Quincy Barbers Novels & Stories

“You sure? ‘Cause you sound—” I shoved the half-cut heart into his chest. “Shut up and cut, Harvard. If you’re so fucking smart, prove it.” He blinked, then chuckled again. “Ah. Now you want my help.” “I don’t want your help,” I snapped. “I just don’t want my niece thinking her uncle is a brain-damaged gorilla who can’t cut paper.” “Too late,” Quincy murmured under his breath, but he sat down anyway, folding a sheet cleanly in half. His fingers worked with this annoying grace, smooth and precise. I hated it. I hated how good he looked even doing this.

Quincy was in a leather jacket and miniskirt, heavy makeup smudged around her eyes. A tall punk was pulling at her arm while she struggled. The window slid down, and their voices drifted in. “Why do you want to go home? Come back to the bar with me for the second round. After that, we can go to my place.” “No, I don’t want to…” He ignored her and tugged harder at her arm.

while he put his arm on Vince’s shoulder again. “Yeah I heard Xoey is singing today,” Quincy announced. “Let's get a table together.” “Sorry Ate Quincy but old women like you are no longer part of our table,” Zend commented. “Did you say something Zend?” Quincy asked and at the same time the three guys stopped at Quincy's smile, more like a smirk. “Ah no nothing,” Zend took it back quickly. “Come on. I was just joking.” Quincy was still smiling, but seriousness covered her eyes. “Try to say that again...” she suddenly approached Zend and gave him a deadly grin. “...I'll rip your neck off. ”

“Work is work! It’s taboo to use work for personal gain. I stay true to my professional ethics. That’s enough. I’m not going to continue this nonsense with you. I’ve made an appointment with Thea to celebrate my appointment as the vice president of Transgenerational Group.” Quincy put on her large sunglasses again and turned to leave as James watched her. James glanced at Quincy, who was leaving with a satisfied look on her face. Although she was prideful, she was still a pretty good person. At least her refusing to use work for personal gains as it was a taboo made James deeply admire her. “Maybe I should get an album autograph too?” James turned around and glanced at the Transgenerational

he muttered, taking it all in. “I told you,” Quincy replied, nudging him in the shoulder. Quincy was quite the handsome young man. Tall, like Charlie, well-built, with sandy blond hair and a charismatic smile, he had told Charlie many times of his exploits at these types of events. Charlie didn’t believe everything he said as he couldn’t imagine a young lady agreeing to most of what he had to say, but now that he was in this new setting, he was having an easier time accepting some of it might be true.

The other one spoke too, “I won’t be here on weekend, so I had to rush here to get this long due cut. So, I was wondering the same.” I checked my schedule on my phone and saw that I had a small window of time between appointments. But for that, I needed to sacrifice my coffee break, “Sure, I can do that. Let me just grab my scissors and spray bottle. You have a seat, sir.” I said to the taller one as I walked over to my station to collect my scissors and comb and pointed towards the barber chair. I started working on his hair first. The shorter one was still waiting patiently. As I worked on the man’s hair, I couldn't help but think of the Greek God I had met. I wondered if he would ever com

I almost spat out my juice. “Deserves you? Then you two really are perfect for each other. A fake and a dog. You two deserve each other for sure!” “You little…” Jace raised his hand to slap me. “Stop.” A cold, calm voice cut through the room. Quincy was standing beside me. I had not even noticed his arrival. He wore a plain suit. He stood tall and straight. His presence felt distant and sharp. He glanced at Jace like he was staring at garbage.

I was definitely going to have a stroke at that point. The salon was not just expensive, it was super expensive. Everything in Quin’s life seemed to cost more than most people’s monthly salary. The moment we walked inside, the staff recognized him immediately. “Mr. Mackenzie,” the receptionist said politely. He nodded. “My assistant needs his hair done.” She looked at me with a professional smile. “What style?” Quin answered before I could open my mouth. “Dye it ginger.” My throat went dry. The stylist guided me to a chair.

Also, some perfume that smells masculine. Done with shopping, I immediately head to get a haircut. The barbershop is just a few minutes' walk from where I shopped, and I get attended to as soon as I walk in. “What style do you want? Perhaps just a trim?” the man asks with a smile on his face. “No!” I bark. “I want the entire hair off.” The man smiles, “I think you look really cute with this hairstyle. With just a trim, you’ll look really adorable.”