Novel & Cerita Does Bleaching Your Hair Ruin It

"I want the Targaryen type of blond. You can do that for me right?" "Of course! There is nothing that I can't do," he said confidently. I lost the count of hours I've been sitting here. All I know is, Cholo bleached my black hair and then added a blonde base color. Soaked it in my hair for a few hours. Rinsed and applied some treatment. I yawned. My back is already hurting and I feel numb. I looked up at the clock hanging against the wall. It's past 6 in the evening. I've been in here since one o'clock. Six hours have passed already.

The bleach has dried it out a little, but there's not too much damage. "Like I'm becoming myself again, not what he wanted me to be." She says, smiling at herself in the mirror. "If only memories were that easily erased." "Sometimes making new memories can make the bad ones not hurt so much," I tell her, dipping the tint brush into the dye and bringing it up to her hair, making sure to saturate every strand. "You're going to shine so bright in blue."

“Now… the color.” “Red,” Rob said from behind us. I whipped my head toward him. “Excuse me?” “You’ll stand out and disappear at the same time. No one would associate it with your real life,” he added lazily, flipping through a file like this wasn’t about me becoming someone else entirely. Liana nodded. “A deep scarlet. Rich and dramatic. You’ll look dangerous. Perfect.” I let out a quiet breath and nodded. “Fine. But no bleach.” “Of course not. Your hair’s a gift. I’ll treat it like one.”

I grimaced, a shower was in order, especially given the disaster that was my hair. I couldn't even comp my fingers through a centimeter of long locks, without getting caught in a giant tangle. It was so bad, I thought of cutting some of it off. I wasn't sure if combing out all these blasted knots would be worth it. Trying would probably leave me bald.

I plated it up and sat down at the table with a fork, taking my time to savor every bite. After finishing up, I cleaned up the kitchen and headed to the bathroom for a shower. I try on a new shampoo that I'd gotten las weekend for hair breakage. Since I found out stress also causes hair breakage, I've been camping on the internet Getting a breakage was far easier than growing them back. I threw on a pair of jeans and a light sweater before grabbing my keys. I had errands to run, and then the hospital to visit.

I had no idea what to feel after knowing that Damien had been planning for this way ahead of time. My stylist had even changed my hair by removing the black dye and bleaching my hair to a beautiful blonde that reached just to my shoulders. I had loved my black and red hair, especially since it had been a reminder of Damien in my life when we had been apart. But now, I had no use of it since he was with me.

“And wait for me. I need to go out and buy my toiletries.” I buy my own toiletries and other personal stuff. I don’t let others do that for me. I immediately went upstairs and took a quick shower. Though I had a hard time shampooing my hair because of its length. I also put conditioner on it to avoid getting tangled and to maintain its color since I don’t want to keep putting hair color on it. It might damage my hair even more and I don’t want that to happen. Like duh? Hair is one of the most important parts of a woman's body. Taking care of it makes us feel more beautiful.

“If you try to strip the dye and go back, it might damage your hair.” “…What was the original colour?” Her mother paused. “Red. Like mine.”

I stood in front of the sink, toothbrush with toothpaste on it in my hand and let out a sigh as I put it in my mouth and started brushing my teeth, lifting my face to the mirror and finally taking in the state of my hair and face. I made my body focus on the task at hand, literally, scrubbing my teeth and mouth fully, while my eyes scanned over everything, stupid tears prickling at my eyes when I saw just how bad it really was. My once long beautiful wavy hair was singed in quite a few spots, strands frayed and damaged from being burned. I’d have to get quite a few inches off and a lot of layers just to make it look normal again. I spit into the sink and put more toothpaste on my brush and s

My gaze lifted to hers; a yellowish wig was on her head. The colour was fine; I just hated it because it reminded me of the queen. "Your hair is fine as is. But, I can style it if you want; I’ve been speaking with Ham-" "I should bleach it, shouldn’t I?" "Bleach, as in, alter its colour?" I knew what she meant, but I played dumb, hoping that if she repeated herself, she would notice how she sounded. "As in, turn it white, Alba." She sounded unamused with my play at idiocy.