Fine Hair Choppy Bob นิยาย & เรื่องราว

And cut. I don't cry. I don't hesitate. This hair was the hair Aureliano stroked. This was the hair Spadino buried his face in. This was the hair Ciro held when he fucked me. It has to go. When I am done, my hair is a jagged, chin-length bob. It looks rough. Angry. I take out the box of hair dye. Jet Black. I mix it in the sink. The chemical smell burns my nose. I slap the black sludge onto my head, rubbing it into my scalp until it stains my skin.

He wins by turning my blue highlights blonde. For now. Then comes the cut. He talks about layers and framing, none of which I understand, but when he finally spins the chair around, I barely recognize myself. The shaggy, wild wolf hair is gone, replaced by a sophisticated, soft bob that brushes my collarbone and moves when I shake my head. "There," Marco says, beaming at his reflection in the mirror rather than mine. "Now, you look like a woman who is on her way up. Do you like it?”

He look at me in the mirror and smirked. "You like my hair don't you?" My eyes widened. "Ano? H-hindi ah sayang lang sa shampoo." "Pfft. Mukha bang mamumulubi ako sa shampoo?" Oo nga naman. Bobo ko naman mag isip ng palusot. "Hindi natin sure." I shrugged my shoulders. "I won't cut my hair unless you'll ask for it." He winked. I bit the inside of my cheek and get the magazine. Tama lang sigurong pabawasan ang buhok ko para naman hindi nakakahiya kay rapunzel kapag mas humaba ang ito dahil sa mga banat ni Jonas.

she commented. “This isn't short," I countered. "Exactly,” She replied causing me to chuckle once more, “what do you say we cut it tomorrow, so we can match," She offered as I turned slightly to look at her flipping her short Bob hair. I smiled laying my head back on her lap, grinning. “I personally have no problem with that. I struggled to do my hair in the morning, short hair would be a lot easier," I reasoned.

“Would you still want to go for your signature bob?” The question hung lightly in the air, but Lena felt a peculiar pang in her chest. Her lips pursed as she thought. The stylist behind her was waiting expectantly, comb poised near the crown of her head. Lena met her own eyes in the mirror again, studying the uneven length of her current cut. Ever since she had grown to keep hair, she'd always preferred it long. She'd evolved from her teenage years with bangs. Extra long. Extra short and her most recent curls, before she chopped it for her role. But now that they'd mentioned it, maybe she could still salvage what was left of her after all.

It was just there. “I don’t know,” I said slowly. “Just think about it,” Maya pressed. “New clothes, new energy, new hair. Fresh start and all that.” “Plus,” Judy added, “You’d look hot as hell with a lob.” “A what now?” “A lob. Long bob. Like, shoulder length, maybe some layers?” Judy pulled up a picture on her phone. “Like this.” I looked at the photo. The woman had hair that fell just past her shoulders, layered and looking effortless but expensive.

I told her to go in for the kill and transform me in any way she pleases. “I think maybe a sleek bob, or a pixie cut, would add some maturity to your face. This long hair does nothing but baby you.” The woman gestures behind me and I shrug with indecision. Watching as she pulls it up to simulate a bob and I can see what she means. With the hair lifted and jaw length, it ages me about five years, changing my face shape and the whole look.

“Yes, he did, and I’m so grateful. How far can I go? Is there anything you do—or don’t—want?” “I don’t want anything shorter than a bob. Everything else is up to you.” “Well, Billie, I have an amazing idea, but it will be a huge change. I just get the feeling it would fit you really well.” “What is it?” “What would you say to some curls—a perm? It’s a really natural looking formula and technique, and it’s so easy on hair as long as you continue to condition it. Then I thought, a bob with a couple longer pieces in front, just below chin length?”

“It’s already too helmet-y. We need texture. Something that doesn’t look like his mom still cuts it with a bowl.” “I do not use a bowl!” I protested, my voice muffled by the cape. They both ignored me. Chloe ran her fingers through my hair, which I’ll admit is one of my few decent features. Thick, soft, and black as ink. “He’s got great hair, Jax. Lots to work with. So, you’re thinking more of a textured crop? Keep the length on top, loose and messy?” “Yeah, messy. But like, expensive messy. Not ‘I just rolled out of bed and gave up on life’ messy, which is his current brand.”