CHAPTER 38: NEW STYLE

I was heading home until I walked past a barbershop. At first, I just walked by, but then I backed up and looked at myself in the window.

My reflection stared back, and I had to wince. My hair was a mess. No style, no direction. It was the kind of haircut you get when your only hairstylist is gravity and a pillow. True loner behavior.

’Wow,’ I thought, my brief moment of confidence from the call with Nina evaporating. ’I look like a mess.’

For years, I hadn’t cared. Why would I? Who was going to see it? But now, someone was. Someone was waiting for me at the corner every morning. Someone was going to be sitting with me in the most boring club in school.

’Well,’ I thought, a new, weird feeling taking root in my gut. ’I guess it’s time to try a little.’

The decision felt both terrifying and ridiculously small. It was just a haircut. But it felt like a bigger deal. I took a deep breath, shoved my shaky hands in my pockets, and walked into the shop.

A little bell chimed as the door opened. The place smelled clean, like mint and whatever that blue stuff they keep the combs in is. There was only one person working, a woman with a cool, asymmetrical black haircut that was shaved on one side. She was wiping down a chair, and looked up at me with a friendly, sharp-eyed smile.

"Hey there," she said, her voice easy and a little raspy. "Don’t just stand there like you’re about to get arrested. Come on in."

I walked forward, feeling like I was on a different planet.

"First time here?" she asked, gesturing to the chair.

"Uh, yeah," I said, my voice coming out a little croaky.

"I can tell," she said with a grin. "You’ve got that ’my mom usually just takes me to SuperCuts’ look about you. No offense to your mom."

I just blinked at her. She was teasing me. A complete stranger was just... teasing me. It was wild. I didn’t know what to do, so I just sat down in the big, comfy chair. She spun me around to face the mirror.

"So, what’s the plan, chief?" she asked, picking up a comb. "Just a little off the top? Or are we going for a full-on glow-up today?"

I looked at my reflection, then at the laminated book of hairstyles on the counter next to me. I picked it up, my fingers feeling clumsy. I flipped through the pages of smiling men with perfect, boring hair. None of it felt right.

Then I saw it. Tucked in the back, probably an older picture, was a guy with the exact haircut. That one. The one where it’s cut short underneath, almost an undercut, but the hair on top is longer and just sort of falls over the shaved part. It was clean, it was stylish, and it was one hundred percent the default hairstyle for every cool, stoic protagonist in every manhwa I’d ever read.

’Oh, hell yeah,’ I thought. ’The manhwa protagonist special.’

I pointed to it without a word.

She leaned over to look, and her grin got wider. "Oh, okay! So it is a glow-up. I like your style, kid. Bold choice." She spun me back around and draped a cape over me. "Alright, let’s make you look like a cartoon character," she said, winking at me in the mirror before picking up the clippers.

The clippers buzzed to life, and I instinctively closed my eyes. The first pass was a jarring, vibrating sensation against my scalp.

"So," she said, her voice easily audible over the hum. "What’s the occasion for the big glow-up? Got a hot date?"

My eyes snapped open. My face immediately felt hot. ’A date? Hell no. It’s way, way more complicated than that.’

"Uh, no," I mumbled at my own reflection. "Just... wanted a change."

She laughed, a low, knowing sound. I could see her eyes watching me in the mirror. "A change, huh? A change this big is usually for one of two reasons: a breakup or a new crush. Let me guess... not a breakup."

My mouth went dry. She was too sharp. How did this random barber just see right through me?

"It’s complicated," I finally managed, my voice barely a whisper.

"Aren’t they all," she said, switching from the clippers to a pair of scissors with a quiet snip-snip sound. She was concentrating on the hair on top now, her movements quick and precise. "Well, whoever she is, she’s got you trying. That’s a good sign."

Her words hit me, echoing the thought I’d had right before I walked in. I was trying. The realization settled in my stomach, not with a sense of panic, but with a strange, quiet acceptance.

"Most guys your age just want to look cool for their buddies," she continued, her tone conversational as she worked. "But a haircut like this, a real style change? That’s almost always for a girl. You want her to see you."

I didn’t say anything. I couldn’t. She had just taken the jumbled, chaotic mess of feelings I’d had and laid them out in a simple, obvious line. I wanted Nina to see me.

"Don’t worry," she said, seeming to sense my internal crisis. "I won’t tell your secret. Besides," she paused, stepping back to eye her work. "It’s gonna look good. She’ll notice."

The rest of the haircut was quiet, but it was a comfortable quiet now. She’d already said everything she needed to say.

"Alright," she said finally, turning off the small blow dryer she’d been using. "Open them eyes up."

I opened my eyes.

And I just stared.

It was me in the mirror, but it... wasn’t. The long, messy hair that used to flop over my eyes was gone. The sides were clean and sharp, and the longer hair on top had a texture to it now, not just a limp curtain. My face looked... different. More defined. My jawline seemed sharper without all that hair hiding it.

’Holy shit,’ was the only thought in my head. ’I actually... look good?’

"Not bad, right?" the barber said, leaning on the back of my chair and looking at my reflection. "Told you. She’ll definitely notice."

My own face felt hot again. "It’s... yeah," I said, unable to form a real sentence. "It’s good. Thanks."

"Any time, kid."

I paid her, my hands feeling a little shaky, and walked out of the shop, the little bell chiming behind me. I felt the cool air on the sides of my head, a sensation that was completely new. I walked a few steps, then stopped and touched my hair. It was real. I did that.

I felt... lighter. Not just because I had less hair. It was strength it took to change, it was a huge step in the right direction.