Punk party makeover!!!

Lisa had nothing. No costume, no plan, no time. The punk-themed party was tonight, and unlike her three best friends, who had spent weeks preparing, Lisa had been too busy with school, procrastination, and assuming she could just throw something together last minute. Now, standing in Claire’s room—aka punk HQ—she realized she was completely at their mercy.

“We got you,” Claire smirked, cracking her knuckles like an evil mastermind. “By the time we’re done, you’ll look like you’ve fronted a punk band for years.”

Lisa glanced warily at her three friends. Claire, Riley, and Jade were already dressed in full punk glory. Claire had gone all out with a bright red mohawk, ripped mesh top, plaid skirt, and combat boots. Riley had a mess of teased black-and-blue hair, thick eyeliner, and a leather jacket covered in safety pins. Jade rocked a high ponytail with shaved sides, oversized band tee, fishnets, and boots with enough spikes to be considered a weapon. They all had a rebellious gleam in their eyes—one that made Lisa deeply nervous.

“I was thinking…maybe I just wear a band tee and jeans?” Lisa tried weakly.

The three of them groaned in unison.

“Oh no,” Riley said, shaking her head. “We’re way past that.”

Lisa barely had time to protest before they shoved a pile of clothes into her arms. Within minutes, she was laced into a black corset top, a tattered plaid skirt, and—of course—fishnets. The final touch? A pair of stompy boots with metal buckles.

“Perfect,” Jade grinned. “Now for the real work.”

Lisa swallowed. “What do you mean, real—”

Claire grabbed her by the shoulders and sat her down in front of the mirror. “Time for hair.”

Lisa’s scalp tingled with dread as Claire sectioned her long brown hair and clipped pieces away like a pro. “Alright,” Claire said, running her fingers through it. “You’ve got good volume, but we need more edge. We’ll take the sides down super short, leave a strip in the middle, and texturize the top.”

Lisa blinked. “That sounds like a—”

“Mohawk.” Claire grinned, already grabbing the clippers.

“Nope. Nope, nope, nope—”

But the buzz had already begun. The vibrations tingled against her scalp as Claire carved away the hair on both sides of her head. The sensation was oddly soothing, though Lisa wasn’t sure if it was from shock or genuine enjoyment. Claire worked quickly, snipping at the top to give it some choppy layers before grabbing a can of neon green spray.

“Close your eyes,” Claire ordered.

Lisa obeyed, feeling a fine mist settle onto her head. When she opened them, the strip of hair left standing was now electric green and standing nearly upright.

Riley let out a low whistle. “Oh yeah. That’s sick.”

Lisa wasn’t sure if she wanted to cry or high-five them. Maybe both.

“Now for piercings,” Jade announced, holding up a sterilized needle.

Lisa’s stomach dropped. “I—I don’t need piercings—”

Riley rolled her eyes. “Lisa, babe. You need at least a few… We also got new piercings for the party.”

Lisa looked up to see Riley flicking a ring in her eyebrow, Claire flashing an extra hoop in her lip, and Jade lifting her shirt slightly to reveal a fresh belly piercing of her own.

Before she could escape, they had her sitting back in the chair, Claire pressing a cold wipe to her earlobe. “You’ll thank us later.”

Lisa winced as the needle went through her ear, the sting sharper than she expected. Then another. Then another. She lost count after four.

“There,” Claire said, handing her a mirror. Her ears now glimmered with tiny studs and hoops, one with a dangling safety pin.

Lisa exhaled. “Okay, that wasn’t so bad.”

“Cool, now your nose.”

“Wait—”

Too late. Lisa yelped as the needle went through her nose, a sharp pinch followed by a rush of heat. A tiny hoop suddenly was in her nostril. “Oh my god, oh my god, that was horrible.”

She barely had time to recover before Claire and Riley grabbed her hands and pressed them onto the table.

“What are you doing?” Lisa asked, confused.

“Adding details,” Riley grinned “Some black nail polish, too.”

Lisa frowned. “That sounds like—ow!”

She felt tiny pinpricks against her skin but was too overwhelmed to protest.

Lisa groaned. “Why does this feel like you’re putting in way more than nail polish?”

“No reason.”

Lisa narrowed her eyes. Suspicious. But there was no time to argue as Jade suddenly pushed her back into the chair. “Belly piercing time.”

Lisa’s mouth opened to protest, but before she could, cold metal touched her stomach. Then—a sharp, unexpected sting.

“GAH!”

“Done!” Jade chirped. “Cute little barbell. Very punk.”

Lisa wheezed. “You people are monsters.”

“We prefer artists,” Riley said casually, “we got a few tats for the party, too.”

Lisa huffed. “Yeah? Where are your tattoos then?”

The three of them shared a look before revealing their hands, each sporting tiny, shaky designs from their own DIY efforts. “Handmade,” Jade said proudly. “Like the ancients did.”

Lisa had to admit… it was kind of cool. She was still fuming, still overwhelmed—but a tiny part of her was intrigued.

“Alright, moment of truth,” Claire said, turning her toward the full-length mirror.

Lisa braced herself and looked.

The girl staring back at her was unrecognizable. The green mohawk. The layered piercings. The dark eyeshadow and smeared black lipstick. The shredded plaid, the fishnets, the boots. She looked dangerous. She looked loud. She looked…

Kind of amazing.

“…I look like I belong in a punk band,” she mumbled.

“Exactly,” Riley said. “And now, we party.”

Lisa had a sneaking suspicion she hadn’t yet realized the full extent of their work, but just just grabbed her jacket and headed out the door.

The party was already in full swing by the time Lisa and her friends arrived. The place was a sweaty, chaotic mess of ripped fishnets, combat boots, and aggressively styled hair. The music was loud enough to rattle Lisa’s bones, and the air smelled like a questionable mix of beer, hairspray, and possibly burning leather.

Lisa’s initial plan was to stick to the shadows, sip whatever cheap drink they were serving, and try not to think about how tight her borrowed corset was. But that idea went out the window the moment her friends shoved her into the crowd, announcing, “Make way for the freshest punk in town!”

People actually cheered. Some guy with a mohawk saluted her with his beer. Lisa had no idea what to do with that information, so she just nodded like she’d been born for this life.

As the night went on, Lisa got caught up in the atmosphere. She headbanged (which hurt because her new mohawk had a LOT of product in it), danced in a circle of people slamming into each other (which she later learned was a “mosh pit”), and accepted way too many compliments on her look.

“You committed hard, respect,” one girl told her, eyeing her piercings.

“Uh, yeah,” Lisa said, touching her ear. “Hard commitment. Totally.”

She should have questioned that. She really should have.

Hours later, Lisa finally got a breather in the bathroom, staring at her smudged black lipstick in the cracked mirror. She felt different. Cooler, even. The reflection looking back at her wasn’t the Lisa who almost showed up in a hoodie and jeans. It was someone new, someone reckless—

Then she adjusted her corset.

A sharp sting shot through her chest.

Lisa froze.

She poked the area cautiously. Another sharp zing of pain. Slowly, horrified, she peeled down the corset just enough to see—

“Oh my GOD.”

There, glinting under the fluorescent light, was a tiny silver barbell.

Lisa slammed her hands over her mouth to keep from screaming.

“No. No. No.”

Her friends burst into the bathroom at her dramatic gasp. “Lisa, what—”

Lisa pointed frantically at her chest. “WHY IS THERE METAL IN MY NIPPLE?”

Her friends blinked. Then, as if perfectly synchronized, they erupted into laughter.

“Oh yeah,” Claire cackled. “We, uh, might’ve forgotten to mention that one.”

Lisa grabbed her by the collar. “When?!”

“I dunno! Somewhere between the belly ring and the stick-and-poke tattoos?” Riley snorted. “You were pretty distracted.”

Lisa’s brain short-circuited. “WHAT STICK-AND-POKE TATTOOS?”

Jade reached over, grabbed Lisa’s wrist, and flipped it over to reveal a tiny, slightly wobbly anarchy symbol on her thumb. “This one. Oh, and there’s another on your shoulder. A little safety pin. You were so chill about it. And a cute lightning bolt behind your ear.”

Lisa’s eyes bugged out. She barely even remembered getting the belly piercing. How had she managed to sit still for multiple tattoos AND a nipple piercing without noticing?!

Her friends were losing it. “Dude, you’re the toughest out of all of us,” Claire said between wheezes. “I screamed when I got my nose pierced! But you? Sat there like a champ while we turned you into a punk masterpiece.”

Lisa stared at them. Then at herself. Then back at them. “I was NUMB. From PAIN AND SHOCK.”

“Same difference.”

Lisa groaned, dragging a hand down her face. “What am I supposed to do with a nipple piercing?!”

Claire grinned. “Own it. Welcome to the club.” She yanked down her own top slightly to reveal matching jewelry. “See? It’s a bonding experience.”

Lisa wanted to pass out.

By the time the party wound down, Lisa had made peace (sort of) with her irreversible makeover. Sure, she was going to have some questions for herself in the morning, but for now? She was having fun.

No one even mentioned the costume contest. Lisa only found out later that she had technically won, but some other guy took the trophy home because she was too busy yelling in the bathroom about her nipple.

Which, honestly? Fair.

Lisa, just wanted revenge.

But for now, she just sat on the curb outside the venue, hair still stiff with hairspray, fingers tracing the tiny safety pin tattoo on her shoulder, and thought:

“…I can’t believe I’m too punk to function.”