Short and neat by Emily

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Jacob took a pen and signed his employment contract. He was the best candidate, and the prospect of working for a big company filled him with pride.

"There's one more thing," his boss said, sweeping his gaze over Jacob's long hair, flowing down his back and chest.
"You must cut your hair before you start work tomorrow," he added, his voice firm, even a little harsh.

"Cut my hair?" Jacob's eyes widened in sudden fear, and his stomach turned. "You didn’t mention anything about it earlier."

"We want all our employees to look smart and neat. You'll be representing the company," the boss explained.

Jacob's hand trembled. He looked down at the signature he had just made and realized it was too late. He had no choice but to comply with the requirements.

Hannah, the young assistant, dressed in a tight black dress with her hair perfectly done, smiled faintly as she saw the terror on Jacob's face. She knew exactly what the boss was like â€" strict and uncompromising. There was no way he would allow Jacob to keep his mane like that. It looked… unprofessional.

Jacob left the room on shaky legs. Cutting his hair was the last thing he wanted, yet he had no other choice. Or maybe… maybe there was a way to save it. Why should his hair be a problem? He had qualifications, energy, drive. That was what really mattered.

Hannah followed him, speaking warmly, as if reading his thoughts. "You’d better do it. If you show up tomorrow with long hair, the boss will be furious, and you’ll get in trouble."

She placed a hand gently on his shoulder, letting her fingers brush against the soft locks. "You don’t want to be fired on your first day, do you?"

Jacob was unable to say a word. He wanted to stamp his foot in anger and cry that life was so unfair.

"There's a salon nearby," Hannah said, taking his trembling hand. "I can go with you, so you feel more comfortable during your haircut. I guess you need someone's company right now."

But no—he didn’t. He couldn’t imagine this strange girl being there while he lost his hair. It felt like stripping himself bare in front of her.

"No, thanks," he said weakly. "I’ll manage on my own."

He wanted her to leave him alone, yet she didn’t seem to notice. She was ready to be by his side, sitting with him in the barber’s chair, believing she could help.

A few minutes later, they stood in front of the salon door. Jacob wasn’t sure he wouldn’t faint, but Hannah held his hand, giving him courage.

"How can I help you?" the barber asked, a little confused at the unusual pair: him—pale and terrified, her—smiling and confident.

"My colleague needs a haircut. Short and neat," she said cheerfully, with a hint of mockery toward her boss.

"You got it," the barber replied, turning the chair toward Jacob.

He saw his own reflection in the mirror and felt dizzy. Why was the boss so cruel? Why couldn’t he just focus on his work and stay true to himself?

The barber ran his fingers through Jacob’s long locks, and Jacob barely managed not to pull away. He was praying that Hannah would leave, but she had no intention of doing so.

"I guess you can go now," he said, turning his eyes toward her, hoping she wouldn’t insist on staying. "Thanks for bringing me here, but I don’t want you to waste your time with me."

"I’m not in a hurry," she replied with excitement. "I really can’t wait to see the final result."

Jacob wished the floor would open and swallow him up. Even as the barber draped the cape around his neck, he felt completely exposed. He was terrified of how he would look — the thought of his face no longer framed by his hair made him feel sick.

"It has to be really short," Hannah instructed the barber. "Our boss doesn’t like any other style."

The man picked up the clippers, ready to begin.

Jacob wanted to stop him, to scream that he wouldn’t be able to bear it, when the sound of the clippers filled the room.

He saw the barber’s hand approaching, like a monster about to devour him. But it was too late. He felt the blades touch his nape, slicing through the first strand of his hair.

Hannah watched with quiet pleasure as Jacob’s dark locks fell, one after another, like black snow.

He gripped the arms of the chair, wishing he could disappear. The reflection in the mirror terrified him. The barber was working quickly and efficiently, sending more and more hair tumbling to the floor.

Aware of Hannah’s presence, of her eyes fixed intently on his transformation, Jacob felt utterly crushed. His hair — all of it — lay scattered around him like distant memories of his former self.

The stranger staring back from the mirror couldn’t possibly be him.

Hannah stepped closer to inspect the result.
"I think it should be even shorter," she decided calmly. "Then it would be perfect."

Jacob couldn’t understand why she was acting this way — without even asking what he wanted.

He closed his eyes when Hannah placed a hand on his shoulder.
"Trust me," she whispered. "And remember — short and neat."

The barber continued the cut. The clippers touched Jacob’s head again, like a hungry dragon biting away at what was left. He felt Hannah’s warmth — and the cold air on his nape — all at once.

He wished it were only a bad dream. But it wasn’t. His hair was gone, and everything he had been seemed to lie scattered on the floor.

"I’m done," the barber said with a smile. "Do you like it?"

Jacob couldn’t speak. How could he possibly like it?

Hannah gave his new look an approving glance.

"Now it’s short enough," she said, brushing her fingers lightly over Jacob’s head. The touch sent an unpleasant shiver down his spine.

He would have rather looked for another job, even begged his boss to let him keep his long hair. Maybe he could have tied it back into a ponytail. But now it was pointless to think about it. His hair was gone, and he hated everything about his new image.

They left the salon, and Hannah glanced at his angry, miserable face.
"You don’t look happy," she said softly.

"Why should I?" Jacob muttered, wishing she would finally leave him alone.
"You know it couldn’t be helped, so it was better to do it right away", she tried to appease him. "I thought it would be nice to go through it together".

"Together," Jacob snorted. "It was me who went through hell, not you." He had never felt so humiliated in his life.

"You’ll get used to it," Hannah replied, clearly unable to understand why he was making such a big deal out of it. "It’s only hair, and now you’re ready for work. You should be grateful for my help."

"I didn’t ask for it," he said harshly.

Hannah turned on her heel and finally left him.
"See you tomorrow," she called over her shoulder.

Jacob made up his mind. He would grow his hair back — and stay at the company only as long as his hair was acceptable to his boss.

Jacob looked at his reflection one last time, letting the image of his long hair fade from memory. Even without it, he felt a small spark of defiance burning inside him. He straightened his shoulders and took a deep breath. Tomorrow, he would face it all — and he would do it his way. The past was gone, but the future — and his hair — could still be his.

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