Page 49 of Steamy on Set

“Tiffany.” Turning back to let down my curls, she goes for a comb. I watch her part my hair into four sections, clipping up all but one. When she begins to direct the comb to the top of my roots, unease quickens my heart.

“What are you doing?”

She looks at me, tilting her head to the side, seemingly taken aback by my questioning.

“I’m going to comb out the curls so I can straighten your hair.”

I sit up, moving my head away from her hands, staring her down through the mirror.

“You were going for the root. You can’t comb out my hair from there. You need to start at the end. Also, you can’t comb it out dry. It needs to be wet.”

Her head snaps to the side like I slapped her. She moves her mouth into a stubborn line, red creeping up her cheeks.

“I know how to do hair.” With her pale skin and rod-straight hair, I’m really starting to question if she does.

“How many Black girls’ hair have you done, Tiffany?” I twist in the chair to look at her in time to see her mouth drop open in shock. Waiting for the answer, I don’t back down as she stutters over her words.

“Well, I, uh, I…” Looking me up and down, I can see her brain working overtime to come up with a response. “I’m a professional. I know what I’m doing.”

Avoiding the question entirely, her lack of an answer provides me with what I need.

When she goes to try and touch my hair again, I slide out of the seat, putting my hand up. I don’t say another word to her as I walk out of the room and head out in search of Errol. Finding him talking with Mira in the wardrobe room, I can’t imagine what I must look like to them when I bust in.

“Tiffany is not doing my hair.”

Looking up, both their mouths pop open. With my hair still clipped up mid styling, I know I appear to be crazy interrupting their conversation. I don’t care.

“What’s wrong?” Errol asks

“Farrah,” Mira admonishes.

Ignoring her, I walk over to Errol.

“She doesn’t know how to do Black people’s hair.” I point to my head. “I won’t let her make me look awful on camera.”

“Farrah, you can’t make those types of assumptions. You’re going to cause her to lose her job,” Mira cries out.

Good, she shouldn’t work in this industry if she can’t do everyone’s hair. Ignoring her again, I turn towards Errol and try to communicate how serious this is with the set of my jaw. He understands from that alone, his chin dipping once in agreement.

“I’ll talk to Priyanka. For today though, can you do your own hair?” he asks.

Mira’s mouth twists into a scowl, her eyebrows shooting up.

“Yes,” I say satisfied, and turn and leave.

Walking back into the room with Tiffany, I tell her I’ll style my hair myself and get to work. She looks relieved while watching me take over her tools. Wishing for my heat protectant at home,I do the best I can with what she has, emerging two hours later looking damn good.

Heading back to wardrobe, I go to get my costume. I run into Mira as I’m returning to my trailer.

“What do you think you’re doing?” She stomps over to me, face still pinched in the expression I last saw her wearing.

Throwing the clothes over my shoulder, I brace myself for whatever she has to say.

“What makes you think you can just request changes like this? Do you even care that you might have just gotten someone fired? I mean, come on Farrah, don’t you think you’re being unfair?” She rests her hands on her hips, her features sharp.

Heat rises up the back of my spine with every word she speaks until it has reached my head. I brace my shoulders, trying to stand tall, ready for my turn.

“I didn’t realize it was unfair to ask for someone to be able to do my hair texture. But I shouldn’t be surprised that you wouldn’t understand that. Apparently, you don’t understand much about me. If Tiffany loses her job, it’s because she isn’t good at it. That has nothing to do with me.” I step around her, but she follows behind.

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