Page 61 of Sizzle Reel

I hang up with my heart fluttering. This is definitely the most ambitious crossover I’ve ever attempted, but here we go. I know I just told myself I wouldn’t involve Romy with this Valeria stuff, but just this once. One last thing I need from her. I’ll make it up to her. And she agreed without hesitation. This can’t be complete torture for her, right?

Romy’s a genius with this stuff; if she can’t determine whether Valeria gives off gay vibes, no one can. I’ll email Brendan at the barber, ask if he’ll recommend me, and everything will be perfect.

The barbershop has a perfectly curated Romy aesthetic: brick wall facade outside leading into a converted warehouse housing an industrial design shop, complete with brightly covered geometric furniture in the waiting area, floating shelves that display the shop’s organic products, and maroon old-fashioned barber chairs that serve as the main attraction in the salon section. Silver vents line the ceiling and the exposed brick walls, and for the life of me, I have no idea if those are the actual guts to this place or if they’ve been put in for aesthetic purposes.

As we walk in, we see Romy waiting on a lime-green chair. There’s only one person working in the shop. Sid, I imagine. Somehow, even though it’s my friend and my idea, I walk half a pace slower than Valeria. Romy’s up to meet us, pulling me into a hug.

“I’m sorry if I freak out for the first five minutes,” she whispers in my ear, her breath prickling the fine hairs along my neck.

She wheels around, wiping her palms on her shorts before holding out a hand to Valeria. “Romy, she/her, Luna’s sanity line. I’m very excited to meet you.”

Valeria smiles, the same honest grin she gives everyone. “Val, she/her. It’s great meeting you too, and thank you for the honest recommendation.”

Romy’s eyebrow twitches at Valeria’s intro. I wonder if we’re both registering how fluidly Valeria did the pronoun thing. Not that straight cis people can’t do it without hesitation, but it’s rare. Hell, it took me a few months to respond smoothly when Romy started introducing herself to new people with her pronouns.

And Val?

“You go by Val?” I ask her.

“Yeah, everyone I know in normal life calls me that. Either is good.” Her eyes widen a moment. “If I haven’t given you permission to start calling me that, please feel free.”

Romy slides from Val’s handshake right back to me, putting an arm over my shoulder. She leads us over to Sid’s counter.

“So this is Sid, and I’ll leave it to them,” Romy says. “They’re a genius.”

Sid, who has the perfect flannel-and-light-wash-jeans-with-chains aesthetic for this place, nods at Valeria. Either they’re too cool to freak out over her or they don’t recognize her. “So what’re we thinking today?”

Sid leads Valeria back into the middle barber chair. Romy releases me to take one of the empty seats next to her. I take the other seat, brushing my hand on the spot on my arm that Romy just touched. Was she just acting…shy? Romy’s never not bubbly with fellow artsy queer people. In fact, the last time I remember her being like this was before she came out as nonbinary tome.

Valeria runs a hand through her hair. “So I need something short and stylish, but it’s been a long time since I chopped it that short.”

Sid runs their hands through Valeria’s hair, showing off chipped rainbow nails. I glance at Romy’s hands on instinct. She’s changed her nails to dark pink.

“Undercuts are always a winner, but we can do something less dramatic with the fade. Keep the base about crew cut length but give lots of volume up top.” Sid smiles. “Give your partner a little something to run their fingers through.”

I’ve run my hands through short hair before. I can still recall the different textures, the boys whose short hair I liked the most. I bet women’s hair will be softer. The strands of Valeria’s hair that I got to touch on Sunday were certainly like silk. The idea of being that partner, running my hands through her hair as we make out, has my stomach tightening.

“Let’s do that,” Valeria says.

Once Sid does Valeria’s shampoo and conditioner, the conversation really starts.

“Did you write the movie you’re working on now?” Romy asks as Sid works silently with the scissors and comb.

Valeria makes a face. “I wish, but I’m a terrible writer. No, the script’s by this really cool queer woman and L.G.B.T. activist named Zoe Davidson. She worked at an Italian restaurant my producer friend goes to all the time. My friend asked for a sample and brought it to me.”

Romy’s eyes light up. “That’s so cool the writer’s queer too.”

Valeria smiles, and I’m not sure what emotion she’s feeling by not replying.

“Romy writes,” I add.

Valeria’s eyes light up, breaking the tension in my chest. “Oh, that’s great. Novels? Screenplays?”

Romy holds eye contact with me. “Plays and a little screenwriting and prose.”

“Do you write from your experience like that?”

Cold stabs me in the back. Romy stiffens for a moment too, but then she relaxes. “Yeah, I do. I have a couple identities thrown in the mix, and I’ve yet to do anything that fully represents the entire me, but different aspects of me have definitely shown up.” Romy folds her fingertips together behind her head. “It’s been really empowering for me.”

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