IDs are like undies.
They get dirty.
— The Former Phoebe Delgado
"Phoebe, my love! Who's your friend?"
His name was Sebastian. He was everything you'd expect a hairstylist named Sebastian to be, and more, which would have been obnoxious, except he meant well, and his enthusiasm was real.
"She's my sister," I said. "And she needs a new look."
Her name was Amber, but she didn't know I knew that, and I was tired of pretending I didn't.
"You're Phoebe?" she asked.
I told her to shut the hell up and go with it. "Like Amber's your real name!"
"Hold up. I never told you my name."
"It's like I said when we met. I'm magic."
"Not good enough. How'd you know my name?"
"We'll talk about it later."
"Be right with you, lovelies!" Sebastian said, as Amber's eyes darted around the room.
"Sorry, Amber. This is happening."
Who's Phoebe? Surely, you know Phoebe was me, which meant she was anybody I wanted her to be.
Actually, Phoebe was a fuckup.
I used a different name with every new girl, just in case anything went wrong. I said I was Mindy from Minneapolis, Seana from Seattle, Phoebe from Phoenix. I know that sounds hokey as hell, especially since I was also Hellen from Helena, even though my fake ID said Hammond. The worst was probably Madison from Madison.
Pairing up a name with a city made it easier to remember my phony backstory, if somebody asked. Nobody ever does. But still, safety first. Real name? Never.
I met Sebastian because I was with a girl who needed a cleanup before I could send her out with a mark. A cleanup. That's putting it kindly. I told her I was Phoebe, so, fuck it.
I'd been saving my new "real" name until I had a worthy partner. Things with Amber seemed to be working out, which meant it was time to settle into being the new me.
Thanks to grandma Paula, I was now Shayna Marie Dempsey. Shay, for short. It's the kind of name that comes with a bitchy personality, whether you've got one or not. And I do. And fuck you for thinking it before I said it. Sheesh.
Anyway, I had a feeling I'd enjoy being Shayna for a while. Hopefully, a long while.
"Alright then, ladies! Right this way! What are we doing today???"
Yes, he always talks like that.
"Sebastian, meet my sister, Amber. I love her to death, but she needs confidence. Make her look shmancy."
"Oh, God," Amber gasped.
"Oh, honey, don't you worry," Sebastian said as he ran his fingers through her hair. "Oohwee, look at you. Aren't you precious? There's a babe under there, I promise. We'll find her!"
Everyone was a babe to Sebastian. On my own dime I could never afford him, but this was being paid for by Wade Simmons. Simpson? Simonsen. It doesn't matter. He was The B. I almost felt guilty about stealing his Bitcoin until I found out he put his mom in a home. Fuck that. He had all that coin and he wouldn't take care of his mom? Fine. Mine. The Bitcoin, I mean.
Then again, who names a kid Wade? That ain't right. Maybe she deserved to be put in a home. Still, fuck you, Wade. Have fun being poor.
"Are we doing Ambie's makeup too, Phoebes?"
Amber sank even lower in her chair. "Oh, gaaahd."
Oops. I forgot to warn her about the makeup. "Oh, yeah! I'm taking her shopping when we're done. This is a full makeover, because she's worth it!"
I brought her to Sebastian because he's good. I needed her to look in the mirror and see somebody new. I needed her to see this was her shot at being somebody new.
For this to work, she couldn't just look pretty. She needed to feel it, deep in her soul. And if she couldn't, I wanted her to feel like an actress, so she'd commit to the role.
She needed the confidence to flirt with a guy and feel like he's the one who's unworthy. That's how she'd reel him in. That's how she'd take him back to "her place," get him in the hot tub and get his damn pants off so I could snatch his wallet and keys.
The plan was perfect if she could hold up her end.
For that, she needed to believe in herself. I'd never tell her, but that bitch has power. She has the ability to throw a look that says, "I own you." It's almost scary, but it's good. For this.
If we pulled this off, we'd be rich, and I was ready.
God, I wanted this.
For now, the priority was to de-skank Amber. She was in rough shape, but she hid it well. Well enough. I could tell she'd been on the streets long enough to be scared of it, but not long enough to stop fighting it. That's why it was easy for me to get her. She wanted a way out. She still believed she could get out.
I said I knew the way, and I didn't ask anything I didn't need to know. Her secrets were nobody's business but her own.
I knew this for sure: Wherever she'd been, she'd been lost. She went along with everything way too easily.
But like I said, she needed this.
I found her working a street corner, so it's not like she had a lot to lose. And while she was doing this, with me, I knew she wouldn't be missed.
"Are you ready to meet the new YOU!?" Sebastian roared, more for my sake than Amber's.
He was proud of his work, but as he spun her around to face the mirror... She wasn't ready.
You can change a face. You can redo a do. What's in the head and the heart won't match the art if one of them is broken. One of hers was, but I hadn't figured out which. Not that it mattered. I just needed her to fake it until she could make it new. Whatever the New was going to be, it just needed to be believable.
"Thank you, Sebastian. Amazing work, as always. MWUAH!" I flirted with him as we made our way out the door because it was part of the show. The world is one giant performance piece and we all have a role to play. I overtipped him because he didn't ask questions and he didn't gossip. Not about his customers, anyway.
"So, PHOEEEEBE..."
I should have seen that comment coming.
"...how the fuck'd you know my name? I never gave it to you. We gonna talk about that?"
"Listen," I said. "IDs are like undies. They get dirty. You've gotta know when to throw 'em away. Have you had enough of being Amber? Ready to be somebody new?"
"Right, but how'd you know my name?"
"I'm magic."
"Seriously, how'd you..."
"The bartender, when we met," I lied. I knew her name long before then. I'd spent weeks stalking her. "The bartender called you Amber. I'm guessing your drink was free because he was a John. To hell with that. All of it. You're getting a fresh start here. Look in the mirror again. You look amazing!"
Amber turned to face a mirror on the wall. She was startled, and I was glad. She looked like an imposter in her own clothes, and she knew it. I needed her to choose the new, not the old.
"You look like a million bucks. You look new. The new you deserves a new name."
"Why would I need a new name?"
"You're gonna use a fake name with the marks. Fake names are part of the plan so nobody knows who we really are. So, who do you want to be? Just don't pick a dumb name like Destiny or Mercedes." Or Wade. Seriously, fuck that guy. And fuck me for even thinking about feeling guilty.
"Huh. How about... Claire?"
"That works. Where's it from?"
"What do you mean?"
"I mean, you picked a new name really quick."
"Yeah, well... I was pregnant once. I was gonna name her Claire."
"Oh."
Shit.
"Yeah. I was with a guy. He had a temper and... so... Yeah."
Double shit. And ouch.
"How about Clarissa for you. It's more elegant. You go by Claire for short."
"Do I pick a last name too?"
"No. We're gonna get you a new ID, so you pick a name and they'll do their best to pair it up with a last name. But you get what you get."
"And your fake name is...?"
"Shayna Dempsey."
"Really."
"Fuck you. I know, Dempsey's kind of cringe, but it's just a name."
"And I'm Clarissa now?"
"Claire, for short. We'll find out the rest when we get your ID."
"And I'm elegant?"
"You will be. We've gotta work on that... Claire."