My makeover has had the most fabulous effect. I feel so amazing, so confident, and still somehow a bit like a fraud, but I’m pushing that feeling to the back of my mind. I don’t feel as if I’m me right now, but right now I’m kind of into it.
Millsy looks great, with his wild curls tamed, in yet another perfectly fitted shirt with the sleeves rolled up a quarter of the way. He’s so effortlessly stylish, I don’t know how he does it. It took a whole team of people to make me look like this.
Another reason I don’t recognise myself is because I am at Hades for the second night in a row (also the second time in my life, but we don’t need to dwell on that part).
It turns out Millsy is somehow ‘in’ at Hades. I’m definitely interested to find out how but right now I’m just loving the attention my new look is getting me. It isn’t that everyone is checking me out, and it’s not that I want everyone to fancy me or anything, it’s just that… I don’t know, it finally feels as if people can see me. We’ve only just got here and a large group of Millsy’s male friends are already gathered around one of the super-VIP tables. Every single one of Milly’s friends is a big, buff dude, just like him. I wonder whether or not they’re actors, but I don’t recognise anyone.
Standing at the edge of the VIP area, checking his phone, is a man with short brown hair and a neat brown beard. He laughs at something on his phone, which showcases his gorgeous smile.
‘Who is that?’ I ask Millsy.
‘Why don’t you go and find out?’ Millsy suggests.
‘What, just go over and talk to him?’
‘Yeah,’ Millsy says.
I take my phone from my clutch bag. Something I often do when I’m nervous; it’s as if I hide behind it. Millsy takes it from me and puts it in his trouser pocket.
‘You need to practise – flirt up a storm with him, see what happens. It will be good for your confidence. In fact…’
Millsy gives me a nudge in the man’s direction. Because I’m still so unsteady in these sky-high heels I’m not used to, I stumble over to him a little too enthusiastically, catching his attention as I present myself in front of him. While I might feel more confident because of my new look, I cancel this out by stumbling into the man.
‘Hi,’ I blurt.
‘Hi,’ the man replies. His face is void of any kind of emotion as he stares at me, waiting for me to say something.
‘Erm…’ I wrack my brains for something to say. Damn, Millsy was right, I really do need to work on my flirting. ‘Do you know where the toilets are?’
The man glances next to us, where two neon signs shine brightly. A blue one for the men’s and a pink one for the ladies’.
‘Oh, right, of course,’ I say.
I feel butterflies in my tummy – no, not butterflies, they feel more like bats. Big ones, desperately trying to find a way out.
‘Can I help you with anything else?’ he asks through a grin.
‘No, no, just the loos, and now I’ve found them so, I’ll go there…’
I make a move to head to the loos, even though I don’t need to go.
‘I like your hair,’ he says.
He stops me in my tracks.
‘Oh, thanks,’ I reply. ‘I just had it done today. It’s a bit different from what I’m used to.’
‘I used to have longer hair,’ he tells me. ‘I got it cut last year, grew a beard – people think I look like a different person. A better one. I looked like an ugly girly before.’
I laugh. Cute, charming, funny, doesn’t take himself too seriously. So Hades is where all the decent men have been hiding, huh?
‘Do you want to grab a drink, have a chat?’ he asks me.
What I need to do right now is to put the old me out of my head. I need to be the new me. Cara 2.0. The one who is full of confidence. The sex kitten. I’m going to have this guy eating out of the palm of my hand. I just need to do what Millsy told me: be more man.
‘I would love to,’ I reply, in my most flirtatious – yet still quite subtle – tone. Wow, is this how easy it is, to be cool and sexy? Is everyone else just pretending too? I thought maybe some people were sexy and some were dorks but… I really feel as if I’m doing it.
He fetches us a couple of glasses of champagne and, as we sit down in one of the booths in the VIP section, Millsy gives me a subtle thumbs up before getting back to chatting with his mates. I suppose this guy is one of his mates too.
‘I’m thinking of getting a pug,’ he tells me.
I laugh.
‘OK.’
I can’t help but smile. Of all the things we could talk about, he’s talking about dogs.
‘I’ve been to see a few, and obviously I want them all. But there’s this black pug, I think he’s the one for me. The problem is that, while my flatmate is happy for me to get one, he takes issue with the fact that I want to call him Count Pugular.’
Why did I have to be taking a sip of my drink when he said that? I laugh so hard I start to cough.
‘Did you just say Count Pugular?’
‘I did,’ he confirms, talking about this stuff as if it’s completely serious. ‘There was this kids’ show…’
‘Oh, I remember it,’ I tell him. ‘I remember it well. Count Duckula? I absolutely loved it growing up. I remember Nanny and Igor. Gosh, I haven’t thought about it in years. Decades, maybe.’
I don’t worry about sounding old because, if we both watched it growing up, we’re probably around the same age.
‘It’s a classic,’ he insists. ‘But my flatmate, he grew up in another country where they deprived him of Count Duckula, so he’s dead against it. I suggested a few other names. I thought about Mr Puggy – of course, my flatmate grew up without Noel’s House Party on TV, so he has no idea who Mr Blobby is.’
‘Do you want it to be something from your childhood?’ I ask.
‘I do,’ he replies. He smiles at me. ‘Don’t psychoanalyse me, but my parents would never let me have a dog so I really want to give him a name that I would have given him back then.’
‘Is Captain Pugwash too obvious?’ I ask.
He narrows his eyes as he smiles at me.
‘How on earth did I miss that one?’ he asks. ‘That’s a great idea. I’ll run it by my flatmate, see if he can live with it.’
‘It’s on-brand with your other suggestions so I’m not sure he’ll be a huge fan,’ I point out. ‘Did you ever watch Doug? You could just call him Pug… You’d know it was a reference to a kids’ TV show but to everyone else, it just seems like a cool, meta name.’
‘You’re good at this,’ he tells me.
‘We always had dogs in our family home. After the last two died recently, with me not being around any more and my brother being busy with uni, my parents decided to wait a while before rushing into getting any more. They were both so amazing, such a huge part of my life. I really miss having a dog around now. But one thing you will quickly learn is that, once you’ve got one, you’ll probably call him twenty completely daft names for every time you use his real one. Names that rhyme, names that describe the way he looks… And, by the time you’re calling him nicknames, he’ll already be a part of your family, and I remember my dad saying that he’d never get a dog, never wanted a dog. And every dog we’ve ever put in front of him, he’s instantly fallen in love with it. I’m sure your flatmate will feel the same before he even realises.’