“One of Those Faces” - Part 2 by myboyfriendisbald

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Over the next year Grant and I built a pretty good relationship. He came in about every 10 ish weeks for a trim and scalp treatment, keeping his lush mane exactly at shoulder length just as Jess had requested. I’d managed to squash down whatever feelings of attraction I’d had for him. They weren’t gone, I still thought he was delicious, and his voice really sealed the deal for me. But I knew it was beyond inappropriate to engage in anything other than a stylist-client relationship with him. I’d also managed to suppress the urge to shear him any shorter, even though I longed to really play around with his hair. I knew it would look divine at ear length, where the weight would be off of his natural curls, and it would do that thing where it always looked perfectly tousled without any product or effort. But I’d made a vow not to force the issue, and not to do anything Grant wasn’t ok with. And for now he was ok with shoulder length, parted gently to one side.


It’s not until April that I can sense something is off with Grant as soon as he walks in. His face is a scowl, not dissimilar to when he came back after I suggested I shave his head. It’s a scowl I haven’t seen in a while now that we’ve formed an agreement and a mutual respect for one another.
"What’s up?" I ask when he plunks down wordlessly in my chair.
He eyes me uncertainly in the mirror, "Carissa and I broke up."
Now, I know Carissa is, er, was, his longtime girlfriend and high school sweetheart. I’ve never met her, so I can’t weigh in on what could have caused the breakup. But going off of his tone, I can say it didn’t end amicably.
"I’m sorry to hear that," I say.
"I knew it was coming," he shrugs, "I’d suspected she was cheating on me for a while."
"Well that’s lousy."
He shrugs again, but doesn’t say anything.
I run my fingers through his hair, splaying it over his shoulders. He shirks a bit at my touch, which is weird.
"Sorry," he mumbles, "Now any time anyone plays with my hair, I just think of her…"
His hands fidget in his lap and he locks eyes with me in the mirror again. There’s a coldness to his stare.
"Can I tell you something Liv?"
"Mhm."
"Promise you won’t judge."
"Grant, you know that’s not my style."
He nods slowly, "It was Carissa’s idea for me to grow my hair out in the first place."
I roll my eyes, because of course it was. Grant is pretty far from being vain enough to truly care about his long luscious locks, I’d learned that over the past year.
"Grant, I think I know what you’re going to say next, and my answer is no."
"We broke up like two weeks ago and I can’t stand thinking about her every time I look in the mirror."
"I’m not cutting off all your hair because of Clarissa."
He gets up and starts nervously pacing.
"It would be cathartic. And I know you’ve wanted to cut it all off since you first met me, so don’t even deny your interest. Plus I’m sure Jess could sell it as a rebrand, or at the very least it would make for a good heartbreak album cover."
"Absolutely not."
"Liv, please? I’m dying just to rip it out by the roots at this point."
I bite my lip. He’s not wrong, I have wanted to try a shorter look on him since day one. But I’ve also wanted to make out with him, and I haven’t acted on that impulse either.
"Snap decisions are never good decisions. I’m not going to jeopardize our relationship by letting you cave to your impulsive urge. How about I give you a trim like always and then you can think on this for a week, and you, me and Jess can talk it over. If you still want to try something new by then, then we’ll do it."
He nods, so I go about our normal routine, and send him on his way.


The following day I’m just about to head home for the night when Grant walks in.
"I can’t do it," he says, "And I can’t keep acting like… Liv, do you think of me as a friend?"
"I uh… Yeah, Grant. We’re friends."
"Do you ever think of me as anything more?"
"Grant…"
He scuffs his foot on the floor, "Forget it." He turns to leave.
Then, without warning he stalks over to my station and grabs a pair of shears off the table top. I don’t have time to stop him, it’s like I’m moving in slow motion. The scissors let out a ssshnnnck as he slices off a chunk of hair just above his left ear.
He turns to face me, eyes wild, "There, now you have to cut it."
"What the f-k Grant! Jess is going to f-king kill me. And you, for that matter!"
"I don’t f-king care, Liv. I can’t stand it. Carissa was the one all about my hair. All my fans love my hair, and it was her f-king idea. It’s all her fault…" There’s tears rolling down his face, and he slumps up against the table. I know I shouldn’t but I wrap him in my arms and hold him close.
"I’m so sorry, Grant."
"Fourteen years. We were together fourteen f-king years."
"I know, I’m sorry. I’m so sorry." I stroke his hair as he sobs, cringing when my fingers catch the blunt ends where he’d cut off a hunk. What am I supposed to do now? I can’t send him off with a big missing chunk, but now I’m going to be forced to cut it shorter than I’d ever planned to cut his hair. I knew it would still look great, it was on Grant’s head, anything would look good. But what was Jess going to say? What did this mean for his career?? And did he know I liked him like that, or was that just the breakup brain talking? I didn’t want to be his rebound, and I didn’t know he had any interest in me like that…
I sat, holding him while he cried, for about twenty minutes. Then he softly said, "I guess I should let you fix my mess now…"
"We’re both going to catch so much flack for this you know."
He leaned away from me and his chocolatey gaze caught mine, which made my breath catch in my throat.
"I’m sorry, for dragging you into this."
"We’ll figure it out. You can go on hiatus until it grows back, yeah? You wanted a vacation."
He lets out a sad laugh, "Yeah, but the buddy I was going with is the guy Clarissa cheated on me with… so…."
"Oh."
He snorts, "Mhm. Great, right?"
I stand and hoist him to his feet. "Ok, well let’s solve this situation." I motion to his hair.
He takes a seat and stares forlornly at the clump of hair on the floor and then the missing patch on his head.
"Let me just shoot Jess a quick message so she’s in the loop, and then I’ll get started."
I send Jess a text briefly explaining that Grant showed up and pulled a post-breakup hissyfit which was now going to result in me having to give him a bit of a makeover. She texted back "omfg what an idiot!!!" along with a facepalm and an angry face.
"So I take it you haven’t had short hair in about 12 years," I say, moving back to stand behind Grant as I set my phone on the counter.
He shakes his head no, "Even before Clarissa I never really had short hair, I just didn’t really intentionally grow it out until we started dating. I thought it looked good and she loved it, so…"
"Well, the good news is that I can leave the top pretty long. It’ll do that thing where it looks perfectly tousled and effortless once we wash and air dry it. I was going to cut it below the ear if you ever let me, but I guess we’re going over the ear…"
"F-k," he groans.
"The bad news is that you have no idea how to cut hair, and when you cut it, you cut it parallel to your head, so now you’ve got some pretty short pieces right over the ear."
I move the longer pieces of his hair away from his ear so he can see where there’s a bunch of little two inch bits poking out.
"So I can either cut the rest of the back and sides down to match it, and it’ll just be a bit of an awkward length until it grows out, or I can clip the back and sides much shorter and make it a bit more trendy."
He bites his lip and his eyes go somber, "Can you just cut the bulk of it off and get that over with and I can think on it?" He looks ready to gag as he says it.
"Yeah, I can do that. I’ll give you a rough cut and then shampoo and we can talk about the next step."
He swallows hard and nods, so I cape him and get to work chopping off the rest of his long hair so it falls neatly over his ears. It feels mean, somehow, reducing his locks from an enviable fourteen inches down to a measly four or so. Even though I know it is his fault I’m in this position, a part of me blames myself for even wishing to chop it off beforehand. Whether it has been Clarissa’s idea or not, I knew Grant was fond of his hair, and he took good care of it. Short hair Grant was going to be a brand new man, in more way than one.
I took extra time shampooing and conditioning his hair, and then gently toweled it dry back at my station. Free from the weight it was already bouncy and voluminous, even when damp.
"This actually really suits you," I say, zhuzhing his forelock to and fro.
He gives me a weak smile and nods, "It’s not as bad as I was expecting. But honestly, now I just can’t wait for it to grow back…"
I give his shoulder a sympathetic squeeze, "Well let’s just get it evened up then, and then we can play the twenty stages of awkward while it grows out game."
This earns a chuckle, "Sounds like fun."
I work in silence, blending the little two inch hairs on his left side into the rest of his hair. Before long he’s got a nice shock of blond hair on top that falls over his forehead and curls around his ears, and the back and sides are a soft layer of two inch blond silk.
When I’m done I give it one final brush through with my fingers, and I have to admit, he looks HOT. The short curly hair gives him this sort of rugged outdoorsy type look somehow.
"You never did give me a straight answer about if you’ve ever seen me as more than a friend." He’s leaning forward, playing around with his hair.
"You know I can’t really answer you, Grant."
"Why not? There’s no contract, there’s no rule that we couldn’t date."
"Maybe not in writing, but it’s an unspoken rule. It’s unprofessional."
"What if I wasn’t a client."
"Grant, you just went though a bad breakup. Think on it before you make anymore snap decisions, ok? Like firing your stylist."
He let’s out a sigh and shoves his hair off his forehead, "Right, right. Ok. I should go call Jess and figure all this out. Thank you, Liv, for being there for me, like always."
"Anytime."
"And as much as I was really dreading it, I actually really like this haircut. Like, I think I might keep it for a bit."
"See what Jess has to say." I tell him, "You still have to pitch it to your fanbase." I give him a wink. I know it won’t be a challenge to bring his fans over to team short haired Grant, he looks amazing.
He nods, and then grabs his coat and leaves. Once he’s gone I set about sweeping up the mess of hair all over the floor. I should have known from the first time I met Grant McIntire he was going to be trouble, I just had no idea how much….

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