Choices by Layton leib

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INT. BARBERSHOP â€" LATE AFTERNOON

The bell jingles as ETHAN (16) walks in, brushing his overgrown short-back-and-sides out of his face. His hair is heavy, floppy, and uneven. SOPHIA (early 30s), in a neat white smock, looks up from her counter with a welcoming smile.

SOPHIA
Afternoon. First time in here, isn’t it?

ETHAN
(nods)
Yeah. I’ve walked past a few times. Figured it was time to… finally do it.

SOPHIA
Good call. Take a seat.

Ethan sits. Sophia sweeps a black cape around him, snaps it snug, and runs a comb through his thick hair. She studies him in the mirror, calm and professional.

SOPHIA
So. What are we doing today?

Ethan hesitates, shifting in the chair.

ETHAN
I… I was thinking maybe… buzzing it all off.

SOPHIA
All of it?

ETHAN
Yeah. Number two on top, and the sides faded as tight as you can go.

Sophia raises a brow, turning his chair away from the mirror so he can’t see his own expression.

SOPHIA
That’s not a small change. You sure?

ETHAN
(quiet but firm)
Yeah. I’m sure.

Sophia picks up her heaviest clippers, clicks a #2 guard into place, and rests them against his temple for a beat.

SOPHIA
Last chance.

ETHAN
Do it.


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The First Pass

The clippers roar to life. Sophia presses his head steady and drives them from forehead to crown. A thick swath of hair slides down the cape. Ethan flinches at the sound, eyes wide.

ETHAN
Whoa… that’s short.

SOPHIA
That’s number two. And we’ve barely started.

She runs another line, more hair spilling. Ethan grips the armrests tight as she clears strip after strip.


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The Top

Sophia keeps her hand firm on his crown, working carefully across the top.

SOPHIA
So. You military? This is recruit length.

ETHAN
(startled)
No! Not military.

SOPHIA
Sports, then? Football, wrestling, track?

ETHAN
(shakes his head quickly)
I’d trip over my own feet.

Sophia chuckles, steady as she shears him down to uniform stubble.


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The Back

She tips his head forward, buzzing through the bulk at the back. Thick clumps tumble into his lap.

SOPHIA
Then it’s the summer cut. You wouldn’t be the first.

Ethan swallows, silent. Sophia smirks, her tone easing into a story as she works.

SOPHIA
Had a boy come in once — mop over his eyes. He asked me to strip it bare. I clipped him with no guard, then lathered him with shaving cream and shaved him smooth with a razor. He left shining, rubbing his head like it was the best thing in the world.

Ethan shivers. Sophia switches sides, voice steady over the hum of the clippers.

SOPHIA
Another time, a girl with shoulder-length hair came in. Said she was sick of sweating under it. I buzzed her with a number three, tapered her sides tight. She looked ten pounds lighter walking out.

She flicks Ethan’s ear gently, buzzing around it with precision.

SOPHIA
And just last week, slick-haired boy, pomade and everything. He looked me in the eye and said, "Take it close." I gave him a number one on top, faded the sides to skin. He couldn’t stop grinning at himself.

She tilts Ethan’s chin, working the other temple. Her voice softens, coaxing.

SOPHIA
Everyone’s got a reason. What’s yours?

Ethan exhales, finally confessing.

ETHAN
It’s the summer. I just… couldn’t take it anymore. Too hot. Too heavy. I wanted it gone.

SOPHIA
(smiling faintly)
Knew it. And you’ll thank yourself.


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The Fade

Sophia swaps guards, buzzing shorter strokes up the sides. The blend sharpens with each pass. Ethan relaxes slightly, hair sliding down the cape in steady showers.

SOPHIA
There we go. Fresh, clean. You’ll feel that breeze tonight.

She removes the guard, fading bare against his skin, sculpting a crisp outline around his ears and neck. Her hands are firm, practiced, unhurried.


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The Razor Detailing

Sophia clicks the clippers off. She reaches for a bowl, brush, and straight razor. Ethan’s eyes widen as she whips up lather.

ETHAN
Uh… what’s that for?

SOPHIA
Relax. Just cleaning the edges. Makes it sharper.

She brushes cool lather along his neckline and around his temples. The razor scrapes softly, crisping every edge. Ethan stiffens at the sound, but Sophia’s strokes are steady and quick.

SOPHIA
There. Clean as it gets.

She wipes him down, dusts the last stray hairs from his skin, and sets the razor aside.


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The Reveal

Sophia grips the chair, turning him slowly back to the mirror. Ethan blinks at his reflection — cropped short, faded tight, edges razor-clean. His mouth falls open.

ETHAN
It’s… so short.

SOPHIA
Firm. Clean. Fresh.

Ethan hesitates, then lifts a hand, rubbing across the buzzed top and down the fade. His eyes widen as a grin creeps in.

ETHAN
It feels… amazing.

SOPHIA
Told you.

She brushes him off again, her hand lingering at the back of his head with a firm rub across the fade. Then she steps back.


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The Temptation

Ethan keeps rubbing, almost laughing to himself. Then he glances at Sophia in the mirror, voice low.

ETHAN
You know… now I’m wondering if I should’ve gone even shorter.

Sophia crosses her arms, eyebrow raised.

SOPHIA
Careful. That’s how it starts.

ETHAN
What do you mean?

SOPHIA
First it’s "just a trim." Then it’s "take it to a two." Next thing, you’re in here like that shaggy kid I told you about — no guard, lather, razor. Smooth as glass. And once it’s gone, I don’t put it back on.

Ethan laughs nervously, cheeks flushing, rubbing his head again.

ETHAN
Yeah… maybe not today. But… maybe next time.

SOPHIA
(smiling)
That’s what they all say.

She dusts the cape clean, unfastens it, and lifts it away. Ethan steps out of the chair, running both hands across his fresh buzz, grinning wider with every pass.

FADE OUT.

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