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 gave you my name."
"It's like I said when we met, I'm magic."
"Fuck that. 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," I said as she cringed. "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 partner, just in case. I said I was Minnie from Minneapolis, Seana from Seattle, Phoebe from Phoenix. I know that sounds hokey as hell, or should I say Hell, since I was also Hellen for a while.
My worst fake name 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 for me to be the new me.
Thanks to grandma Paula's scam at the DMV, I was now Shayna. 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 even 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, fuck," Amber gasped.
"Oh, honey, don't you worry," Sebastian said as he ran his fingers through her hair. "Oowee, look at you. Aren't you precious? There's a babe under there, I promise. We'll find her!"
Everyone's a babe to Sebastian. On my own dime I could never afford him, but this was being paid for by Wade Simmons. Simpkens? Simmersen? It doesn't matter. He was The B. I almost felt bad about stealing his Bitcoin until I went through his mail. I found a letter from his mom. Bro put her in a home, and I don't mean a house. Fuck that. He had coin but he wouldn't take care of his mom? Fine. Mine.
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?" Sebastian asked, as Amber sank even lower in her chair.
"Oh, gaaahd."
Oops. I forgot to warn her about that. "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 Amber to look in the mirror and see somebody new. This was her shot at being somebody new.
But for this to work, she couldn't just look pretty. She needed to feel it, deep in her soul. She needed the confidence to flirt with a guy and feel like he was the one who's unworthy. That's how she'd reel him in. That's how she'd get him in the hot tub and get his damn pants off so I could snatch his keys and ID.
It wasn't about getting one guy. We were gonna tear through northwest Indiana, all the way into Chicago. But for this to work, she had to believe we could do it.
First, she had 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 was 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. 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 still believed she could get out. She wanted a way 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 one thing for sure. Wherever she'd been, she'd been lost. She went along with all of this way too easily.
But like I said, she needed it.
I found her working a street corner, so it's not like she had a lot to lose.
"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 look the part and feel confident in the role.
"Oh, Sebastian," I said. "Amazing work, as always. MWUAH!"
I flirted with him as we made our way out the door because it's 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.
We weren't even out the door yet when Amber made it clear she had something on her mind. And I should have seen it coming.
"So, PHOEEEEBE..."
"Yeah?"
"...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? Are you ready to be somebody new?"
"How'd you know my name?"
"I'm magic."
"Seriously, how the fuck'd you..."
"The bartender, when we met," I lied. I already knew her name because I'd been stalking her. "He 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. Look in the mirror again. You look amazing!"
Amber turned to face a mirror on the wall. She looked like she'd seen a ghost, or maybe the opposite. And I was glad. She looked like an impostor in her own clothes. I needed her to choose the new, not the old.
"Amber, you look like a million bucks. The new you deserves a new name."
"Why the hell would I need a new name?"
"Fake names are part of the plan so nobody knows who we really are. Just to be safe, especially when you're with a mark. So, who do you want to be? Pick a new name, but don't make it something dumb like Destiny or Mercedes." Or Wade. Seriously, fuck that guy. And fuck me for even thinking about feeling guilty.
She said, "How about... Claire?"
"That works. Where's it from?"
"What do you mean?"
"I mean, you chose a new name really quick. You barely stopped to think about it."
"Yeah, well... I was pregnant once. I was gonna name her Claire."
"Oh."
Shit.
"I was with a guy," she said. "He had a temper and... so... Yeah."
Double shit. And ouch.
I said, "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, for when you're on dates with marks. A good one. I got a guy for that. Actually, I got a gal-guy for that. Pick a first name and she'll do her best to pair it up with a middle and last name, to make it legit. It'll be a new legal identity, but you only get to choose the first name. For the rest, get what you get."
"And the name she got you is...?"
"Shayna Leigh Dempsey."
"Did that come with a banjo and a twang?"
"Fuck you. 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 fuckin' elegant, huh?"
"You will be. We've gotta work on that... Claire."