Madelyn
Ashley Anderson has just finished filming her first film, and there is already talk about her being the next big star of Hollywood. But one reckless night in LA teaches her the price of naivety.
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“And… cut!”
It is the final day of shooting. The final scene. The climax that the plot was building up to—the hero and heroine marrying against all odds. A tale of forbidden love, a trope as old as time, retold once more.
A wave of applause ripples through the studio. Since it is the final day, everyone involved in the movie is present. There were a few takes of the scene already, as the director wanted to get this scene absolutely spot-on, but such was the gravitas on display that everyone could tell that this was the one. That this was the final take.
Ashley takes off the hood of her wedding gown costume and breathes a sigh of relief. As a new name in the industry with a huge role in a huge production, she’s felt the burden of expectations since the very first day of filming. But now, filming is complete. The production is happy with her performance. Her name is already being said a lot in wider circles. She has a bright future ahead of her.
But right now, Ashley wishes for rest more than anything else. She walks towards the studio’s exit, shaking hands with her fellow actors and crew members as they commend her, and goes into her personal trailer.
Of all the many customary lead actress perks that Ashley was given over the course of filming, it is having her own trailer that is her favorite. From the outside, it looks like a regular old van painted in a boring white, but inside it truly is a palace on wheels. Velvet cushions, a huge TV, and even a shower with a bathtub—the trailer is even better than Ashley’s parents’ place in Colorado.
Ashley lies on the bed and her eyes naturally begin to close out of weariness. Vivid images appear in her mind. She thinks of the red carpet, the interviews to come, bigger contracts, and maybe someday, even an Oscar. Surely, given how much of an Internet sensation she has already become, all of that isn’t entirely implausible…
There is a knock on the door. Ashley wakes up with a jolt, and wonders who it is. Surely it’s not the crew—she told them already that she’d be staying in the trailer until dinner. Ashley gets off the bed and heads for the door. She swings the door open.
Outside are Emma and Roy, and they bear wide grins on their faces.
“Heyyy Ash,” Emma says. “Whatca doing?”
“Uhm,” Ashley hesitates, quickly fixing her hair. “I was just lying down.”
Emma snorts. “Gosh, it’s adorable how nonchalant you can be. Isn’t it, Roy?”
Roy nods his head. “Uhm, I guess yeah.”
Emma gives a tiny bump with her fist to Ashley’s shoulder. “Anyway, congrats on the movie. I have to admit, you acted pretty well… for a debutant.”
Ashley blushes. It seems like there was a bit of an edge there in Emma’s voice, but Ashley cannot blame her for that. It was supposed to be Emma’s role after all—it was no secret that she really wanted the project, to star alongside her boyfriend Roy. It was also why Ashley and Emma didn’t exactly have the best of beginnings. All that considered, Ashley finds it remarkable how much their relationship has developed.
“Thanks… Emma. You’re very kind.”
There is a moment, just a brief moment, where it seemed like Emma’s expression softened, before she hand-waved Ashley’s gratitude off. “No, you deserve it girl.” Emma straightens up a bit. “Anyway, we came to ask—what are your plans for tonight?”
“Plans?” Ashley thinks. “Uhm, I don’t have any. To be honest, I was planning on just resting.”
Emma gasps. “For real? You’ve just finished your first big film, and you just want to… rest? That’s crazy!”
Roy chuckles and then turns to Ashley. “When are you leaving for Colorado?”
“The flight is tomorrow morning.”
“Ash, have you been to any of the bars and clubs that were in the list that we sent you?”
Ashley scratches her head. “Well… filming was more hectic than I thought, and so…”
Emma shakes her head. “My goodness, you’re miserable. Y’know, if it weren’t for your pretty face and gorgeous head of hair, you’d be a goner in LA.”
Ashley blushes more now than she did before, and becomes suddenly conscious of her hair. Her wavy blonde locks, which she has been growing since high school, go past her butt. In Colorado it was just hair, but here it has become a big part of her identity. It is maybe a result of the more cosmopolitan culture of LA that her long hair stands out more, that almost everyone she’s met here had something to say or ask about her hair. Yet it never grows old, and each time someone compliments it Ashley feels the heat rising in her cheeks.
“So Ashley,” Roy says, “would you like to join us?”
“Huh? I’m sorry… I wasn’t listening.”
“We were just saying that since it’s your last day here and you, well, haven’t done anything fun,” Emma smirks, “maybe you could come join us tonight for some fun?”
“Oh, where are you going?”
“We’re going to Don’s Estuary, it’s, like, the biggest club in LA, and it’s maintained by Don Sanchez, who’s a big friend of ours. Wanna come?”
Ashley mulls over it. She has never been to a club before. Let alone that, she has never had a drink. It is something that her parents always cautioned her against.
Yet, it was also something that she’s always been curious about. Surely a club can’t be as bad as her parents describe them, is what she wonders. Besides, Ashley has always exercised a level of caution when it came to exploring new things here in the city. And so she makes up her mind.
“I… I’ll come.”
“Oh my god, really? Yay! Now let’s get you dressed up.”
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Ashley, Emma, and Roy are stood outside the entrance to Don’s Estuary.
Ashley examines her outfit again, still a little apprehensive about it. It is a simple red bra top and a pair of high-waisted jeans, and nothing else. “Hey, are you sure that my clothes are okay?” she asks. “They look quite revealing.”
Emma waves her hand dismissively. “Duh, it’s fine! Once you go inside you’ll feel like you’ve overdressed.”
Ashley turns to Roy. “Is it fine, really?”
Roy thinks a little. “It is revealing, but… Emma does have a point. This is a normal look for people who frequent the club.”
Ashley sighs. “Okay, I get it. But what about the wallet? Was it really the right choice not to get it?”
“Ashley! Yes, it was for the better that you left it. Everything tonight is on Don, remember? You don’t have to pay a single cent. Besides, if you really needed money inside for some reason, you could just call me or Roy. Okay?”
“Okay then… I’m ready.”
Emma smirks. “I was waiting for you to say that.”
And so, the three enter the club. Ashley is immediately blown away by what lies in front of her eyes.
The club is huge—much bigger than Ashley imagined it would be. There is no real lighting, with most of the illumination coming from the neon props held by people. Every few meters, there is a pole accompanied by a dancer. On the opposite side of the club is a DJ in his large setup. According to the poster displayed on the huge screen behind him, he is a DJ from Europe and apparently a pretty famous one at that.
Emma taps Ashley on the shoulder and points to the bar in the centre.
“Ashley, Roy and I are gonna go and dance a little. Why don’t you go to the bar?”
“Uhm, but I don’t really drink—“
“Ashley! Look trust me, go to the bar. A pretty girl like you will surely draw attention.”
“Attention?” Ashley exclaims. “You mean from… dudes?”
Emma nods. “Yes, but not just any dudes. The people who come here are super rich—movie producers, company executives, millionaires, billionaires—you get what I’m saying, right? Treat them to a few drinks—remember it’s all on Don. Got it?”
Confused, Ashley wants to ask more, but Emma scampers off. She looks at the bar and thinks about what Emma said. The concept of Hollywood networking isn’t entirely alien to Ashley, but she has never actually done it herself before, and so the prospect seems scary. Yet, there is something about the idea of wooing these powerful people with her charm. It is an enthralling thought.
And so, Ashley walks over to the bar. The stools that line the bar are empty, presumably because it’s still early for most people to drink. With the confidence of someone who’s ordered a drink at least once, she raises her arm and asks the bartender for a pina colada.
The drink arrives, but Ashley does not drink from it yet. Instead, she occupies herself by idly stirring it until a group of men arrives and occupies the empty stools to her right.
The men are all laughing and seem to be heavily invested in something that they were discussing. They appear to belong to a range of ages—anywhere from their thirties to their fifties. But one thing that they have in common is the way they dressed—smart suits and cool pants, that declare and not scream, that they are men in power. The kind of man that Emma talked about.
Ashley glances at them and wonders whether to approach them or not. She is inclined towards staying put, as they were clearly engrossed in whatever they had going anyway. But then, she thinks, what was the point in coming here if she didn’t do a thing?
But before Ashley could make up her mind, the decision is made for her as the man seated closest to her moves just a tad closer with his eyes set on her. He is clearly a little drunk, but has an intense stare. Ashley is used to people staring at her, but his stare carries a degree of intensity that she had never seen before.
“Hey darling,” the man says, pulling his seat closer and closer to Ashley. “What are you doing here sitting all alone?”
“Hi,” Ashley creaked. She clears her throat. “I-I’m not alone. My friends are here… they just went away.”
“Oh,” he replies. “You’re here with friends? So that means, I hope, you’re single?” He chuckles.
Ashley slowly nods. “I-I am… sir.”
“Bah, don’t call me sir. You can call me Danny, and I’m still only fifty, okay?”
She nods. “Okay.”
“Well, so, what are you treating me to?”
“Treating? Oh. Oh, I get it. Uhm, would you… like a pina colada?”
“A pina colada?” Danny bursts out laughing, and Ashley turns red. “I haven’t had a pina colada in ages… so sure, why not.”
Ashley calls for the bartender, and just as she did before, orders a pina colada.
“Now beautiful, you haven’t told me your name. What is it?”
“My name is Ashley.”
“Ashley, huh.” Danny studies Ashley—examines her face, her dress, and then his eyes fall on her hair. Her hair, which is up in a bun, secured by only a small butterfly clip. Without saying anything, Danny’s hand reaches for the clip and he pulls it out, letting Ashley’s gorgeous blonde curls fall down her back in waves. She is now visibly flustered, and super conscious of how he is gawking at her hair.
“Oh my,” Danny says as he sets aside the clip. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen hair this beautiful before.
Ashley keeps her eyes trained down, still unable to process what just happened. “Uhm… thanks.”
“Come now, lemme introduce you to my friends.”
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Danny has a lot of friends. At first, Ashley assumed that he was only referring to the little group he came to the bar with, who sure enough were the first people that he introduced her to, but he knew many more.
Ashley was at the centre of it all. They were all gathered around her, forming a little circle, and asked question after question about where she came from, about her aspirations, and most notably, her beautiful hair. And as per the apparent convention, Ashley ordered a drink for every one of them. They loved it.
With the questions asked and the men drunk, requests to dance came. Ashley wasn’t much of a dancer, but she could not say no. And so she nodded along and danced along, to catchy pop tunes and electronic music. The men cheered and whistled her on. As time passed that stiffness that was in her at the beginning slowly began to fade away. Ashley had begun to soak it all in, and the alcohol sure made her gigglier than she’d normally allow herself to be.
It was only 11 PM when the legs of the men in Ashley’s entourage began to give away. One by one, they began to depart, complimenting Ashley one last time on their way out. A few grumbled something about their wives and the curfew imposed on them.
Ashley plopped herself back at the bar, the same bar where the night started. She’s had fun tonight, but she realizes that it’s better she head back home now to make it in time to the airport tomorrow morning. She looks around for Emma and Roy, but they were nowhere to be seen. She wonders if she should wait for them, but decides that tomorrow’s flight is more important. So, she heads for the main door.
Ashley looks around. The crowd has thinned significantly. She thinks back on the night she just had. The men, the booze, the music, and the dancing—it was a night that she thought she’d hate but really she loved it. She pulls her hair forward and runs her fingers through it. It has gotten a tad greasy, and Ashley can’t wait to wash it again.
Ashley was so lost in her own thoughts that she didn’t notice the two bouncers at the entrance and walked right into them. She looks up at them quizzically, waiting for them to move aside and make way for her, but they didn’t budge.
“Hey,” she says, “can you please move aside?”
The bouncers exchange looks. “Miss, we can’t,” one of them says.
“Why?”
“Lady, don’t play with us,” says the other. “What about the payment?”
“The payment?”
“The payment for the drinks. You’ve ordered a lot today, but haven’t paid for any.”
“Oh… the drinks are on Don, actually.”
The bouncers exchange a look once more and laugh.
“What do you mean? Do you even know Don?”
Ashley hesitates. “Well, my friends know him. They told me that the drinks tonight are on him. I can go and get them—“
Before Ashley turns back, one of the bouncers moves to the back and blocks her way.
“Don’t fool with us, lady. You’re trying to say that Don, through these friends of yours, set you up as some kind of honeypot scheme? Don isn’t no low-life to be doing such things.”
“But—“
“That is enough. Now, be a good girl and pay the bill.” The bouncer in the front reaches for his phone, and pulls open the image of a receipt. “Here is the amount you owe.”
Ashley peers at the number in bold, the final amount listed at the bottom, and gasps. She knew that she ordered a lot, and that she ordered some premium stuff, but even then she did not anticipate that the amount would be so high. Nonetheless, it is an amount that Ashley would only just be able to pay with the cash that she keeps with her. So, she slips her hand into her pocket, but then she remembers that she left her wallet at home.
“I… I don’t have the money,” Ashley says.
“What? What do you mean you don’t have money?” The man behind her comes close to her and pats the pockets of her jeans. “Hell, you really don’t have no money do you?”
Ashley scratches her head. “Please, just let me go home, and I’ll get the money back right now. Forget the money, I’ll get my friends and they’ll tell you everything. They know Don.”
The bouncer in the front, whose face had until now borne an expression of amusement, clenches his fists. “No. You think you can just come to Don’s fine place and just cheat the hell out of us? Nuh uh, we ain’t having it. Let’s take you to Don.”
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Unbeknownst to Ashley, the club has a basement. However, the change in atmosphere is so drastic that one could consider it to not be a part of the club. Whereas the club has a party vibe with neon lights and bright music, the basement is a dark and dingy place. The bouncers led Ashley, with her between them, through a series of corridors before they arrived outside Don’s office.
Don Sanchez looks completely different from what Ashley imagined he’d look like. Whereas Ashley thought that he’d look like the typical mafia boss, portly and suffocating, he looks like a man in his late thirties and is rather well-dressed. His black hair is in a crew cut and he has a well-shaped beard. He has a tall and slender frame, but one that suits him well. He appears to be cleaning something at a washbasin, on the side of the room opposite to the door, and turns when the door opens. He is cleaning a pair of scissors.
“Santi, Xavi, what do we have here?”
The bouncer to Ashley’s left steps forward. “Señor. This chica tried to leave the club without paying.”
“I see,” Don says, walking forward. “What is your name?”
“Uhm… Ashley, sir. I didn’t mean to leave without paying.”
Don slides the scissors into his pocket and puts his fingers on his chin. “Okay, then?”
“My friends, they know you, sir. Emma and Roy. They told me to buy drinks for the guests, and that the drinks would be on you.”
“Emma and Roy…” Don says. “I’ve never heard of them.”
Ashley squints her eyes. “But they told me that—”
“No,” Don says sternly. “I don’t know any Emma or Roy.”
Ashley gasps. Does Don not remember? Or… could it be?
“Listen, I don’t know what your plan is here. But it is not working, Ashley. Do you have the money?”
The same bouncer continues. “Señor, we’ve already searched her. She doesn’t have any money with her.”
Don laughs. “Oh, how typical.”
“Sir, I do not know what you mean by that, but I have the money at home. I’m… an actress. Just let me go, and I’ll get the money.”
Don laughs again, but this time harder. “Oh, if only you knew how many of your type we get at this club every week. I do not know what kind of acting you do, but I’m sure as hell it is not real acting, if you know what I mean. That said,” Don says, slowly circling around Ashley, “you have some wonderful hair. Is it real?”
Ashley stammers. “Y-yes, it is.”
Don nods. “Okay.” Without a word, he begins to run his fingers through Ashley’s mane. “My goodness, it really is some wonderful hair. I don’t see such long hair in the city much. How long have you been growing it?”
Despite the tense atmosphere, Ashley finds herself turning a tad red listening to Don compliment her hair. Yet, she also wonders where he’s trying to go with this. “I’ve had long hair all my life, actually.”
“Marvelous.” Don removes his hand from her hair, and comes back in front of Ashley.
“Here’s a deal—I cut all your hair, and we can forget about the money you owe. Capisce?”
Ashley blinks, unable to process what she just heard. “What?”
Don comes forward, and makes a scissor gesture with his hand and positions it near Ashley’s chin. “I was saying, let me cut all your hair, and we can forget about the money.”
“M-my… hair?”
“Yes, your hair.”
Ashley peers into Don’s eyes, hoping that this is only a cruel joke that he is playing with her. But there is not a hint that he’s joking about this, and he appears to stare at Ashley’s hair with some intent. Ashley nervously brings her hair to the front, and runs her fingers through it, as if to protect it.
“Is there nothing else that I can do?”
“Well, I could just call the cops. And believe me, if I called the cops, whatever acting career you claim to have will end.”
Ashley’s eyes begin to well. She is starting to think that there really may not be any other way out of this.
“How short will you cut it?”
Don pulls the scissors out of his pocket, and turns them around in his fingers. “Just a little. Enough so that you won’t do it again.”
Ashley glances backward. The door is blocked by the two bouncers, and they look like they are ready to get physical if required.
Realizing that she is out of options, Ashley nods her head.
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A chair is arranged at the centre of Don’s office, and Ashley is made to take the seat. She sits without twitching a muscle, knowing that if she tried anything she’d be a goner. Don fetches a comb, and begins to run it through Ashley’s hair.
“How do you normally get your haircuts? Dry or wet?”
“I… I don’t go to the salon often. I just trim the ends myself.”
“Okay. Look, you have a lot of hair, and I think it would be difficult to cut it dry. I think we should make it a little wet first?”
“Okay.”
Don makes a gesture, and a minute later, Ashley senses one of the bouncers coming behind her. She was not ready when what seemed like a mug of water was dropped over her hair.
Ashley wheezes, struggling to regain her breath for a few moments. She feels her top, now all wet, plastered to her skin, and her hair plastered to her back.
“There, much better.” Don grabs a chunk of Ashley’s hair up in front of her, and positions the scissors halfway through the length. “Since this is the first cut, we can only snip a little. Ready?”
Dan closes the scissors before Ashley could even respond. The rusty creak of the scissors and crinkle of wet hair reaches her ears. She watches as her hair is cut off, and as Don lets go of it and it falls down onto Ashley’s lap. Don called it a snip, but it is a lot of hair that is now on her lap.
“Will you look at that, that is some liquid gold,” Don says. “Hair like this, with its thickness and length—will fetch me a good amount. If I don’t keep it to myself, that is.” Don sniggers as he grabs the next chunk and readies the shears.
Ashley thinks about all the little interactions she’s ever had with her hair. Family members saying she should grow it longer, boys in high school complimenting her on it, the increased attention she’s received since moving to LA, the casting person saying her hair will land her role upon role, people on the street coming up to her and asking her about it, and people online saying wonderful things about it. Ashley was always the long-haired girl, and to some, that was all she was. But as Ashley watches the pile on her lap grow a little by little, it begins to dawn on her that there is no going back to that life.
Ashley picks up a chunk of hair from her lap, and examines it. It is a lot of length that has been snipped off. She starts to wonder what Don really meant when he said just a little. She places her hand on top of her head and runs her fingers through the length that remains.
There is barely any length left.
Ashley cannot hold it in any longer. She grabs the hair on her lap to her eyes and sobs. Not soft sobs, but big and loud ones. Don, however, does not care a bit, and continues snipping away, each snip taking away more length than the previous snip did.
Even after the snipping is complete, Ashley remains rooted at the chair, completely devastated. Don pries away the hair from Ashley’s hands, and she does not resist. Ashley returned home and slept without looking at a mirror once, knowing that she wouldn’t be able to stomach her new look.
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It is Saturday afternoon. The Anderson household is usually quiet at this time, but not today, for its two residents are beaming with excitement. Mr. Anderson and Mrs. Anderson eagerly wait at the front door, their daughter set to arrive home any minute now.
“Do you think LA has changed her?” Mr. Anderson asks in a cheery tone.
“Absolutely. She told me that she’s done a lot of shopping and that she’s completely changed her style,” Mr. Anderson replies eagerly.
“Wow,” Mr. Anderson chuckles.
“What I’m most looking forward to see is her hair! She’s been telling me that the stylists do her hair everyday, and they’ve given a number of products too. She already has such wonderful hair, but now it’s going to have a Hollywood shine to it!”
The doorbell rings, and the Andersons hurry forward and open the door. Ashley is at the doorstep, jacket, jeans, and beanie on. She looks tensed.
“Welcome back home!” Mr. Anderson hugs her daughter and launches into a series of motherly kisses. “How was the flight?”
“It was good. All good.”
“What’s the matter, Ash?” Mr. Anderson asks. His daughter usually carried herself with a cheery demeanor, and so Mr. Anderson could tell that something is off.
Ashley steps back a little, putting some space between herself and her mother. “T-there is something I need to show you… please don’t freak out.”
The Andersons do not say another word and wait. They watch as their daughter takes off her beanie, but instead of her long blonde waves pouring down, there is hair shorter even than Mr. Anderson’s.
“Ashley, what the fuck—”
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Thank you for reading my story, and I hope that you liked it. I do not do paid commissions, but I highly value story ideas suggested to me by readers. So if you’re interested in hair and have ideas to share, please join my hair fetish Discord server!
