The Resurrection of Aubrey Miller

K: LOL What’s up, Sunshine?



Me: Quinn kidnapped me for my birthday and my hair is being accosted by a very hot gay man.



K: Birthday? It’s your birthday?



Me: Shut up. You know it’s my birthday.



K: How could I forget? ;) Happy Birthday. I wanted to let you sleep in or I would have called you earlier.



Me: There’s no sleeping in with Quinn Matthews having access to my room.



K: I also have access to your room. Although my waking you up would have been much hotter than Quinn’s. Unless…



Me: You’re such a dude.



K: That I am.



K: Shit. So does this mean no more Rainbow Brite jokes? I had a whole slew of material for tonight.



Me: Aw, darn.



K: I’m sensing sarcasm.



Me: You ARE a self-declared infinite well of knowledge.



K: Aaaaaand there it is again.



Me: :)



Me: Shit. I’ve gotta go. He’s yanking the foil out of my hair.



K: Can’t wait to see you gorgeous. Still on for tonight?



Me: Tonight? We’ve got plans tonight?



K: Touché



I grin at my phone and then hand it to Quinn as I’m escorted to the sink. Once I smell like a coconut, I’m brought back to the chair which is once again turned away from the mirror while hot Sergio begins combing and pinning up my hair in sections.

“You have managed to fry your hair, darling. I put a treatment pack on it, but I’m still going to have to take some length off,” he states while waving a comb dangerously near my eyeball.

I glance to Quinn, whose own eyes are watching his every movement as though she’s memorizing them. Her hair looks great, of course, with multiple shades of blonde streaking through it. Her make-up is applied beautifully in a way that brings out her natural magnificence. The light brown shadow on the top of her lids and the matching hue lining the bottom is accentuated by her long, dark lashes. Her cheeks are rosy pink and her lips shine with a neutrally-shaded gloss. She looks stunning. I hope they can do the same for me.

“Go ahead, boss. Chop away.”

And he does. For an extensive amount of time.

Every snip seems to serve a purpose and every stroke with the brush while drying does as well. When he’s done he, steps back and clasps his hands together in appreciation for his masterpiece. Quinn gasps and I just want to be turned around so I can see.

I don’t have to wait long.

After Quinn and Sergio share a grin, I’m whirled around with the speed of the Tasmanian Devil. Once I come to a jarring stop, my eyes land on the person in front of me. At the sight, tears sting my eyes, and Sergio gasps in confusion at my reaction.

“What are those tears? You love? Or hate?”

I have no words. I can only manage a slight nod as the tears spill over and my chest begins to thrum as I take in the person staring back at me.

Her bright blue eyes are wide and the shade of her hair is almost identical to the eight-year-old version of me, the only difference being the various darker blonde strands that are masterfully threaded throughout. The length is to her shoulders, and her swept bangs are accented by a fanning frame of layers around her face.

My heart lurches as I’m brought face-to-face with the little girl that I buried so long ago.

I know that girl in the reflection.

It’s Aubrey Miller before she died, twelve years later.

With tears now coursing down my cheeks, my eyes remain glued to the mirror as I let out the breath I’ve been holding and smile, stating with absolute resolution…

“I love.”





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