Chapter One: Birthday Boy by ForcefulBarber

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CHAPTER ONE:

Bridgewater University is, by far, one of the worst school's to exist in South Carolina. It's one of those one-building schools that clearly started off as something else (in this case, a mental hospital) and has low standards for its students. Even if you got straight C's and D's in school, you still had a 95% chance of getting accepted if you still graduated. So therefore a majority of the school consists of nothing but reckless dumbasses.

All that said, it did have a handful of students who actually - you know - put in the effort. And one of those kids was Franklin Jones, a twenty-two year old with a passion for writing. He was a tall, lanky kid with long arms and even longer legs, with dark brown eyes and sandy brown hair. He wasn't exactly an attractive kid, with his lopsided lips and a crooked nose, but he did have nice hair. It was both incredibly thick and insanely curly, and long enough to both cover his ears and touch the collar of his shirt.

He adored his hair. And he took such good care of it, that most people tended to adore it just as much.

But then there was Joseph, his second oldest brother, who beyond hated it. He was constantly picking on his youngest brother, calling him such names as "Ronald McDonald Jr." or "the Wannabe Bob Ross". It was all very immature and stupid, which made it easier for Frankie to ignore.

Unfortunately that all changed on February 3rd, 2023: The day Frankie turned twenty-three.

Not a fan of parties, Frankie had announced via Facebook that he wasn't planning on celebrating this year. Instead he was gonna spend the evening studying in his dorm room, in preparation for the upcoming finals. People objected, of course (especially his mother), but he stuck to his guns.

So imagine his surprise when his brothers showed up around four o'clock, each one bearing a gift.

"Guys, I said no gifts!" he objected, leaning against the door.

"Actually, little brother, you said 'no celebrations or parties'. Your post said nothing about not bringing you gifts," Paul, the oldest, retaliated proudly. Frankie frowned but ultimately let them in, telling them to make themselves comfortable while he went and grabbed some drinks. By the time he came back, Paul and Nick - Frankie's third and final brother - had planted themselves on the couch. Joe, on the other hand, was sitting at Frankie's computer.
"Here you go," he said before handing each of them their drinks, making it clear with each pass that he's annoyed they're there. "You guys want something to eat? I don't have much, but I think there's some chips above the fridge…"
"We're fine. We grabbed some food before coming over," Paul explained.
"What we do want is for you to open your gifts, though," Nick interjected, "We spent a lot of time getting these."
"You really, really shouldn't have…" Frankie replied, his voice taking on a slight whine.
"Will you stop complaining and open them?" Joe asks. Frankie sighs and, finally, snatches Paul's gift bag from his hands. He reaches into it…and pulls out a pair of AirPod Pros, Second Generation. Frankie's jaw drops.
"Is this a joke?" he asks, forcing himself to remain calm.
"You'd think so, right? But nope, those are the real things. Happy birthday!" he said happily.
"Wow, thanks man…" Frankie as he leaned over to give his oldest a hug. Paul can't help but laugh a bit as he hugs him back.
"Okay, now mine," Nick says, holding out his own gift bag. Frankie pocketed the AirPods and took the bag, his excitement now growing. He reaches inside… and pulls out a 100$ gift card to GameStop. Frankie's eyebrows shoot up. Nick smiles smugly at Paul. "Told you he'd like it."
"My gift is clearly better, Nick. Face it," Nick rolled his eyes in response.

Frankie looked at Joe.

Before we continue, let me tell you a bit about Joe. He's a fairly attractive thirty-three year old, with his clear skin and golden brown eyes. He stands at 5'7", and tends to go up-and-down between being muscular and thin. He, like Frank, adores his hair. It's thick, dark and wavy… but unfortunately it's naturally greasy texture makes it hard to style. No matter the length (it was currently almost long enough to touch his shoulders, but not quiet) or the treatment (he's used a lot), it just never looks very flattering on him. A lot of people believe this is the main source of his disdain for Frankie's curly locks.

Now back to the story.

"You get me something too?" Frankie asked, noticing that Joe's hands were empty.
"I did!" Joe said happily, "C'mere," He said before standing up. Frankie walked over and allowed Joe to push him down into the seat, completely oblivious of what was about to happen.
"So what is iâ€"?" before Frankie can ask, Joe takes his hands and handcuffs them behind the chair - trapping him in place, "The hell?"
"Relax, it's part of the gift," Joe said as he made sure the cuffs were secured. Frankie looked over at his other brothers, neither of whom looked sure of what was going on. Paul leaned forward in his seat, brow arched.
"Uh, J? What are you doing?" he asked.
"Giving him his surprise!" Joe replied before grabbing his bag up off the floor and rummaging through it.

Frankie's eyes went wide when he produced a set of Oster clippers. They were big and red, with no guard attached to its blades. "Ok, that's really funny…"
"Hilarious, right?" Joe asked as he plugged the clippers into a nearby socket. Frankie's eyes darted over to his other brothers, who looked just as confused as him.
"Joe… maybe we should think about this?" Nick said tentatively.
"Oh, I have," Joe replied before running his hands through Frankie's hair, pushing the luscious curls out of the boy's eyes. That's when it hit Frankie that this wasn't a joke. Joe was serious. Dead serious.

Oh, f*ck…

"Joe… let's talk about this," Frankie pleaded, his voice wavering. Joe keeps his hand on his hand, holding the hair back away from his younger brother's face, "Please?"
"Hm… nah," and with that comment, the Oster clippers roared to life. Paul jumped to his feet.
"Don't, I'm serious. If mom finds outâ€""
"When mom finds out," Joe interrupted, "It'll already be too late," he looked at Frankie, "Say goodbye to it, baby brother. Trust me when I say you'll thank me one day," and without another word, and before Frankie or Paul can retaliate, Joe took the clippers and plowed them down the center of Frankie's head.

All the young boy could do was sit there. Sit there as Joe ran the clippers from his hairline all the way to his crown, causing mounds of curly hair to tumble either to the floor or onto his lap. Joe made the second swipe, then the third. And soon enough, the hair on top of Frankie's head was reduced to a mere quarter of an inch.

"... I'm out," Nick said before suddenly standing up, "I refuse to take part in this. You said we were just gonna do something nice for him, not…this!" and with that, Nick grabbed his jacket and walked out. Frankie said nothing.

"I can't believe you've actually stoop this low, J…" Paul said as Joe started driving the clippers up the lift side of Frankie's head, smiling as the blades made quick work of the curls around his ear. If he wasn't positive Paul would knock him out for it, he'd definitely have pocketed one of the curls as a memento; a reminder of this wonderful moment. "Seriously, you've truly outdone yourself…"
"Oh, will you stop being so dramatic?" Joe asked before forcing Frankie's head forward, pressing the boy's chin to his chest. He lifts the curls up, places the clippers at the nap of his neck, and quickly sets to work on destroying the longest and curliest portion of Frankie's hair.

Much to Joe's shock, Frankie wasn't really fighting back. He struggled a bit at first, but went still almost immediately once it started. The fact that he didn't tear up at all actually upset Joe a bit, honestly. Instead he just sat there, lips shut tight, eyes staring blankly ahead.

Joe pushed his head to the side next, and proceeded to shave off the last remnants of Frankie's beloved head of hair. The boy forced himself to remain both still and emotionless as he watched the last handful of curls tumble down his shoulder onto his lap, joining the ever growing pile that rested there.

To make sure he hadn't missed a second strand, Joe decided it best to run the clippers sporadically and wildly all over Frankie's scalp, catching every last possible stray. "And…we're done!" Joe said proudly, a huge grin on his face. Frankie said nothing, neither did Paul. Joe simply shrugged before stuffing the Oster clippers back into his bag. He then tugged out a small set of keys and tossed them to Paul. "I'm going home. Feel free to unlock him whenever," he said before walking out, giving neither of his brothers a second glance as he closed the door. Paul quickly hurried over to Frankie and unlocked him, noticing immediately how red his wrists were and how pink his scalp was.
"I swear to God, Frankie, I had no idea he was gonna do that," Paul said apologetically as he helped Frankie to his feet, "If I had, I would've stopped it in a heartbeat…"
"I know," Frankie said stiffly, his voice void of emotion, "He's….God, I hate him…" He nearly jumped out of his skin when Paul suddenly hugs him tight, being careful not to touch his scalp as he does.
"We'll get him back, I promise."

It wasn't till that night that Frankie was finally able to face the mirror… and what he saw brought instant tears to his eyes. Without his hair there to hide them, his most unflattering features were now on full display for the world to see. His long neck, his dumbo ears, his big and crooked nose. He was so blinded by his insecurities, he didn't even notice that the haircut also brought out his eyes and enhanced his smile by a landslide. It also made him look younger…sweeter, almost; but he couldn't see that. He couldn't see any of that. All he could see was what his brother had done to him.

And he wasn't about to let it slide. "We'll get him back," Paul had said to him.
"Damn right we will," Frankie told his reflection, "Damn right…"

(The world of Bridgewater University will be shown in it's full glory in the coming chapters!)

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