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Author's Chapter Notes:

Disclaimer: I don’t own anything to do with The Office (except my DVDs) or Wicked (except my mug and my copy of The Grimmerie). Please don’t sue.


Special thanks to  [info]angryhaiku
 , who knows melodrama when she sees it. Seven Moths FTW!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

1. (So let’s start, because you’ve got an awfully long way to go)

 

Pam props her chin in the palm of her hand, hypnotized by Kelly’s relentless happy chatter and the rhythmic bobbing of Ryan’s head. They’re the perfect lunch companions, sparing her the need to make conversation. She picks at her salad, avoiding the plate of defrosted wedding chicken. One more week, and the leftovers will be gone; the last trace of the wedding that wasn’t. She has been forcing herself to eat every serving, instead of just throwing them away. It’s a test of will, and maybe a punishment. For what, she’s not sure yet.

 

Kelly’s babble halts, ending on a question. “Don’t you agree, Pam?”

 

Pam answers Kelly without thinking, glancing up from her efforts to scoop a sunflower seed from the rim of her Tupperware. “Sure.”

 

Ryan’s head turns in her direction, shaking now instead of nodding. Pam lets her fork drop. Wait, what did she just agree to?

 

Kelly grins, quivering with excitement. “I promise you won’t be sorry. I’m going to be like your fairy godmother or something. And you’ll be Cinderella, but without the creepy mice.”

 

Pam’s eyes widen as she connects all the dots. “You’re going to give me a make over?”

 

“Of course!” Kelly frowns. “What did you think I was talking about?”

 

A weak smile manages to form on Pam’s lips. “No, that’s what I thought. I was just checking. It’s such a…generous…offer. Are you sure?”

 

“Trust me, Pam. I know exactly what you need. I notice stuff about you that needs fixing all the time.”

 

“Oh. Good.”

Kelly continues, oblivious to Pam’s disheartened look. “It won’t just be your hair. I’ll help you with your clothes, your shoes…” she giggles, “and boys!”

 

Ryan chokes on a mouthful of his sandwich.

 

Pam is on the verge of protesting, until she glances down at the same striped shirt she’s been wearing for the last three years, then admires Kelly’s vibrant emerald shirt, unwarranted joy and carefully styled hair.

 

Why not? she thinks. What harm could it do?

 

 *

 

A few days pass, and Pam thinks that maybe Kelly has forgotten, until Kelly chooses the seat next to her during a potentially long meeting about traditional sales values. Which actually ends up being a recap of Casablanca, It’s A Wonderful Life, and inexplicably, Flashdance.

 

Kelly loops her arm through Pam’s. “Before we begin, I want you to promise that you’ll do what I say, no matter how strange it may seem, without question.”

 

“I don’t think so.” Pam whispers, keeping her eyes on Michael as he butchers an impression of Humphrey Bogart. Or Luke Perry. It’s hard to tell.

 

“I’m serious. If you really want to change, you have to do things that are going to make you freak out a little. It’ll seem scary at first, but when you see the results, you’ll thank me.” She grabs Pam’s hand and examines the state of her cuticles.

 

“There are going to be things that scare me?”

 

“Well, your eyebrows need some work. And there are a few colors that I think would look good on you that I know you’re going to hate at first.” Kelly liberates Pam’s fingers from her vice-like grip and bounces in her seat, diverted by Michael’s re-enactment of Jennifer Beals warming up to She’s a Maniac. “Don’t you just love the scene when she falls down at her audition, but then she gets up and finishes anyway?”

 

Fortunately, Michael pulls his groin doing a jeté and they’re all dismissed before Kelly can suggest they start taking pole dance classes in the evenings instead of working out. 

 

 

2: (the proper ploys when you talk to boys).

 

The first lesson, dispensed over pedicures (“We’ll work our way up, starting with your toes.” Kelly explains) is a spectacular failure, at least in Pam’s eyes. Kelly, however, seems quite pleased with Pam’s aptitude.

 

“Since you don’t have a particular guy in mind, I’ll just give you some general pointers about dating. Now, I bet you think guys really like that shy, wallflower thing you have going on. Or that a sense of humor goes a long way. But I’m here to tell you that it’s a complete fabrication by girls who can’t be bothered to do their hair.”

 

Pam flinches, racking her brain for evidence to the contrary, remembers shared jokes and timid smiles that somehow led to I’m in love with you. “But Jim says that looks aren’t important.”

 

Kelly waves her hand, almost knocking a bottle of deep red polish off the tray next to her elbow. “Who cares about stupid Jim? He may be way, way cute, but he doesn’t know anything about relationships. This one time, Ryan totally stood me up, for like the 18th time in a row, and so I asked him ‘Jim! Why would he do that?’ And do you know what he said?” The esthetician grimaces as she attempts to restrain Kelly’s twitching foot.

 

She has a fairly good idea, but since this conversation doesn’t require her input, Pam shakes her head instead.

 

“I’ll tell you what he said: ‘Maybe he’s trying to tell you that he’s not interested.’ Can you believe it? What an idiot. Of course Ryan was interested. I mean he’s in love with me, isn’t he? He was just scared of his feelings and reacted the only way he had been taught by his father: avoid the situation. That’s what you have to understand about men, Pam. They’re formed by their environment. And if you know where they’re coming from, you can figure out the proper way to relate to them. Ryan was hiding from his emotions, so I just didn’t leave him alone until he faced them. Oh, and also, he likes to think he’s better than everyone else. Sometimes, I pretend I don’t know about stuff, because it makes him so happy when he’s smarter than me.”

 

“So your advice on men would be…” There’s a sinking feeling in her gut.

 

“Isn’t it obvious? Find out as much information as possible about them, even if it means reading their emails or talking to their ex-girlfriends.”

 

“Um…” Pam briefly tries to imagine running into Katy at Starbucks and discussing Jim’s sexual hang-ups over Caramel Macchiatos. Not that that she’s, you know, dating Jim or anything. It’s just an example her brain helpfully supplied.

 

Kelly continues, without pause: “And always let them believe that you don’t know what you’re talking about, because then they’ll never suspect that you’re really the one in control of the relationship. You should only use your power when most advantageous.”

 

“You mean, play dumb?”

 

Kelly beams proudly. “Exactly! You’re such a quick learner, I think you’re ready for a practice date. I’ve already told my neighbor Alan that you’d come out tomorrow night. He’s a painter, like you…”

 

“Oh?”

 

“Or, a cartoonist? That’s the same thing, right?”

 

 

3. (I’ll show you what shoes to wear)

 

Kelly’s cherry red Volkswagen Beetle zips into a Viewmont Mall parking stall, guided by a practiced hand. “Don’t forget what we talked about Pam. You have to stick to the list.”

 

“I’ve got it, Kelly.” She doesn’t, really. Her mission is to buy three things that make her feel pretty, and aren’t even slightly practical. There had been homework: a stack of Vogue, Elle, InStyle and alarmingly, Cosmo. She had blanched at a six page spread of fluorescent patent leather stilettos in Vogue, pushed the magazines under her couch and decided to wing it once she was in the mall. Surely something was bound to catch her eye that wouldn’t require a future of ankle surgery.

 

They head straight for the Macy’s, which Kelly describes as “one stop shopping help for the hopelessly unstylish.” (Pam made the mistake of asking about Forever 21, and was matter-of-factly informed that she was not ready for a concept so advanced.)

 

Pam wanders listlessly between the departments, prodding at safe grey skirts, boring black loafers and one or two cardigans that she already owns.

 

Kelly appears at her side as if from nowhere with an armload of items that both intrigue and terrify her. “I can see you’re going to need a little guidance. Let’s get you in a fitting room.”

 

Once Pam has her clothes off, the lighting is horrifying and she wishes she’d worn better underwear, since Kelly doesn’t seem to care about things like privacy or dignity. She simply whips the curtain aside at shockingly frequent intervals, shoving more items onto the pile while simultaneously exposing Pam to passing shoppers. It works, though, because eventually Pam is so embarrassed that there’s no where to go but up. After twenty minutes, she’s outside the room, going through her final choices in jeans and a bra, while Kelly cheerleads and talks her into a few things she normally wouldn’t have the courage to try. “I know you keep saying that this isn’t for you, but secretly you’re loving it. You are! Look at your face. Just because you can appreciate looking nice, doesn’t mean you’re shallow. Look at Princess Di.” As she gives a leaf green halter dress a second chance at Kelly’s insistence, Kelly announces: “See? You have a totally hot body.”

 

Pam examines herself in the mirror, and for once, doesn’t disagree. She reluctantly puts her old clothes back on, collects her armload of new outfits and follows Kelly willingly to the shoe department.

 

 

4: (How to fix that hair):

 

The day they learn the Stamford branch is going to be the one closing, Kelly corners Pam in the break room. “It’s pretty good news, isn’t it?”

“Yeah, I guess. I wasn’t really looking forward to finding another job.”

 

“Sure, that too. But I was thinking about what a good opportunity this will be for you.”

 

“Opportunity?” Pam echoes, thinking of Jim and their unfinished phone call. Their unfinished business.

 

“The guys from Connecticut could be totally hot.” Kelly gasps, clearly hit by a sudden brainwave. “You know what you should do?  You should call Jim and ask him if any of the guys are single!”

“Oh, I…”

 

“Unless that might be weird? You know, because he used to have that super awkward crush on you when he worked here. Oh my God, what if he’s still into you?”

 

Pam forces a chuckle. “I’m sure he’s over it. That was a long time ago.” It’s a good thing Kelly isn’t really listening, since her voice breaks over the last few words. Which is strange, because she’s completely okay with the whole thing. Completely. She’s just excited to see a friend that has been gone for a while. That’s all.

 

“Anyway…” Kelly carries on, unaware of Pam’s emotional crisis. “We’ll have to do something with your hair so you can make a good first impression. None of the guys are going to notice you like that. And what happened to those new shirts you bought?”

 

“They’re at the cleaners.” Pam lies, on a roll. She doesn’t want to get into how she’d gotten home after their shopping excursion to an empty apartment, answering machine and heart. All her new-found self-confidence had gone up in a puff of smoke.

 

Kelly frowns skeptically. “Still? That’s what you said last week.”

 

Pam deflects the interrogation by changing the subject back to her hair, letting it out of her barrette. “What do you think I should try?”

 

“Have you ever straightened it?” Kelly lifts a curl and examines it for split ends.

 

“Once, for my sister’s wedding. Her maid of honor did it with a hairdryer.” Kelly gives her a look that suggests she’s said something blasphemous. “What?”

 

“A hairdryer? On your hair? Why don’t you just stick your finger in a electrical socket? I bet it looked awful. What kind of product did she use?”

 

Pam pulls away and smoothes her hair back into its fastener. “I don’t know. Hairspray?”

 

“Oh, ew. You had better be talking about the musical. You’re coming over tonight and I’m going to show you your hair’s true potential. Underneath all that frizz, I bet it’s really healthy. It probably hasn’t seen a curling iron in years.”

 

“May. Seven months ago,” Pam corrects. “Isn’t this a lot of effort? No one at work cares what I look like.”

 

“Pam. We both know that’s not true. There’s Roy, and Jim had that crush on you…”

 

“Okay, okay! I get it.”

 

“And you’ll never meet a guy like Ryan if you don’t try.”

 

“I don’t want a guy like Ryan” she mutters under her breath, but Kelly still catches it.

 

“What’s wrong with Ryan?” Her tone has changed from champagne bubbles to snake venom.

 

Pam mentally scrolls down a list in her head, but manages instead: “Oh, he’s just not my type. I like…green eyes.”

 

Kelly heaves a beleaguered sigh, temporarily disarmed. “Pam, you have so much to learn. Green eyes don’t matter in the bedroom, as long as they’ll go dow....”

 

Pam cringes at the graphic image. “Point taken. I’ll keep an open mind about eye color.”

 

Kelly winks knowingly. “That’s all I ask. You won’t be sorry.”

 

Too late, Pam thinks, until she realizes that somewhere along the way she has stopped dreading these little lessons and started looking forward to them. “Thanks.” Her gratitude is genuine. “What time should I come over tonight?”

 

 

5: (Think of it as personality dialysis):

 

They’re at the mall one Saturday after Christmas (an increasingly frequent occurrence), using post-holiday sales as retail therapy. Anything to take Pam’s mind off the whole Karen and Jim situation she has to face everyday at work. She suspects Kelly knows the reason for her recent depression, and she has been uncharacteristically sensitive about the whole thing. They’re taking a breather from the crowds in the food court, relaxing to Kelly’s running commentary about the fashion tragedies of small town shoppers.

 

Kelly stops mid-stream of consciousness and takes a sip of her soda. “Can I tell you a secret, Pam?”

 

“Sure.”

 

“I’m not always happy. Sometimes I’m pretending.” Her tone is so nonchalant that Pam has to do a double take. “Like, when I answer the phone at work, I make sure I’m fizzy and excited. Customers call for service and they’re all rage-y, because something totally shitty is happening in their day, so it’s nice for them to talk to someone who sounds so happy to hear from them. When I’m out with Ryan’s friends, I’m flirty and funny, because then they like me and encourage him to keep dating me. I mean come on, like he could do better. At home, I’m a seductress. That’s Ryan’s favourite, but I can’t show that side of myself at work, or he would never get anything done. Like that time we had sex in the stairwell because I was demonstrating the scene in Legally Blonde where Reese shows that older lady how to drop a pencil but pick up a guy.”

 

Pam almost drops her Diet Coke. “The stairwell?”

 

Kelly nods enthusiastically. “It was way hot. Selective personalities, I call it.” She adds, elaborating on her constantly shifting moods.

 

Multiple personalities, more like, Pam thinks, but only nods instead, feeling slightly disloyal to her mentor.

 

“What I’m getting at is that sometimes you have to trick yourself. No one wants to know what you’re really feeling, especially men.” She falls silent, raising an eyebrow at a passing middle-aged woman wearing a sweater with kittens in Santa hats. “What the hell? It’s not even Christmas anymore, lady. In what disturbing universe is that okay?”

 

Pam looks over at Kelly’s glossy make-up and immaculate hair with new eyes. Underneath that groomed exterior and façade of peppiness she is desperate for love and acceptance, just like everyone else, but she projects how great she is, and you sort of get sucked into it. It’s kind of beautiful. She vows to stop judging Kelly so much and start listening to her problems more. That’s what friends are for, right? Because against all odds, that’s what Kelly has become. Her friend.

 

Her crazy, crazy friend.

 

 

6: (It’s not about aptitude; it’s the way you’re viewed):

 

Halfway through the bus ride out to Lake Scranton, immediately following a sing-a-long comprised mostly of TV themes and Uncool Hits of the Early Eighties, Kelly clambers over Ryan and makes Andy get up so she can sit next to Pam. Andy stands in the aisle, momentarily flustered, before realizing his good fortune and eagerly claiming the empty spot next to Michael. Ryan sighs with relief and leans back in his seat. Pam can see his head turned to one side so he can hear Kelly talking through the gap in the seats. It’s sweet, actually.

 

Kelly pokes at the strap of Pam’s brown polka dot bikini curiously. “Is this a two piece, Pam? You’re going to look gorgeous, showing off that pale skin. The boys will go nuts.” Her voice carries all the way to the front of the bus, eliciting a snicker from Kevin.

 

Pam sneaks a glance at the back of Jim’s baseball cap as Karen’s fist visibly tenses on her armrest. “That’s not exactly what I was trying for.”

 

“Why not? What is the point of sharing all my wisdom with you if you aren’t going to take advantage of it and get the guys falling all over you? Right, Ryan?”

 

Ryan’s profile disappears from view. “Leave me out of this, Kelly.”

 

“Why don’t you ever show interest in anything that’s important to me, Ryan? I do stuff you want all the time, like watch that stupid porno with all those girls doing one guy, and I play that lame video game with the zombies. I hate zombies, Ryan. They’re gross and scary.”

 

“Kelly, not here. Please.”

 

Kelly huffs and slumps back in her seat. “Whatever. I’m not making out with girls or shooting the undead for you any more.”

 

There is a long silence. Everyone on the bus has gone completely still: uncomfortable, amused or turned on. Judging by the way Michael is fidgeting, in some cases it’s a combination of all three.

 

Kelly sulks for a few minutes, and then turns back to Pam like the argument never happened. “I know it seems like all this physical improvement is really important, but I have one last lesson: if you think you’re awesome, then you are.” She thinks for a moment, then adds loudly, so all the bus’s passengers can easily hear: “Even if your boyfriend is an asshole.”

 

*

 

Later, Pam stands at the edge of a coal walk, heart still stinging from an entire day of feeling small and never good enough, when suddenly all of Kelly’s advice comes back to her. Change is scary, but worth it in the long run. Looking good is a state of mind, but nice shoes can’t hurt. Men aren’t always worth the trouble. Never let a hack blow dry your hair. Everyone has their own insecurities to deal with and being a coward does not make you special. A friend is a wonderful thing. And you don’t have to be brave or beautiful, but if you believe you are, so will everyone else. And one day, with a little faith, it’ll be true.

 

As Pam pours her heart out by firelight, it occurs to her that this wasn’t the kind of make-over Kelly intended.

 

As she cools her feet by moonlight, she thinks: Maybe not. But this is even better.

 



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