Level 9 Bleached Hair Novels & Stories

"Ugly faced bitch," Years ago, those words would have cut deep into her but she had grown immune to it. Nine had jet black hair that she kept long since she was too busy to cut it and the last time she did, had made a horrible mistake that got her bullied for a very long time. Still, that hadn't been the problem. Nine was pale skinned, and had barely any meat on her body which gave her a plain scarecrow look but the one thing that got people freaked out were her eyes. They were round and completely onyx black. Like two void holes that promised to suck everything in it's sight.

Kate clicked the Hair tab and she was presented with a whole gamut of men’s hairstyles: undercut, curly, layered, wave, Harajuku matted style, asymmetrical emo, mohawk, crew cut, man bun, spiky, flat top, dreads, Elvis… Kate thought it was because the app-maker was Japanese or hair dyes were sold separately, but all the hairstyles were black. It was a good thing though because she was already having a hard time just picking the style. She settled on Layered after a great deal of toing and froing.

"This stuff smells like battery acid." "It’s supposed to," I said. After twenty minutes of scrubbing and rinsing his head with a cheap plastic cup, I patted his head dry with a rough motel towel. When he looked up into the cracked mirror, he didn't look like Nikolai Draven anymore. The jet-black hair was completely gone, replaced by a rough, patchy, peroxide-blonde crop that looked like it had been done in a prison yard. It made his pale skin look harsher, his blue eyes look lighter and more lethal.

I clear my throat, "Just let me wash your hair again, to make sure there's nothing in there." He shudders, but nods and allows me to walk closer again so I can lather his hair and massage it, trying to get everything out of there. The blood totally has stained his bleached hair. It was almost white this morning, but it's red right now. Not pink, but blood red. It's probably going to trigger him later, so I wash and wash for as long as I can, until Eros is making a purring sound and grabbing my waist like he's going to fall if he doesn't.

“Oh yes. This is the life. If heaven doesn’t look like this, I don’t want it.” I chuckled under my breath. Typical Sienna. Sharp scissors clicked soon after, slicing through the air as they trimmed her blonde into neat, angled layers that glittered under the bright salon lights. Mine followed, though my darker strands were being primed for something bolder. The bleaching that would strip me down and rebuild me into her double.

“What about violet?” Nate blinks, caught off guard. “What about it?” Unwinding the strand of hair, she resumes her finger-drumming rhythm. “I’m thinking of coloring my hair violet. Think it’ll suit me?” Nate arches a brow, skepticism radiating off him. “Girl, it’s going to take a few sessions of bleach to strip all that darkness out of your hair. And that’s if your hair doesn’t fall out from the trauma.” “Celeste knows how to do hair recovery like a pro,” Ariah counters with a casual shrug, the hint of a smirk tugging at her lips. “It’s not a problem. Or… what about dark blue? Like a rich indigo?”

I couldn't speak. “Yes,” He said, caressing my straight blonde hair. “I learnt that you're a brunette but my Uncle forced you to go blonde. I want you back to your natural color and I got products to help with that especially since the bleaching has begun to cause damage. If you prefer to stay blonde, then it's fine by me but I just want you to know, you have the choice to be whatever you want.”

The black hair—the same hair Zion wrapped around his fingers while he fucked me until I forgot my own name, the same hair Elias brushed from my face with a tenderness that broke my heart, the same hair Luka held like reins while he possessed me with that devastating precision—falls straight and dark over the shoulders of the cheap coat I bought at the first store I found. My natural hair. Black as night, black as Zion’s eyes, black as the secrets I have carried for decades. I pick up the box of blonde dye bought at the corner pharmacy along with the disposable scissors. Not salon blonde, not the sophisticated blonde of a woman who has time and money to take care of herself. The aggressive, a

I picked up a pair of heavy industrial shears from the vanity. ​With a single, decisive motion, I hacked through the long, dark locks Malakai used to wind around his fingers when he kissed me. I cut until the hair hit just above my jaw—short, jagged, and practical. I dyed it a deep, obsidian black in the bathroom sink, watching the dark pigment swirl down the drain like the last of my innocence. When I looked back into the glass, I didn't recognize the woman looking back. She looked like a blade—sharp, dark, and ready to draw blood.

“So we have to remove this color first, but Dani said because you used to dye your hair blond, it won’t be necessary to bleach it again.” Kate always seems to be less anxious when talking to Leia. Leia just shrugged and let Kate continue. She mixed everything in a bowl and started applying it to Leia’s hair, piece by piece. When Kate was done she wrapped Leia’s head in saran wrap. I was busy giving Leia a manicure. Okay, maybe not a real manicure. I just cut her toenails, rubbed her feet and put on a burgundy color nail polish on her nails. Then I did her hands.