“One of Those Faces” by myboyfriendisbald

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As a stylist to the stars I can tell you I’ve had many odd things happen in my salon. I’ve had screaming banshees accuse me of sabotage, I’ve had breakups happen as a result of a change in haircolor, and I’ve had my fair share of people asking for a drastic haircut only to show up the next day wanting me to wave a magic wand and undo it.

But this? This was a first.

For starters this was a new client, a guy a little older than me, so around 30 yrs old. And he was incredibly handsome, with long blond hair a la Bryan Adams circa 1976 (before he’d received his iconic, shorter, haircut). Though, this guy has golden brown eyes and is notably lacking the gap tooth smile that Bryan Adams is so known for.
"So I’m going on vacation, I don’t want any paparazzi following me around. Can you set me up with a wig? That way no one will recognize me."
"Remind me where you said you’re going, Grant?"
"I didn’t say, actually, but I’m headed to Bermuda."
"Right, so you want to wear a wig while you’re on the beach? In the ocean?"
He looked a bit puzzled, "I mean, people do that, right?"
"Well yes, but I can tell you it will be very hot and itchy. Most of the time people who wear wigs to the beach don’t have a full head of hair underneath."
He looked a bit forlorn and slouched in his chair, "I guess I’ll just opt for sunglasses and hope for the best then. I hadn’t thought about the heat, truthfully."
"Sorry to burst your bubble."
He shook his head, "That’s ok, Jess was right to suggest you for advice. I appreciate the insight."

I knew Jess Montenegro well, she was a manager for a few of my clients, and she was notorious for running a tight ship. She’d probably sent Grant to me with the intention of dissuading him from taking a vacation in the first place, since he was new to the scene and would be an easy target for exploitation. Jess knows I’m good at my job, and I’m known in my field for being tight lipped and for doling out hefty doses of brutal honesty. If you ask for my advice, be prepared to receive it.

"Maybe you should just plan for a staycation, you know, book a day at a spa or something? You’re new to all of this, wouldn’t want the media chewing you to shreds right off the bat for a misconstrued photo."
"I’m just going with one of my best friends from high school."
"Guy or girl?"
"Does it matter?"
"Everything in this industry matters. If it’s a guy they’ll proclaim you’re gay, which there’s no shame in that, but it’s hard to undo that image if you’re not. And if it’s a girl, they’ll find a way to get a scandalous picture of you two and say she’s a hooker. Which all the power to sex workers, but again, kind of hard to undo that mess once it’s started."
He raked his hair away from his face and let out an exasperated sigh, "God this is the worst. This is so not my scene, I’m from a tiny ass town in the middle of nowhere. Just so happens I can sing well, caught a lucky break, and now my life is ruined."
"It’s not ruined," I offer kindly, "Just different."
"I can’t even go on vacation, tell me how that’s not ruined."
"Give it time, eventually you’ll have enough cred you can keep the paparazzi contained and then you can go on vacation with ease. I mean, the only other alternative you have today is shaving your head and going totally incognito, but I have a feeling Jess would kill me. Look, just give it time. You and your friend can reschedule, right?"
His eyes went wide with fear at the suggestion of shaving his head and he stammered, "Yeah we can reschedule."
After that he gave me a quick "thanks again" and said goodbye and left.


It wasn’t until two days later that Jess called me, and at first I thought it was to give me crap for scaring him off.
"Yeah, I just knew you didn’t want him to go on that trip, or you wouldn’t have sent him to me. Sorry if I spooked him too bad."
Jess snorted, "Believe it or not I have actually been trying to convince him to get a haircut since he signed with me. Not shave it, but just clean it up a bit."
"He does have nice hair," I mused, "Very pre-raphaelite."
"It’s just so long," Jess said, "Like, his previous stylist took an hour to blow dry it the last time, and it was still damp, then it went frizzy under the stage lights."
This earned a laugh from me, "Why’d you send him to an amature?"
"He’s a newbie, no one likes taking on newbies."
"Well you did good sending him to me, but I don’t think he’ll come back. Otherwise I’d offer to cut it. He’d be too afraid to sit in my chair. Though honestly I think he could pull off a shaved head… What’s he sing anyway?"
"He does have that kinda face, could probably pull off anything," Jess said, "He’s pop country."
"Well thank God he doesn’t have a mullet, what a dumb trend that’s been. Had to talk two guys out of it this week alone."
Jess was quiet for a second, then said, "You know, maybe we can let the poor guy go on vacation. How long would it take for a longish buzz to grow out to his shoulders?"
"Like a year."
"Crap, well that wouldn’t work. He’s gotta go on tour in the fall. How short could you cut it for it to grow back by then?"
"It’s February, by September it would be shoulder length if I leave it below the ears."
"Hmph, well that’s probably not enough of a disguise."
"No," I mused, "No vacation for him I guess."
"Better that way anyway, the press would tear him a new one."
"That’s what I told him."
"Well anyway, if I can get him to come back to you, would you at least convince him to cut it shoulder length? I think it would suit him, but it comes off as less high maintenance than the long cascading curls."
"Should really cut it a bit shorter and have him work on a little facial hair for pop country, but yeah, I can do that. If you get him to come back."
"You’re the stylist, Liv. Truthfully, I don’t care how short you cut it, just keep my show pony looking good ok?"
"Have I ever let you down?"
"Nope."
"Oh and Jess, is he gay?"
Jess snorted again, "He’s not. But don’t you go getting any bright ideas, Liv, he’s a client not a plaything."
"Could be both," I laughed, "He’s pretty cute."
"Hush or I won’t try to send him back your way."
And with that, the line went dead.


It was over a month later that Grant showed up in my studio again. By this point I’d familiarized myself with his music, and I had to admit it was pretty good, though not my normal preference of genre. I also had to admit he was definitely cute, and definitely my type. I was going to have to maintain some level of professionalism, but it was going to be a struggle not to jump him in the chair…

"Jess convinced me to come back," he said in place of a greeting.
"I gathered that," I gestured, "Your expression doesn’t suggest you’re happy to be here."
"I’m not."
He was still bare faced, I noted, and his long loose curls tumbled past his shoulders still. I imagined his lips were pillowy soft, and with a hint of stubble on his jaw, kissing him was probably pretty delectable…
"Long hair is my thing," he said, crossing his arms over his chest, "But, I agree with Jess that maybe it’s getting a bit too long. It takes forever to dry, and it’s always tangled."
"Mhm," I said, leaning up against my desk.
"So, for the sake of making it more manageable, I’ve agreed to cut it to my shoulders, no more,
no less."
"Hm," I replied, "Well, alright. Have a seat then."
He did so, and I wrapped a cape around his shoulders before combing his hair.
"I’m gonna dry cut it, then wash, then I can toss in some layers, keeps thick hair from looking too bulky."
"You cut it too short and I will be sure you’re life is living hell."
"You know, I’m not a monster, Grant. I would never do something against your wishes, I only give people my best suggestions and go from there. You wanted a solution to go on vacation, I gave one. You don’t wanna cut it short, I won’t."
He nodded, seeming to untense a bit, "Jess seems to think you’re trustworthy, and I like Jess, I think she’s honest. So I guess I’ll have to trust you."
I nodded in agreement and gathered his hair in my left hand, holding it firmly in a ponytail about two inches past his shoulders. He was going to lose about five inches off the bat, and probably another two once I’d finished shaping it. "You sure you’re ok with this?"
"Just do it before I chicken out."

So I did.

The scissors made a loud crunching sshhnck as I snipped again and again, severing the five inches I held in my hand from his remaining lengths. Once it was detached I laid the cut hair on the vanity and Grant eyed it warily, then glanced at himself in the mirror.
I tousled his hair so he could see the roughly cut ends, and know for certain it wasn’t above his shoulders.
"It’ll look better once I style it."
"Hm," he said.
I led him over to the sink, gave him a good wash and scalp massage, then took him back over to my chair and toweled his hair mostly dry.
"Ok, now comes the magic."

I turned him away from thr mirror as I set to work, snipping here and there to maintain his natural curl and keep the ends of his hair from being puffy with thickness. Once I was satisfied with it, I took my dryer and diffuser and blow dried his hair gently, parting it just off of center. He’d had it parted stiffly down the middle, but I felt like a side part gave it more character.
When I was done, I whisked the cape off, and spun him back toward the mirror and his face lit up.
"Holy crap, that actually looks really good."
He ran his fingers through his mane, appreciating that it was tangle free.
"It does, it suits you. You’ve got one of those faces, it’s unfair really."
"What do you mean by that?"
"I’m fairly certain you could pull off just about any hairstyle, you’ve got beautiful features." I probably shouldn’t have said the last part, and I felt my cheeks flush at my accidental slip up.
"Thanks, I guess?"
I nodded, "Anyway, thank Jess for me. And thanks, for trusting me."
He nodded in response, "Yeah, of course. Glad we were able to work something out."

After he left I tossed his cut off ponytail in the trash and muttered "good riddance" under my breath. Then I finished cleaning up, and noticed a text from Jess:
Grant looks great, kudos on a job well done! Schedule him for a trim in 8 weeks? xoxo -J
I texted back "sure, and you’re welcome!".

All I could do now was wait for my next opportunity to possibly take Grant shorter…

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