Bleached Buzz Cut Grown Out Novels & Stories

“That’s important.” I nodded once. She gestured lightly toward the figures. “Don’t lose the tension.” Her eyes flicked to me briefly, like she was measuring, then she nodded and moved on to other groups scattered around the workshop. I let out a breath I didn’t realize I’d been holding in. People started stepping away to Stretch, talk or reset. I set my brush down carefully, wiping my hands on a cloth. My fingers were stained different shades of green. I got up from my stool, stretched and headed to the restroom.

He narrowed his gaze, “Why?” “To cut my hair. So it will grow back the same length as my bald spot, and it would be all-natural. My hair grows back fast and it would be presentable enough at the time of Clarise and Zane's wedding. Would you help me cut my hair?” She asked as she handed him the clippers. “Of course…” In minutes, all her hair was gone. Ashton handed a mirror to her. “I feel so light,” she says while looking at her head in the mirror.

I went to take a seat in the big salon, other workers were there too and we exchanged greetings. After thirty minutes of talking about what we want, Brad decided to do mine since I want it to be a total make over. I added that he should make me look bad ass by the way. He took out his phone and started videoing the whole process but made sure that there was no mirror around me for me to see myself. He cut a really big part of my hair, leaving it shoulder length. I screamed when I first saw it and my neck felt bare. I felt lighter too. The hair has really been weighing me down.

Mom was coming out right when i stopped at their door, she almost bumped right into me, when i saw her, my mouth dropped open, She was wearing black ripped jeans, a black shirt with spiked knee high boots, her hair was in a high ponytail, shaking my head i gently pushed her back into the room telling her sit down, she looked confused but sat down anyway, “Mom you look hot as h3ll, but i don't like the high ponytail, you look like your going through something like that,” i took out her ponytail, brushed it so it wasn't tangled, my mom had dark long hair, it was almost down to her a$$. so i decided to cut it, we had an hour left, So why not, i cut it where it was in the middle of her back, i

- Oh, yes, the image. We spent about an hour in the beauty salon. The stylist dragged out the pleasure more than sheared the guy. I don't know why, but the girl completely ignored Brandon's icy skin. Copper-colored strands have taken on a new shape. It is shorter on one side, parted on the edge, and the longer part of the hair is thrown back to the left side. Due to the shortened length, a black earring in the ear became visible and part of the tattoo was visible on the neck. Handsome, do not say anything.

Chris helped me with cutting my hair short and into a pixie style. That is what she called it. I don’t really care. They are free and light now. I just need to keep them clean this time and brush them everyday. Well, when they start to grow out again. I head out after letting my cell phone disappear to the same place my knives do. I will hear it even when no one else does. Perks of having this power, I think. What did that guy call it, Magic?

He looked up from the screen and met my eyes. "How about that haircut?" I smirked when he gave me a confused glance. Oh this was going to be good. ~~~ "I can't believe you cut your hair!" Mama had been whining all day since Zach and I returned from the overpriced salon we went to get our hairs done. His cleanly trimmed beards and new stylish haircut made me want to jump him and he wouldn't stop staring at my new look. "Mom it's not a big deal! It'll grow back. Besides I like this look." I bounced my newly bobbed shoulder length hair and loved the shine.

The club owners loved the hair, they found it exotic and Matteo did the same too. With trembling hands, I picked up a pair of scissors, my reflection in the mirror staring back at me with fear yet a glimmer of determination. The first strand of fiery hair fell to the cold bathroom tiles, followed by another and another. As I continued to cut, my hair transformed from a cascade of crimson waves to a short, sleek bob that just grazed my shoulders. Gone were the flashy accessories, replaced by simple, unassuming pieces.

He should love you as you are, Skinny said a lifetime ago. She shook her head. Squeezed her eyes closed. “No, no, no.” Gripped and sawed her hair. “He doesn’t. He wanted brown.” Pulled and parted and sliced. “He chose brown.” Chopped the platinum free, letting it fall to her shoulders. “That’s an answer right there. Brown not blonde.” Hair fluttered to land at her knees, peroxide strands littering the stranger’s wide knees and pudgy feet. Soon her palm raced over a bare scalp, fingertips discovering jagged and peeling nicks she never felt. Slick, bleeding cuts she failed to notice. The blade returned, the spit in her hand wetting the remaining tufts as she shaved close.

“THIS IS JUST like when we were teenagers.” I grin up at Bryce, who scowls because I moved. She has a pair of scissors in one hand and a lock of my hair in the other, and she’s thinning the edges like a professional hairstylist. I’ve bleached my hair to a respectable housewife blond, and now, Bryce’s giving me a shoulder-length layered ‘do. “Remember when you shaved the side of my head and dyed the bangs purple?”