Bleached Buzz Cut Grown Out Novels & Stories

“Alright, Sky. There is no going back if I cut it now.” “You mean being a commander of a bunch of rag tag wolves?” He chuckled and nodded. “That and it’s gonna take a while for your hair to grow back.” I nodded, taking a deep breath. “I’m ready.” Grabbing the scissors, he began cutting my long blonde hair. It fell to the floor and I watched as it piled up. Then came the buzzing sound of the razor. Closing my eyes, I felt him slowly run from the base of my head all the way up to my forehead. He continued, making lines along my head.

he exclaims and stands up, "Sit here Beau, it's your turn." "I want my hair really short, just like yours," he says, looking at me with excited eyes. "No, buddy, your mom loves your curly hair," I say, he deflates a little, "Give him the basic cut too, but leave it a little longer on top. Long enough so he still has some curls or I won't have a wedding at all." Mike does his thing and by the end Beau is as excited as his brother about his first real cut not done by Nukea in the bathroom with some old scissors. They look good.

I groaned as I woke up from my alarm groggily, and pushed my hair back with one hand. My long wavy silver hair was now chopped off till my shoulders. Not that I looked bad, though. It had been a week now with my new wolf cut hair that my mom did for me. And it turned out, I was actually born for this haircut. The best part is I don't even need to style it with blow dryer and curlers like others as strangely my hair stays in like that even when I wake up.

My eyes are big and brown just like my brother's and my full eyelashes make me look even more ridiculously young. After more research in the bathroom, I find a hair clipper so I give myself a buzz-cut. Now I totally look like someone else without all the hair on my head and my beard. I look like a college kid who has no worries other than having fun and getting drunk on the weekend. I used to want to be like that, until I found out there were more important things.

she asks looking at me with confusion, I know how to do lots of things. “Of course, I do” I say pulling her back into the bathroom, I closed the toilet seat and made her sit there, I got my scissors and started to cut a bit from the length. Elle sat quietly watching me work through her locks, I added some layers, something I learned from Brad Mondo on youtube, a girl gets bored sometimes. “Done,” I say messing with her hair, she looks at herself in the mirror before turning back to me with pleading eyes. “Can I have bangs?” she asks, I didn’t mind adding bangs to her haircut, I thought they’d go well with her face.

The minty flavor of the toothpaste invigorated my senses, making me feel refreshed and ready to take on the day ahead. Next, I reached for my razor, ready to shave my beard. I had grown it a little longer while I was away, but I knew that I had to keep myself presentable. I started shaving, taking care in every stroke, but unfortunately, I wound myself in the process. A small cut on my chin that I knew would take a few hours to heal. I sighed, a little disappointed in myself for not being more careful, but I pressed on, completing the rest of my shave.

Then there was Bash, checking his phone, my head on his chest, while he caressed my hair and occasionally kissed the side of my chest as though he was doing that without his knowledge. My hair held so many memories. Now, I reached the end of my patience. So, I looked for a video tutorial to cut my hair at home and found a tutorial for butterfly cut. My front bangs were long grown. When I finally cut my hair at home, I felt fresh. It crossed my shoulder and reached an inch above my chest. I look good except for my under-eye darkness. 'Soon,' I tell myself. 'I will be fine soon.' When I went to the office the next day, Mateo assessed my hair for five minutes with a look of approval. "I saw thi

He could feel the collar around his neck fading away. Soon, the haircut was done. Evan stood before the mirror, looking at his reflection. The style change made him handsome, his lines sharp. Evan was more aggressive now, inside out. He had the air of a real man. Buzzcut was a true test of a man's looks. The idol look still made him look good, but it lacked a man’s powerful air. Now he had that air. His eyes blazed like roaring braziers shining with energy. The bodyguard watched the whole trim, and he was stunned. All Evan did was trim his hair, and it almost felt like he had a total makeover.

I reached up slowly. Bald before twenty, that’s what I was thinking. Cool, Jason Statham hardman kind of bald? No chance. More like burns victim with alopecia. The hair on my head was still there. In fact, there was more of it than I remembered. I didn’t bother too much with my hair. I let it grow and occasionally sliced bits off when they got in my face. But now the strands were noticeably longer than before. My beard, which was patchy at the best of times, also felt heavier.

I just needed it gone. The long, dark locks that used to fall into his eyes when he laughed, the hair I used to run my fingers through in the dark—it fell into the sink in thick, wet clumps. I cut it down until it was nothing but a rough, uneven buzz cut, revealing the jagged white scar near his temple from some old street fight he’d never told me about. "You look different already," I whispered, rubbing the harsh chemical bleach through the short bristles of his hair. "Make it quick," he grunted, his eyes closed tight against the sting of the fumes. "This stuff smells like battery acid."