Just a Trim by Joelsweet
(I apologize for any spelling mistakes. If you like this, please check out my other stories!)
Hyacinth was incredibly anxious. He never liked going to get his hair trimmed, but it had to be done. He had been sent to his aunt’s house for the summer after he had finished high school. It was a nice, quiet environment for him to fill out college applications and relax. She really did live out in the middle of nowhere. There was hardly any cell phone reception on her small cattle farm, and Hyacinth had to drive half an hour to go and get groceries. The town was incredibly tiny, with only a few shops and a gas station. It was a little forlorn.
And now Hyacinth was in a predicament. The bottom inch of his near knee length hair was beginning to look ragged. Hyacinth usually went to a stylist to get his hair trimmed, but there was not a single stylist in the nearby town, or the second closest one. Only traditional barbers. He had asked his aunt if she had scissors, but she had a butch cut and only owned kitchen scissors and clippers.
So that was why Hyacinth was anxious. He didn't know this barber, and the barber might cut his hair way shorter than he wanted. Hyacinth tried to assure himself that everything would be fine, but he had an uneasy feeling in his stomach. All the people that Hyacinth had seen had had buzz cuts or were bald, and stared at Hyacinth’s lovely hair as he passed by. Hyacinth gulped, and pushed open the door to the small barbershop, a bell jingling overhead. The single customer and barber looked up, and their eyes filled with shock. They had never seen a person with hair that long and lovely. Hyacinth had left his cornsilk colored hair down for the day, so the cut wouldn't take as long. The freshly washed locks positively gleamed in the sunlight beaming in through the glass door.
“Hold on a second, miss, I'll be right with you,” the barber said, and returned to his customer; who also tore his eyes away. Hyacinth didn't bother to correct him, just sat down in a wooden chair sitting next to the window.
Hyacinth shivered as we watched the barber complete the other customer’s cut. He wanted to cringe. The only hair left on the man’s head was a ¼ inch on the sides and ½ inch on the top. The customer was uncaped, no expression on his placid face. This man had probably been given the same cut for twenty years. The man stood up and set money on the counter, before leaving the establishment. The barber swept up the tiny hairs into a pile and then beckoned to Hyacinth.
“Come sit down.” Anxiously, Hyacinth shakily stood and stumbled over to the barber chair, where he collapsed. The barber wrapped a blue and white striped cape around Hyacinth and tied it snugly. The material almost felt like canvas or perhaps polyester. The barber grabbed a comb and quickly pulled it through Hyacinth’s hair several times, the strands parting easily like water.
“What would you like done, ma'am?” Now, the barber knew perfectly well that Hyacinth was male, but he wanted Hyacinth to feel guilty about having such long hair.
“Oh… Um… Just a trim, please. Like, one inch,” Hyacinth quietly muttered. The barber feigned surprise at his deep voice.
“You're a male?!” The barber asked.
“Um… Y-yes,” Hyacinth whispered shyly. The barber had an antiquated definition of “masculine.”
“Well, in that case, let me get the clippers!”
“No!” Yelled Hyacinth. “Just an inch.”
“Your hair is unhealthy. I need to chop off much more than that.” Hyacinth and the barber both knew this was a blatant lie. His hair was extremely healthy and well maintained.
“I don't care what you think. Just an inch,” Hyacinth firmly stated, grabbing the arms of the chair tightly with his hands.
“Alright.. If you say so…,” the barber said softly. He had no intention of following this instruction. He had a strong desire to see this lovely mane fall to the tiled floor. The barber watched as Hyacinth became tense when he heard the click of the shears being picked up.
Ssk! A loud cutting noise pierced the air, and a sheave of light blonde hair a foot long dropped to the floor. Hyacinth looked over his shoulder and gasped.
“I said one inch!” he said in a strangled voice.
“Oh! I'm sorry, I thought you said one foot!” the barber cheerfully responded.
Hyacinth stared, horrified, at the shimmering, severed lock laying lifeless on the tile. “I'll just even it out!” the barber suggested. Hyacinth sat perfectly still, frozen in terror, and he felt gentle tugging on the ends of his hair as the blades opened and closed around his precious tresses. His hair would only be waist length after this cut! But, alas, the barber had other plans for Hyacinth’s hair in mind. He hadn't evened the hair out at all, only randomly cut it; some locks only reaching to the middle of Hyacinth's back. Thick, beautiful blonde hair lay on the floor like a carpet of silk. Hyacinth looked over his shoulder again and felt like sobbing. His lovely hair had been brutally chopped at odd angles down his back.
“W-what did you do?!!” Hyacinth cried out.
“Maybe it would be even if you hadn't moved so much,” the barber coolly responded. Hyacinth was silent. He hadn't moved in the slightest. The barber held the shears to Hyacinth’s shoulder blades, causing him to shiver. Hyacinth didn't say anything; he was sure he would start crying if he did. His lemon-ice cream colored hair would be completely shorn in the hands of this demon barber, he was sure of it. The barber began cutting at Hyacinth's shoulder blades in a vicious attack. Gorgeous hair slid down the cape as the shears hacked through it. When the barber was done, Hyacinth’s hair was dangling an inch above his shoulder on the left side, and an inch below on the right. Hyacinth felt despair run through his shaking body.
“You moved again! Tsk, tsk, tsk. Now I have to try and even it out once more.” The barber now switched on a pair of clippers, and the loud buzzing cause Hyacinth to jump in shock and apprehension. The barber set them at Hyacinth’s nape and swiftly mowed through the hair there. Hyacinth hated the vibrating feeling of the clippers as they tore through his hair, screaming. The unguarded clippers shaved Hyacinth’s nape up past his ears, leaving white scalp and stubble behind. Hair was falling like rain onto the pile of shorn cornsilk locks. The clippers were switched off. Hyacinth had given up on holding his tears back. They dropped down his face freely. Hyacinth had never had clippers touch his head before, and it was something he never wanted to experience. The barber grabbed Hyacinth’s hand and forced him to feel the sandpapery hair left on the back of his head and nape. Long locks hanging from the rest of Hyacinth’s head still fell around his shoulders. Hyacinth choked on his sobs, hiccuping and desperately feeling the back of his head. His fingers were cold against his newly stripped, almost bare scalp. He hated the feeling.
“S-stop! P-please!!” Hyacinth struggled to make out.
“It's too late, dear,” the barber said, laughing gleefully. He let go of Hyacinth’s hand, and it dropped to grip the rests of the chair again.
The barber combed the front locks of Hyacinth's hair in front of his face and then snipped them incredibly close to his scalp. Some of the strands got caught in Hyacinth’s eyelashes. He felt them tickle his face as they fell and landed in his lap, mixing with tears that had collected there. Next, the barber positioned the scissors at Hyacinth's chin. He rapidly snipped at a rough angle upwards to the middle of the back of Hyacinth’s head, and then snipped downwards on the other side. Hyacinth sniffed as he saw in the mirror the choppy, awfully cut blunt bob that he was now wearing. Since Hyacinth's hair was so thick, the bob stuck out from his head far. He had loved his long, light blonde hair. It had never been shorter than shoulder length, and now this…
“Whoops! It's uneven again!” the barber chirped. He switched the clippers on again, to Hyacinth's trepidation. The barber began clipping the hair right over Hyacinth’s ear, and cut in a wobbly line all the way around his head, leaving a bowl cut of inconsistent lengths. Two inch long chunks of soft hair clung to Hyacinth's shoulders and the back of his neck. The barber drove the blades into Hyacinth’s hair an inch over where the bowl ended and brought that line all the way around. He then started “evening out” the bowl- in reality he was just making it shorter and messier. “Oh well, looks like we'll have to just shave the rest off.” The barber drove the clippers through Hyacinth’s remaining hair straight down the middle. Hyacinth couldn't bare to look at himself in the mirror anymore, so he bowed his head and averted his eyes. The barber gripped Hyacinth's chin with his left hand and forced him to look at his reflection. Hyacinth's thick blonde locks slid down his white scalp, and salty tears slid down his red face.
And then, there was nothing but stubble left on Hyacinth's head. His glory, his only vanity, his best feature, had been reduced to mere blonde fuzz on his head. Hyacinth tore off the cape and reached a hand up to feel his velvety, infuriatingly light head. Hyacinth was sobbing hysterically at the loss, stroking his head desperately. He dropped to his knees onto the soft carpet of fallen locks, gathered some of them up, and held them close to his chest. Hyacinth felt as if he was in physical pain; like he had lost a limb. He felt like he was going to throw up.
Without a word, Hyacinth stood and dashed out the barbershop door, beautiful, vanilla-pudding colored locks clinging to his blue button up shirt and cargo shorts. He had walked into that shop with over three feet of hair, and had left with â…› an inch. Hyacinth told himself he was never going to a barber again.
The barber watched him leave, the bells still bouncing slightly against the door. He noticed Hyacinth hadn't paid him.
“You're welcome!” he called after the blonde’s retreating back.