Fine Hair Short Choppy Bob Novels & Stories

I said the second she stepped inside. Avery blinked at me like I’d just suggested we rob a bank. “Cut your hair as in…trim? Layers?” “No,” I said, voice steady but low. “I want it short.” Her mouth opened. Closed. Then opened again. “Short short?” I nodded. “Like…a curly bob. Side part. I just…” I swallowed. “I want it gone. That hair held too many memories.” Avery didn’t argue, she just smiled and grabbed her cat keys of the counter.

“What the fuck did you do to your hair?” She flops into the chair with a huff. “I knew you’d hate it.” Reaching over, I run my fingers through the rough cut. A natural blonde like me, Heather has butchered her long locks into a terrible above-the-shoulders bob with streaks of black and red throughout. “It looks like a prison haircut.”

She inquired right before she took a chunk of my hair from the ends and chopped it off. "I want to start afresh, I want to leave the past behind and see what the future holds in store for me." I explained. I couldn't explain how it was tied down to my hair but the more Clara expertly nipped off my waist long hair into a neat bob, I could feel the weight on my chest become lighter. "All done," she announced and I stared at myself in the mirror. "It actually doesn't look bad," she commented and she was right. The cut was perfect as it fell right above my shoulders and if not for my puffy eyes and even puffier cheeks, I would have considered myself beautiful.

Even though it was not her full dimpled smile, it was still better than the frown. The hairdresser stepped back, removing the cloth from Zara’s neck and brushing away the stray hair. As Zara had chopped her hair very unevenly, the hairdresser gave her a pixie bob. Her chocolate-colored hair was slicked back and a fringe with short hair framed her elfish face, bringing out her sharp bone structure. “Do you like it, Princess?” The hairdresser asked with a meek voice, afraid of her rejection. Zara grinned at her and bowed her head. “I love it, thank you so much!”

My rebirth. My hair was chopped to a sleek, shoulder-brushing cut dyed the color of ashes mixed with silver. Elizabeth styled it with a precision only years of high-end training could produce. The sharpness of the cut and the tint reshaped my entire face. She used contouring to lift my cheekbones, make my jaw slimmer, hide the softness pregnancy had left behind. Then, she bleached my brows and darkened them again into an unfamiliar arch that made my eyes icy, predatory, mysterious. “I don’t believe this,” I whispered, my voice cracking slightly.

Like you’re floating? Next comes the cream—thick, fragrant, sweet like whipped vanilla frosting. My hair is massaged and wrapped, then unwrapped. A heated machine hovers over me. Brushes glide. Clips click. Matteo is everywhere at once, barking soft commands and making tiny, precise adjustments. Minutes pass. Maybe hours. Finally, I’m led to a mirror. I stop. My breath catches. My dark brown hair shines under the lights, a new luster in every wave. The style is elegant yet modern—soft volume, curled ends, a parting that frames my face perfectly.

I quickly grabbed a towel which turned out to be Athena's, wrapped it over my body and went straight to assess myself in the mirror. I smirked in approval of my appearance. My cheekbones were less visible, giving my face a rounder look. My wide, brown eyes still had their mischievous, wicked glint...as they should. More color was beginning to appear on my usually pale skin and my hair, my lovely blonde hair never looked more perfect. Athena helped me with a haircut earlier today, now my hair is in a wavy, shoulder - length bob style. I could literally see the looks of dissaproval from my parents in my mind, and that was what made the haircut even more suitable. I do whatever the fuck I want

It was cut into a sleek, chin length bob that framed her face beautifully. “Your hair is shorter than usual,” I said, reaching out to touch the ends gently. “It looks really good on you.” Celine smiled, running a hand through the silvery strands with a playful shrug. “I was going for a new look. Something fresh. Do you like it?”

That was final. She looked at herself in the mirror as the stylist examined her hair. She hadn't had it cut in years (saving her limited money) and it was extremely long. Too long. That said, she didn't want it all cut off. It was a beautiful chestnut color, slightly wavy, soft, and she preferred it long. The stylist had suggested a short bob but she asked for it to reach her mid back. Catherine had backed her up and the stylist finally agreed. She was beginning to work on it and Lucy was comforted to see the limited amount she was removing.

She must have read the cluelessness on my face and took mercy on me, because she turned and addressed the male stylist looking at me expectantly. “I was thinking a tapered pixie with a side parting would suit her delicate features.” I had no idea what she was talking about, but she was clicking around on her phone and then showed me a photo. It was shorter than I had planned, but I liked the idea of something so radically different from how I already looked. “Her hair has a natural texture that would work well.”