dad to let him know that I was going to get a ride home from Kurt.

He had finally gotten his car back from his dad (the windshield seemed fine, so whatever happened between him and Mercedes must have already been dealt with), so he drove me to the mall to get started. To my great surprise, he even relinquished control of the radio to let me play whatever I wanted.

"One condition, though," he said, checking his mirror. "No Avril Lavigne."

Smirking, I plugged in my iPod and said, "I have the perfect song for the occasion, actually."

The song filled the car as we drove down the road. Kurt looked at me out of the corner of his eye and grinned as the song started. The lyrics were stuck in my head as he dragged me around, first to a makeup counter filled with colors I wouldn't have ever chosen for myself.

All my makeup, it has washed off
I need a touch up
Mascara all up in my eyes

Next came a haircut. Admittedly, I needed a trim; my split ends were becoming a bit unmanageable and I had been thinking of getting streaks or highlights for a while as it was. Still, it was a little unnerving when the stylist actually started to put the foils in and cut away at my long blonde locks.

Chemical hair dyes and highlights
Higher than my lights
Higher than highlights
My makeup, it has washed off

Kurt and I walked by LensCrafters. He tried to get me to go in, but if I had to put my foot down somewhere, it was there: I wore glasses, and that had never bothered me. He could try all he wanted, but I was not switching to contact lenses, and I also wasn't getting a new frame considering the pair I was wearing—a cateye shaped, split color frame—was still pretty new. Besides, Artie himself wore glasses.

That meant only one thing left: new clothes and shoes. Naturally each outfit had to get the Kurt seal of approval, so he took a seat outside the changing room and expressed his (sometimes too) honest thoughts about each one.

I need a touch up
I need a touch up
I need a touch up

I need a touch up
Need a nip and a tuck
Need to be cropped and cut
I need a touch up
I need a haircut
I need a shave and a pluck
To help me get my love

Very few outfits made it out of the dressing room due to Kurt's incredible scrutiny. Still, we had a few frontrunners, and I was actually eagerly awaiting getting dressed the next day. We left the mall with our hands heavier and our pockets lighter—Kurt naturally picked a few things out for himself.

As we were driving back home, I looked out the window, the lyrics from Mother Mother still ringing in my ears. But more importantly, there was a new thought in my head: this was really what it felt like to have a friend.

I am a, a makeover queen
A swan out of duckling
Ugly duckling, you are drowning
In makeup, my makeup has washed off

The next morning I stood before my mirror, taking in the change. Admittedly, my hair did look nicer with the highlights—the stylist had used a technique that she referred to as a "balayage", which had created dimension to my hair, as well as the layers she had cut in. She also had cut my copycat Avril bangs straight across my brow, which I was still getting used to, but really did frame my face nicely.

The outfit, though, would take some getting used to, as well as the makeup. I was fine with the lipstick (red was my favorite color, after all), but the techniques that the cosmetologist had used were somewhat lost on me and difficult to duplicate. The sandals were uncomfortable, as was the belt and pink skirt combo I was in. I had a white button up shirt tucked into the skirt—admittedly, it did look better than when I had attempted this same look when I made over myself—and a beige cardigan with the sleeves folded back exactly twice (Kurt's insistence).

Yeah, I need a, I need a
Touch up, touch up
Too much touch up touches me up
Too much touch up, I…

I took a deep breath before going to school, thinking to myself, here goes nothing.

I wasn't immune to the stares that I got in the hallway. Mostly they came from people in my classes who weren't quite sure where they recognized me from, but there were a few people that I didn't know taking me in as well. I walked up to Kurt and Mercedes at her locker, letting out a sigh to announce my presence.

"Look at you!" Mercedes said, nodding her approval.

"I feel ridiculous," I said, tugging at the sleeves of the cardigan.

"Come on, Melissa," Kurt said, rolling his eyes. "You've got to admit this is better than the time you took fashion advice from Rachel."

"I'll give you that," I said, "but honestly, Kurt, this isn't me."

"Isn't that the whole point?"

"When are you going to talk to Artie?" Mercedes asked.

"I was hoping I could catch him alone before glee rehearsal, so if you guys could…"

"Stall everyone?" Kurt and Mercedes said in unison.

"We've got you covered," Kurt said. "I can only guarantee approximately two and a half minutes, though, so use your time wisely."

I nodded, though I didn't think two and a half hours would even be enough time. Besides, that was the day that we were set to perform for the Haverbrook School for the Deaf, so I knew that I didn't have a ton of time. I spent most of the day trying to come up with a plan, eventually scrapping all at the last minute in favor of just seeing where I could get to in the moment.

When I got to the choir room, I hesitated before peaking around the corner. I didn't know what strings Kurt and Mercedes had to pull, but there he was, all by himself, just as promised. I came into the room slowly, diving right in with a, "Hey."

Artie looked up at me and paused, taking me all in. "Hey," he said at last, in a voice that was different than usual. Did I dare say he sounded mesmerized?

I took a few steps closer to him, pointing at the chair next to him. "Mind if I…"

"N-no, go for it," he said, so I set my backpack down on the floor and sat in it.

My heart was pounding as I searched for something to say. "I didn't get to talk to you in Spanish class today," I said.

"Well, that is what happens when you come in three minutes late."

"Oh, I was just, uh, in the girl's room. You know, fixing my makeup," I added, gesturing to my lipstick, trying to draw attention to it.

"Mmm hmmm."

Silence fell over us again. How did girls like Quinn manage to talk to guys so effortlessly while I was already crashing and burning after a grand total of twenty seconds?

"You, uh, you nervous about the performance today?" I asked. "I know that you're featured quite heavily in it."

"No, it's cool. Performing doesn't really make me nervous that much anymore."

"Ah."

Why was I blanking on what to say already? There wasn't that much time left until everyone started showing up for our performance. I had to think fast.

"Yeah, I, uh, I know I'm supposed to be in my outfit for the performance already," I said, looking at the ripped jeans that I knew Artie most certainly did not pick out for himself, "but I just thought I'd stop by and—"

"What are you doing?" Artie asked in a quiet voice.

"Wh—what?" I asked.

"This isn't you."

"What do you mean?"

"I mean, this," he said, motioning towards my outfit. "And whatever it was that you pulled out of your closet last week. When you first joined the glee club and Mr. Schue made everyone start using a wheelchair, you told me that you were trying to tone down your appearance to make everyone else happy. And I told you that no matter how you presented yourself, we'd like you."

I was surprised at this outburst, unable to come up with anything to say except, "Let's be honest, most people in glee club don't really like me."

"We all like you. And we like you because you're you. Because you unapologetically listen to Avril Lavigne and the Ramones, and you wear black most of the time, and mostly because you're not afraid to show people who you really are. That's the thing that I like most about you."

My heart continued to pound in my chest at that last sentence. Artie liked me. Maybe not romantically (only time would be able to tell), but he actually, truly liked me. I stared down at the floor and searched for something to say.

"So you don't like the way I look?"

"Of course I do, but I also like the way you look in ripped jeans and dark colors, and I know you do, too. So why are you doing this?" I looked up at him, unable to read his expression. "Why are you trying so hard to change who you are?"

"I…" Did I tell him the truth? Did I dare admit already to the fact that I had feelings for him? I opened my mouth, but Mercedes' message started ringing in my head and what ended up coming out was, "I wanted certain people to like me, but I guess that I don't really want their approval if they don't like the real me."

"Well, whoever those people are, they're idiots if they don't like the real you."

I looked into Artie's eyes, able to see in them that he was truly speaking his mind. He genuinely did like me—me, the girl who had been pretty much an outcast from the second she walked into this school.

"But when we first met," I said, "you told me that change could be a good thing."

"Yeah, it can, but I meant changing your routine or moving to a new state, not pretending to be someone you're not."

"I guess you're right," I said. "I mean, I even told Kurt that I didn't feel comfortable in this."

"And you told Kurt that because…?"

"Well, number one, he's one of three friends that I have at this school, and yes, I consider you one. But to tell you the truth, this whole makeover thing was Kurt's idea. But he also wouldn't have done it if I hadn't suggested a change first. The other outfit was my idea—my horrible idea." He laughed, finally breaking eye contact with me. I couldn't help but crack a smile. "Was it really as bad as I think it was?" Artie hesitated, rubbing the back of his head, so I added, "Be honest. Finn told me it looked like a clown costume."

"I don't mean to be rude, but we kind of thought someone had broken into your house and stolen all of your clothes."

That elicited a laugh from me, too. "No, that wasn't rude. It was honest. Like I should be." I knew that would be the perfect moment to just confess my feelings, but there was something else I wanted to be brutally honest about. "And speaking of honesty, I think we can both agree that those wigs you guys are wearing are terrible."

We both laughed yet again. "They're so awful," Artie said. "It's like having a giant spider on my head. But speaking of the assignment, you really picked the perfect time to get a new haircut. It actually looks really nice. It…it suits you."

"Thank you," I said, smiling at him. "That…that really means a lot, coming from you."

Just as I felt I was gathering up the courage to confess what I was feeling, the rest of the glee club came walking into the room. I glanced up and saw that most of them were already wearing their costumes for the performance, yet I still looked like a Barbie doll. I rose out of my chair and grabbed my backpack, then turned back to Artie before leaving.

"I better go change," I said. "For the performance, that is."

"That's one change I'll let you make," he said with a smile on his face, taking the brakes off his chair and joining the guys as they started putting on their wigs.

Kurt and Mercedes stopped me at the door. "Well?" Mercedes asked.

"You two talk?" Kurt asked.

I looked over my shoulder at Artie as Matt, one of the football players, helped him put his wig on. The smile on his face was still there, just as broad as it had been when we were talking, and I doubted it had anything to do with his new locks. I allowed myself a grin as well.

"I did," I said, then turned back to my friends. "And while I appreciate your help, I think the best way to get his attention is to not change a thing about myself."

AN: Thanks for reading! Again, the song that Melissa sings in this chapter is included in the playlist on my profile. Things are about to start heating up between them in the next couple of chapters, so thanks for being patient with the build up. Please be sure to favorite, follow, and review!