The First Cut by Caroline Leed

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Note: This story is inspired by a childhood friend who always had long blond hair. At its longest, his hair fell just slightly below his shoulders, and the shortest haircut he ever had while I knew him was a kind of bowl cut, with a short but not shaved nape.

I haven’t seen him since I was 13, but recently I got curious about what had become of him. I searched for him online, and to my (pleasant) surprise, I discovered that clippers had finally tamed that mane! His ears and nape were clearly exposed — in other words, the sides of his head looked like they’d been trimmed with a #2 guard. His bangs were gone, revealing his forehead, while the hair on top was longer and styled proudly into a 5 cm crew cut with a bit of gel.

The transformation was so drastic that I discovered parts of his head I had never seen before! His blue eyes, once hidden behind bangs or framed by fine strands, were now fully visible.

In the photos taken before the haircut, you could see the gradual shortening of his hair: from its longest length covering his shoulders, to a shorter cut with bangs and strands still covering part of his ears and neck, though in a more "acceptable" length — and then finally, that radical trip to the barber.

He looked great like that. He seemed more confident, more masculine. He had once told me that his mother didn’t want to cut his hair too short because he had big ears, but honestly, this shorter look suited him far better.

Unfortunately, that was the last image I ever saw of him — the account where I found it was deleted shortly after. So I don’t know if he’s kept his hair short or grown it long again.

I’ve always wondered what his first short haircut must have been like. So I wrote this story with a few thoughts in mind:

The photo I saw may have been taken long after the actual haircut, so the original cut might have been even shorter than what I saw.

I chose a crew cut because he’s the son of a military man, and from what I knew, his brother also wore his hair very short — so he might have mimicked that style.

Of course, all of this is pure speculation. But I really enjoyed writing this story.

I also know other people who went from long hair to short (or vice versa), and I plan to write about them in future stories.
For the staging, the story is partly inspired by "Dylan And The Flattop" by Joshua on this site.



The First Cut


Hugo brushed his long blond hair, which, since his last visit to the hairdresser, reached just above his shoulders. His fringe fell over his eyes, partially covering his forehead and softening his gaze. It was thin enough to let some skin show and was regularly trimmed by his mother.

The brushing motion he made this morning would be his last for a long time, because today marked the day of his very first truly short haircut. All his life, he had worn his hair long—sometimes slightly shorter, sometimes longer—but never short enough to expose his neck or ears. Once, he had received a bowl cut that partially revealed his ears, but the back remained long. Despite the nice view of his neck it offered, he never experienced the tactile pleasure of a freshly shaved nape.

He put down his hairbrush and ran his hand along the back of his neck, feeling the thick mass of blond hair fall back into place after his touch. Over the years, he had seen his friends and classmates transition from long to short hair. Some would return from vacation with freshly buzzed heads, while he had never had a choice but to keep his long locks. He didn’t particularly enjoy imagining himself in a barber’s chair, watching his hair fall to the ground—but he was curious to see what he’d look like without it. To see himself with short hair, like everyone else.

This day would also be his first solo visit to the barber. Since he was little, his mother had always chosen and paid for his haircuts, but this time he’d convinced her to let him go alone. To get rid of his long hair properly, he took the time to scout the local barbershops, looking for the right one for such a radical transformation. He didn’t want a hesitant barber who’d chicken out halfway through and leave him with another unfinished job like the bowl cut. No, he needed someone with no remorse—someone ready to send his long mane straight into the trash and reveal the scalp beneath.

He finally settled on a barber shop on the outskirts of the city. Its bold sign read "Men's Barber", and the window displayed pictures of men with military-style haircuts and shaved heads. The kind of place that would terrify his mother if she saw him walk in—but it was perfect for what he had in mind. Hugo wanted a Flattop haircut: shaved on the sides, flat and straight on top, with a nice "landing strip." It was a drastic haircut, but Hugo wanted a drastic change.

He walked slowly through the city streets toward the shop. It was the beginning of summer break, and along the way, he saw some familiar faces leaving salons with freshly cut hair. Soon, it would be his turn.

He stepped into the barbershop. A man was already getting his hair cut. Hugo sat down and waited, his heart pounding.

He had done it. He had entered the shop with his long hair—and he would walk out without it.

When the man ahead of him left, the barber called Hugo over. He climbed into the chair, and the barber began lifting his hair to place a strip around his neck.

— "This is to keep the little hairs out," he explained.

He then fastened a cape—white with red and blue stripes—around Hugo’s shoulders. At this point, Hugo knew there was no turning back.

— "So, young man, what are we doing today?"
— "A Flattop haircut, please!"

Hugo surprised himself with how easily and confidently he requested such a short haircut. The barber, combing through his hair, raised an eyebrow.

— "A Flattop? You know what that means?"
— "Yes, I want the sides really short and the top nice and flat!"

Hugo pulled his arms from under the cape to show the shape he wanted.

— "I already give that cut to a lot of my clients," the barber replied. "Let’s clean up that mop!"

Hugo tucked his arms back under the cape. Facing the mirror, he saw the barber grab a large red clipper and clean it.

— "First haircut in a while?" the barber asked.
— "Yeah, you could say that," Hugo replied shyly, not ready to admit that this had always been his usual hair length.

The clippers buzzed to life. The sound made his heart beat even faster. The barber lifted the hair on the right side of Hugo’s head with a comb, then ran the clippers underneath using a number 2 guard. Hugo instantly felt a heavy lock of blond hair fall from his head to the floor. The barber repeated the process all over the right side. Long blond strands were quickly replaced by neatly clipped fuzz.

He watched in fascination. It was the first time in his life his head had been buzzed. The clippers climbed higher and higher until his ears were fully visible. Then the barber gently tilted Hugo’s head forward and started on the back. Hair from his nape tumbled onto the cape in a cascade. The sensation was entirely new to him—at first stressful, but now incredibly satisfying.

While he enjoyed the buzzing along the sides and back, more and more blond hair gathered on his cape and on the floor. When the barber moved to the left side, Hugo got a glimpse of himself in the mirror and saw his bare neck. It felt strange not to have any hair falling onto his shoulders when he moved his head.

The sides were finally finished. Hugo could now see his head uncovered—and only the top remained, still long enough for the brush cut. But just as he thought the barber would begin shaping the top, he watched him remove the clipper guard and return to the sides.

The same buzzing motions followed, but this time, the clippers left behind only smooth, pale skin. It was his bare scalp. Hugo was now experiencing the classic barbershop misunderstanding. His mother might have tolerated a buzz cut—but shaved bald?

He panicked for a second, then quickly calmed down. There was no going back. His scalp turned increasingly white. The sensation was different now—the clippers made a crackling sound as they caught the stubble left behind.

Tiny blond hairs covered his shoulders. Just as he thought it was over, the barber pulled out a pot of shaving cream.

"My mom is going to kill me," Hugo thought as the cream was spread across his head.

The barber grabbed a razor and gently shaved the contours of Hugo’s scalp. To his surprise, the sensation was incredibly soothing.

"Being bald isn’t so bad after all," he thought.

When the shaving was done, the sides and back of his head were completely smooth. It was even shorter than the haircuts he had seen online. His big ears, his neck, everything was visible. He felt lighter—but also more mature without that childish mop on his shoulders.

The barber picked up a comb and lifted Hugo’s remaining fringe, then switched the clippers back on and began shaping the top into a neat brush cut. This part took longer than Hugo had expected. The barber took his time, checking and rechecking the shape from every angle, making sure it was perfectly even front to back.

The shop was silent. Only the buzz of the clippers filled the room.

Finally, the barber turned off the clippers, applied a styling gel, and set the top of the brush cut straight and sharp. He removed the cape and used a soft brush to clean off Hugo’s neck and face.

— "There you go, kid! Nice and fresh for the summer!" the barber said with a smile.

After paying, Hugo stepped outside and immediately felt the difference. He was light. Every breeze tickled his neck, ears, and even his scalp. On the way home, he kept running his hand over the sides of his head.

He loved the sensation. Now, he finally understood the joy of a summer haircut.

He’d have to face his mother, of course—but that was a small price to pay for what he had just experienced.

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