A Prom Princess is Born (1/7)

This was another old 2 part caption series originally posted on DeviantArt. I've continued it quite a bit so hope you enjoy!

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Greg’s patience was already running thin as he drove his stepdaughter, Melissa, and her three giggling friends to the salon for their prom prep. The car reeked of perfume, and the incessant chatter about hairstyles and “cute boys” had him gritting his teeth.

“You girls really waste all this time for one night?” he grumbled, gripping the steering wheel. “I mean, we all know what prom’s really about—dressing up just to get laid. Right?”

The car went silent. Melissa’s friends exchanged annoyed glances but didn’t respond. Melissa shot him a glare.

By the time they arrived at the salon, Greg had worked himself into a full-blown sulk. When the girls announced their appointments would take “a couple of hours,” he groaned and plopped into one of the waiting chairs. “Unbelievable,” he muttered, slouching down. Within minutes, the faint hum of hairdryers and the gentle buzz of conversations lulled him into a deep sleep.

“Hey, Mr. Thompson?” Melissa’s friend whispered, shaking his shoulder. He didn’t react, even when she tried again, a little harder this time. “Oh my god,” she said, stifling a laugh. “You guys, he’s totally out.”

The group sat in silence for a moment, and then one of them broke into a sly grin. “I think it’s time we got a little revenge.”

The others caught on immediately. One of the girls slipped over to the stylist, quietly pointing toward Greg and whispering in her ear. The stylist glanced at him, raised her eyebrows, and nodded. Without a word, she grabbed her tools, and the girls huddled together, barely able to contain their excitement as the makeover began.

Greg didn’t even stir as the transformation started. The stylist began by dyeing Greg’s short hair to match the soft blonde extensions she was preparing. Once the color set, she carefully clipped in the extensions, blending them seamlessly with his natural hair. With practiced ease, she curled the long strands into soft waves that cascaded over his shoulders.

His face was meticulously prepped—foundation, contour, and a touch of blush to give him a youthful glow. The girls giggled as the stylist applied shimmering pink eyeshadow, winged eyeliner, and a glossy pink lipstick that gave his lips a soft, pouty look. His nails were next: acrylic extensions were glued on and painted a shiny bubblegum pink, perfectly matching his fresh pedicure.

The final step was piercing his ears. The sharp sting of the piercing gun jolted Greg awake. He blinked groggily, his mind struggling to catch up as his reflection came into focus in the mirror. His painted eyes widened, taking in the long blonde hair, the flawless makeup, the nails, the earrings. His glossy lips parted as if to speak, but no words came out.

Before he could gather himself, a cheerful but slightly exasperated voice called out from the front of the salon. “Girls! Are you ready to go?”

Greg turned toward the voice in a daze, just as one of the girls’ mothers, Mrs. Walker, stepped into the room. She looked frazzled, glancing around quickly before stopping short at the sight of Greg.

“I cannot believe Greg ditched you all here,” she huffed. “I had to drop everything to come pick you up. And you’re still in your salon cape?” she said, putting her hands on her hips. “Sweetie, you’re going to make everyone late! Hurry up and get dressed—prom is starting soon!”

Greg’s mouth dropped open, but no sound came out.

Melissa stepped in, giggling. “Don’t worry, Mrs. Walker! She’s always such an airhead. We’ll help her get ready.” She turned to Greg, her grin wicked. “C’mon, Gabriella. Let’s get you dressed!”

Dragged to the back room, Greg hissed under his breath. “Melissa, what the hell is going on? Fix this right now!”

“Relax, Dad. You’ve already been mistaken for one of us. Unless you want her to figure out you’ve been walking around pretending to be a teenage girl…” Melissa trailed off, her grin widening.

Greg’s eyes widened, his painted lashes fluttering as he struggled to form a response.

“That’s what I thought,” Melissa said smugly, holding up the shiny pink dress. “Now, stop whining and put this on.”

His protests were ignored as the girls worked together to transform him fully. The satin dress fit snugly, cinching his waist and flaring out into flirty ruffles. A padded bra created a convincing bust, while Melissa adjusted his clear block-heeled sandals. The straps wrapped around his ankles, and the sturdy, four-inch heels gave him just enough height to match the other girls, while showing off his glossy pink pedicure. By the time they were done, Greg’s reflection was unrecognizable.

“Remember,” Melissa said as they headed back to the front, “stay in character. One slip, and Mrs. Walker finds out.”

“Girls! Let’s go!” Mrs. Walker called, already heading toward the door.

Melissa gave Greg a shove. “Hurry up, Gabriella, or we’ll be late!”

Greg stumbled forward, his heels clicking on the floor as the girls ushered him out to the car. His heart sank as the car doors shut around him, the girls snickering about all the fun “Gabriella” was going to have at prom.