Haircutgirl
Link to photos:Visuals
The café hummed with low conversation and the clink of porcelain. Dani stirred her latte absently, sunlight catching in the loose waves of her blonde hair, making them shimmer.
Lila, her friend, watched her from across the small table, the steam from her untouched coffee curling between them.
She leaned forward, something delicate glinting in her hand—a thin gold bracelet, an intricate design winding along its edge.
“Here,” Lila said. “I saw this and thought of you.”
Dani blinked down as Lila placed it in her palm. It was beautiful, delicate—but something about it felt odd, a subtle prickle dancing over her skin before she’d even fastened it.
“It’s gorgeous,” Dani said, turning it between her fingers.
Lila smiled, slow and knowing. “Try it on.”
Dani hesitated, then slipped it onto her wrist. A strange warmth bloomed beneath the metal, spreading up her arm, a pleasant weight settling over her. She exhaled, meeting Lila’s gaze.
“I think…” Dani paused, frowning slightly as a thought slipped into her mind—unshaped but insistent.
“I think I want to go to the salon.”
Lila’s fingers tightened around her coffee cup.
“Oh?”
“Yeah…” That was weird. She wasn’t even due for a trim. But the thought wouldn’t leave her. Dani absentmindedly toyed with hair, brows drawing together, expression somewhere between curiosity and confusion.
Lila’s smile widened. “Let’s go, then.”
—
The whole walk there, Dani tried to rationalize it. She loved her hair. Everyone loved her hair. It cascaded in soft waves past her shoulders, a feature she knew turned heads and made her boyfriend, Jake, weak in the knees. She’d always thought she’d regret not keeping it long.
She glanced sideways at Lila, searching for a reason to turn back. Lila just gave her a small, satisfied smile.
Inside, the salon buzzed with blow dryers and chatter. Dani sat in the familiar chair, heart hammering, twisting a lock of hair around her finger.
“So, what are we doing today?” Ava, her usual stylist, asked brightly.
Dani opened her mouth to say the usual—but something else slipped out.
“I think I want… a change.”
Ava blinked. Behind her, Lila stifled a smirk.
Dani hesitated, her pulse pounding. Wait, what? A change? But she loved her hair. Yet, for some reason, a single word clawed its way to the forefront of her mind, something she’d never seriously considered but had always been strangely fascinated by.
A mullet.
She thought about them sometimes, in secret. She’d seen them on edgy girls with effortless confidence, but she had always dismissed the idea. Too risky. Too ugly. Too humiliating. And yet—
“I think… I want a mullet?” Her own voice sounded foreign to her.
Ava froze. “A mullet?”
Dani stared at her reflection. “I—yes?”
Lila let out a tiny gasp—half shock, half delight. Dani turned to her, searching for help, any kind of intervention, but Lila just tilted her head and said sweetly, “Sounds cute.”
Something about the way she said it, the look in her eyes, made a chill creep up Dani’s spine.
“Are you sure?” Ava asked, tilting her head just slightly, scissors poised. “Your hair is gorgeous, Dani. I mean, a mullet is…” She gave a soft, pitying laugh under her breath, as if she couldn’t quite help it. “It’s a choice. Not one I saw coming from you.”
“I know,” Dani whispered, feeling a lump rise in her throat. “I know, but… I want this, I guess.”
Ava’s brows pulled together, confused, suspicious. For a moment, she just looked at Dani — searching, maybe, for the reason behind it. She tilted Dani’s chin up, studying her. “You’re full of surprises,” she said sweetly.
Then Ava let out a quiet, almost delighted laugh, like she couldn’t believe her luck. “If that’s what you want…” she said, reaching for her scissors. “Who am I to say no?”
Ava combed through the heavy fall of Dani’s hair, lifting the top layers with a practiced, almost clinical touch. She didn’t say anything at first — just studied Dani’s reflection, her mouth twitching at the corners.
Then Ava moved. She gripped a section of hair at Dani’s crown, stretched it between her fingers, and with a single decisive cut, severed it. The hair fluttered down onto Dani’s lap in soft, shining ribbons. A twinge of something strange filled Dani—a flutter in her chest, a whisper of exhilaration mixed with an odd sense of dread.
She had always noticed mullets. Always. The women who wore them with unshakable confidence, who strode through the world as if the absurdity of their haircut only made them stronger. Why would anyone choose that? she’d wondered before, perplexed, caught between fascination and horror, never quite able to look away.
And now, here she was.
The scissors moved again, and another thick section tumbled into her lap, severed without hesitation. A tiny gasp slipped from her lips before she could stop it. She bit down hard, pressing her thighs together as something raw and unfamiliar sparked inside her.
Ava hesitated, combing through the jagged remnants of Dani’s once-pristine hair. “And the sides?” she asked.
“Shorter,” Dani said, detached. “Shorter, and the top can be a bit shorter too.”
Ava clicked her tongue, pretending to consider it, though her shears were already working. She trimmed the top down further, rough, efficient. No pretty layers, no softening — just brutal mullet.
The clippers roared to life. Ava moved in close, and the sides gave way under her hands, neat swaths of soft hair falling like silk ribbons. Dani barely breathed, the world tilting around her.
Lila covered her mouth, eyes wide with delighted horror. “Oh my God.”
Dani laughed, giddy and a little horrified. “I know.”
“Bangs?” Ava asked, casual again, like it didn’t matter — like there was still time to turn back. “Messy and soft or…?”
Dani’s lips parted. She looked like she might say something else — something safer — but instead, she said, “Blunt. Short.”
The comb paused mid-stroke. Ava blinked once, slow. Then she smoothed the hair down hard against Dani’s forehead and cut straight across without hesitation, a sharp, mechanical motion.
The hair dropped in wet, heavy clumps, scattering over Dani’s lashes and lap.
Lila gave a long, shaky exhale, a sound of both awe and disbelief.
The architecture of it — the stark bangs, the stripped crown, the dramatic, untouched fall at the back — looked magnificent. Brutal, but somehow — impossibly — striking.
Ava arched an eyebrow, amused but not unkind now. “So,” she said, flicking the comb through the long back, “what are we doing with this?”
Dani shrugged, a little grin pulling at her mouth.
“I mean… it’s kinda cool like this,” she said, running her fingers lightly over the freshly shorn top.
Lila snorted, trying to stifle a laugh, caught off-guard by Dani’s deadpan seriousness.
“But…” Dani continued, tilting her head thoughtfully, “I think I want it short. Like… just past my shoulders?”
Ava hesitated. “Dani—”
Ava hesitated, then obeyed. Thick strands slid down Dani’s back like the ghost of someone she’d outgrown.
Lila clapped her hands together, delighted. “You look amazing.”
A slow, stunned smile broke over Dani’s face.
Her fingers twitched, eager to touch it, to trace the sharp lines, the bold shape. The excitement still coursed through her, intoxicating, drowning out the faint murmur of unease that lingered somewhere just out of reach.
A mullet. *Her* mullet.
She should be horrified. And yet… she wasn’t.
She turned her head from side to side, examining herself with a detached sort of fascination. So this is what it’s like. The curiosity that had gnawed at her for years, the secret fixation she had never understood, was now sated.
“What’s Jake going to think?” Lila asked, voice teasing, like she already knew it was a loaded question.
Jake.
A flicker of doubt, so small she barely felt it. He loved her hair. He always told her she looked like a goddess.
She glared at her reflection, refusing to look away.
He’ll get used to it.
“I’m seeing him tonight,” Dani murmured, her fingers instinctively grazing the side of her head, feeling the smoothness that had replaced the length.
Lila let out a snort, eyes full of wicked amusement. “Oh, I cannot wait to hear what he thinks.” There was something almost pitying in her tone, something unbearably smug.
Dani didn’t understand it, not yet.
But she would.
—
Dani lingered outside Jake’s apartment, her fingers ghosting over the delicate band on her wrist. The salon felt like a dream, like something she’d imagined in a fevered state, yet here she was—with a short mullet, the length of her long, golden hair nothing more than a memory.
Her heart hammered in her chest. Would he laugh? Would he hate it?
Would he still want her?
She exhaled sharply and knocked.
The door swung open, and there he was—Jake, shirtless, his dark hair tousled, blinking at her with lazy curiosity before his gaze sharpened, his mouth parting slightly.
He stared.
She clenched her jaw. Say something.
His lips quirked. “Holy shit.”
She hugged herself tightly, already regretting everything. What was I thinking?
Jake stepped closer, tilting his head as if seeing her for the first time. And then—he smirked.
His hands found her waist, fingers sliding just under the hem of her shirt. “You look so different,” he said, voice husky.
“Is that… bad?” she whispered.
His lips brushed her ear as he whispered, “No. It’s sexy.”
She blinked. “What?”
Jake’s grin widened. “I don’t know, babe, it’s sexy in a weird way.” His hand slid to the back of her head, fingers tangling in what little length she had left.
“I don’t even know why I did it,” she admitted, voice low, almost to herself. “It’s like I couldn’t stop myself.”
Jake grinned, looking at her like he wanted to ruin her. His thumb stroked the freshly shorn side of her head, his touch sending a jolt through her.
“I’m glad you did,” he said, voice low.
But Jake was still looking at her the same way he always did. No, she realized, not the same. There was something new there, something almost… amused. Like he enjoyed watching her squirm, watching her fluster under her own choices.
He leaned in, his lips brushing against the shell of her ear, his breath warm against her newly bare skin.
“You’re embarrassed, aren’t you?” he murmured.
A shudder ran through her.
Yes. She was. Mortified. Exposed.
She had spent years convinced that men loved long hair. That cutting it off would mean losing her desirability. And yet—
Jake tilted her chin up, kissing her deeply, and all her lingering doubts melted away.
Later, tangled in his sheets, her body still thrumming from his touch, Dani undid the bracelet and drifted into sleep, unaware of what she had set in motion.
—
The morning light was cruel. Dani stretched—and felt it instantly. The absence. No long hair pooling over her shoulders. Only bare skin and jagged tufts.
Her stomach twisted. No. No, it wasn’t real. It couldn’t be.
She stumbled to the mirror.
The moment she saw her reflection, the air left her lungs in a strangled, silent gasp.
The sides were brutally short, nothing more than soft fuzz beneath her fingertips. The top, choppy and uneven, stuck up in wild tufts from where Jake had dragged his fingers through it last night. And the back—oh, God, the back—was barely longer than her shoulders, thin and awkward, hanging limply. A mullet.
She looked ridiculous.
Her mind reeled, trying to piece together how this had happened, why she had done this to herself.
Her beautiful, long hair—gone. She had spent years nurturing it, taking pride in it. It had framed her face so perfectly, softening every edge, making her look delicate, feminine. Now? She looked—
Dorky. Ugly. Wrong.
A slow, burning heat crawled up her neck, shame curling in her stomach like a snake but it made sense.
Like a puzzle piece sliding into place, a quiet, horrifying realization settled over her. The way she always noticed mullets, how they held her gaze too long. Every time she saw one—especially on a woman—she had stared too long, caught somewhere between fascination and repulsion. It was an itch in the back of her mind, an odd little obsession she had never understood.
Hadn’t she always known?
Like fate had been creeping toward her, slow and patient, waiting for the moment she finally surrendered.
A mullet. Her mullet.
God, it was hideous.
But it belonged to her now.
A low chuckle broke through her trance. She startled, whipping around to find Jake leaning against the doorway, arms crossed over his bare chest. His expression was unreadable at first, but then—a grin.
“Well,” he drawled, stepping closer, “look at you.”
She braced for mockery. Disgust.
Instead, Jake’s eyes dragged over her, slow and assessing, before he reached out—fingers threading through the jagged layers, brushing along the shaved sides. A slow, deliberate touch.
“It’s kinda dorky,” he admitted.
She flinched. God, he noticed too.
“But it’s hot,” he murmured, tugging lightly at the nape.
Her breath caught.
“I thought you’d hate it,” she whispered.
He huffed a laugh. “Me?” he said quickly, hands sliding through the jagged layers. Then, after a beat, he gave a crooked grin. “Actually… maybe I like it better?” The slight questioning lilt in his voice betrayed just the tiniest bit of uncertainty.
She blinked at him.
“You do?”
Jake grinned. “I think you do too.”
She searched his face, but he only watched her, patient and knowing. Slowly, Dani turned back to the mirror.
The initial shock had dulled, leaving something unexpected in its wake—acceptance. A strange, reluctant excitement curled in her stomach. Maybe she was one of those women who wore a mullet without shame. Maybe it suited her in a way she never allowed herself to consider before.
And maybe… maybe she was done worrying about whether men would find her attractive. Jake certainly had no complaints.
“You keep checking yourself out,” he teased.
Dani flushed, tugging her fingers through the jagged layers. “It’s weird, okay? I had long hair my whole life, and now I have—this.”
Jake tilted his head. “And?”
Her fingers lingered at the back of her neck, lips parting as she realized the truth.
“And… I think I like it?” she guessed, wonder creeping into her voice.
—
Dani stepped out of the apartment, the morning sun sharp and unrelenting, illuminating every unfamiliar edge of her new self. Her fingers drifted to the short sides of her hair as reality sank deeper into her bones. This wasn’t a temporary joke. This wasn’t a dream that would fade with the dawn.
This was her, for the foreseeable future.
She drew a deep, steadying breath. Could she really walk around like this? The thought sent another hot wave of humiliation coursing through her, but beneath it, something else burned; Curiosity.
Lila was already waiting at the bar, arms folded. She had been dying for this moment, waiting to see Jake’s face twist in disappointment, waiting to see Dani squirm with regret.
But the moment Lila spotted them—spotted Jake, standing at Dani’s side, his hand drifting up to playfully tug at the back of her hair—her expression faltered.
When Dani sat across from her, Lila forced a wide-eyed expression. “Oh my God, Dani. It’s really something.”
Dani looked down, still a bit shy about it. “Yeah. I’m still getting used to it.”
Lila leaned in, feigning concern. “How do you feel about it now?”
Dani laughed, fingers running through her hair. “Honestly? I think I love it.”
Lila felt her pulse spike. “What?”
“I mean, I was shocked at first,” Dani admitted. “But I’ve always been kind of fascinated by mullets. But I was terrified to ever actually get one. I mean, I had beautiful hair.” She shrugged, smiling.
Jake smirked, nudging her. “Still do.”
She rolled her eyes but couldn’t suppress the small smile forming on her lips. “Now I’ve done it, and… I don’t know. I love it. It’s surreal.”
Lila blinked, her composure slipping just slightly before she forced a smile. “Wow. That’s… unexpected.”
Dani shrugged. “Yeah. Tell me about it.”
Lila left the café in a daze. How had this backfired so spectacularly? Dani was supposed to be humiliated, lost, regretting every snip of that ridiculous haircut. But instead, she was thriving. Confident. More magnetic than before. And Jake—Jake—was completely enchanted by her.
Lila had thought she understood the magic of the enchanted trinket. She had wielded it with purpose, crafting a perfect little disaster. But maybe she had been wrong. Maybe she had misused it.
That thought followed her as she walked, almost unconsciously, to the small, tucked-away shop where she had found Dani’s bracelet. The air inside was thick with incense and mystery, the shelves lined with trinkets and talismans, each promising something unseen.
The shopkeeper, an older woman with sharp eyes, glanced up as Lila approached. “Back so soon?”
Lila hesitated. “I need another one.”
