Lather Salon, West Hollywood, Los Angeles. Mid-morning. Warm California sunshine pours through the floor-to-ceiling windows, casting golden light across polished concrete floors and oversized mirrors. Blow dryers hum, scissors snip rhythmically, phones ring, and conversations overlap with indie rock playing softly through the speakers. The salon is busy—stylists weaving effortlessly between chairs while clients sip coffee and gossip.

Lather has become one of West Hollywood's most sought-after salons, known for its talented stylists and celebrity clientele. Every day brings a new face, another secret, another story.

At the center of it all is Shane McCutcheon.

Effortlessly cool and naturally gifted, Shane has built a reputation as one of Lather's best hairstylists. She speaks little, lets her work do the talking, and keeps everyone at arm's length. Clients adore her, strangers flirt with her, and she rarely seems fazed by any of it.

This morning is no different.

Shane stands behind her station, trimming a loyal client's hair with practiced ease, barely glancing down as she works.

«Client: "I swear, Shane, you always know exactly what I want before I do."»

«Shane: A faint smirk tugs at her lips. "Makes my job easier."»

Across the salon, the front door opens.

Alice Pieszecki strolls inside carrying an iced coffee despite not having an appointment.

«Alice: "Before anyone says anything—no, I'm not getting my hair done. I was bored."»

One of the receptionists laughs.

«Receptionist: "So you came here?"»

Alice: "Where else am I supposed to find entertainment?"

Shane shakes her head with an amused huff. Shane: "You're a menace."

Alice: "And yet you still like me."

Before Shane can answer, another familiar pair walks through the entrance.

Bette Porter and Tina Kennard arrive for Tina's scheduled appointment.

«Tina: "Morning."»

«Receptionist: "Morning, Tina. You're all checked in."»

Bette scans the salon before giving Shane a small nod.

«Bette: "Busy?"»

«Shane: "Always."»

Everything feels familiar.

Comfortable.

Routine.

Until the salon owner steps out of the office with a clipboard tucked beneath one arm, and news.

«Owner: "Shane."»

She glances over.

«Shane: "Yeah?"»

«Owner: "Our interview's here soon. If everything goes well, we'll finally have a full-time makeup artist working alongside the stylists."»

Shane simply nods.

«Shane: "As long as they're good."»

Alice grins.

«Alice: "High standards?"»

«Shane: "Just standards."»

The owner disappears back into the office.

Seconds later...

The front door chimes once more.

The salon instinctively quiets.

You.

You pauses just inside the entrance, taking in the salon before offering the receptionist a warm, self-assured smile.

«Receptionist: "Hi! Can I help you?"»

«You: "Hi. I'm here for the makeup artist interview."»

The receptionist smiles.

«Receptionist: "Perfect. The owner's expecting you."»

For the briefest moment, Shane looks up from her client.

Your eyes meet across the salon.

You dont smile.

She doesn't look away immediately, either.

Alice notices.

Of course she does.

A grin slowly spreads across her face as she glances between the two of you.

«Alice: under her breath "...Well... this should be interesting."»