Madelyn writes her own tragedy

The beginning

Madelyn was nervous. She stood in front of her editor’s office, waiting to be called in. The reason for her nervousness was certainly not an upcoming promotion or anything of the sort. She would be happy if she left Mrs. Trammers office still employed. This was not unfounded, as Madelyn had, simply said, fucked up.

After finishing college with a degree in journalism, she was ecstatic when she got a job writing for a decently sized fashion and lifestyle publication. While not being one of the internationally recognizable magazines, it was a very solid first step in her career. So, for the last one and a half year she had been hard at work doing research on trends, writing reviews and putting together articles. Her editor, Julie Trammers, had quickly recognized the good work and put Madelyn on writing a weekly blog to grow the online presence of the magazine.

This had been quite successful as with little direction and generous funds, Madelyn had been able to personally pick her topics and include a lot of her personal charm in the posts. Most of her posts were about her experiences trying some new beauty or lifestyle trend and then reviewing it. The blog had quickly garnered a loyal following and was showing good signs of growth, making the publication happy and Madelyn alike.

Here however, the trouble began. With Madelyn having had a taste of the high life, she didn’t want to go back. While her salary wasn’t bad, she couldn’t afford it herself. So, she started to use the company funds to occasionally treat herself. A nice dinner in the city, some new cloths, a visit at an expensive salon, and so on. But even with her increased expenses, no one at the company noticed or cared as her readership numbers were going strong.

Still, over the last few months she had started to take more and more, and the lifestyle she had once only dreamed about became her norm. This started to be noticeable in her blog posts with readers noticing a drop in quality. Having build an image as one of the people reporting new trends for everybody, it didn’t go over well when she started to write borderline elitist and self-centred posts. Where before she would report about new second hand fashion shops and quirky little cafés, she now wrote almost exclusively about her latest visits to luxury spas and expensive restaurants. One of her new expensive obsessions was her long blond hair. She would write extensive articles flaunting about her newest treatments and products, totally unobtainable for the average reader.

All of this resulted in a significant drop in readership. Coupled with the rising expenses, the higher-ups had started to take a closer look. All of this led to Madelyn waiting anxiously in front of her editor’s office.

 

The new article

After waiting what felt like an eternity, Madelyn was finally called into the office. Inside, Mrs. Trammers stood in front of her desk, looking quite unamused. She was an imposing lady, standing quite tall with an icy glare. Coworkers had once joked that, prior to taking this job, she was a correspondent for the marines. Madelyn felt, that with the way Mrs. Trammers looked at her right now, the rumour might not have been unfounded after all.

Pointing to one of the chairs in front of her, she ordered, “Sit down.”

Obeying that order Madelyn took a seat, with her boss still standing, now completely towering over her.

“Well Madelyn, I have to say I’m disappointed,” she started. “I personally vouched for you to be put in charge of the blog. I even made sure that you had total freedom in writing your posts.”

Madelyn tried to get a word in to explain that she did it all for the blog and her readers but was immediately shot down.

“I’m talking right now. You may talk when I am done.”

She took a paper from her desk and threw it into Madelyn’s lap.

“I had someone from accounting compile a list of expenses that you have incurred for your reviews. The amount is certainly substantial for a single person writing a single blog post a week.”

Madelyn’s heart sank into her chest seeing the total amount. She had managed to rack up more than her yearly salary in expenses. She knew she had spent some money, but she could never have imagined that it was this much.

“I think the list tells quite the detailed story. Normally, in this situation, the company would have someone fired immediately and taken to court for misappropriation of funds. But the situation right now is a little different. The higher-ups are prioritizing the online readership numbers right now. Something about hitting some KPI targets,” she explained. “They wouldn’t even have cared about the high costs if your readership numbers would continue being good. But over the last four months you had a decrease in clicks of 43 percent and a noticeable increase in negative feedback. That’s too much and too long to be a momentary slouch.”

Madelyn sat there in silence. There was nothing she could say to that. She didn’t want to fuel Mrs. Trammers wrath even more with some half assed excuses. Besides if she had to go to court in addition to being fired her life would be essentially over. There was no way she could find a job in the industry again like that. So, she sat, waiting for her boss to finish explaining.

“Now, we have decided to offer you a second chance. But there will be some drastic changes, should you accept it. Firstly, we will reduce your pay. Secondly, you will have to write two posts a week. Thirdly, we will have total creative control over you. No more independence till your readership is back up. And of course we will watch your expenses quite closely. So, what do you say? This or court?”

It wasn’t much of a choice for Madelyn. She’d do pretty much everything to keep her job, and this offer was very generous.

“I accept. I’ll get right to work. You won’t regret giving me a second chance!” Madelyn enthusiastically replied.

“Splendid.” Mrs. Trammers smiled, as if she’d already expected that answer. “I’ll personally oversee your posts from now on. Do you understand?”

Madelyn nodded.

“Good. Then it’s time to make some changes. I already looked through the comments of your posts and the thing that bothers the readers the most is your obsession with your hair. Hell, you wrote six articles about it in the last two months.”

Madelyn was confused about that. What kind of changes did her editor want to make? Besides, she thought that the readers would want to hear all about it. After treatments at the best salons her blonde hair was thick, healthy, long and looked the best it ever had. But not wanting to agitate her, she kept quiet.

“To put an end to your obsession, you will write the last article pertaining to your hair for the foreseeable future,” Mrs. Trammers said, with a slight sadistic glimmer in her eyes. “And fortunately, I have the perfect idea for that article. It seems that unisex barbershops are quickly gaining popularity, and I just happen to know the owner of one. His name is Frank, and we go way back.”

She handed Madelyn a business card, containing Franks name and the location of the shop. Madelyn had never heard that barbershops were gaining popularity, but she wouldn’t question it right now.

“Okay, no problem. Should I just go there and interview him and some of his clients?” she asked.

“No, you’re going to review it yourself. I’ll call ahead. You just get there, and Frank will take care of you. Now get moving, I want the finished article on my desk by tomorrow morning.” Her boss answered, indicating that the conversation was finished.

Though unsure what to think of that, with not much of a choice left, Madelyn left the office and got on the way.

 

The barbershop review

Madelyn arrived at Franks shop after a short drive. It was located just at the edge of the city centre on a quiet street without much traffic. Wanting to delay going inside, she lit a cigarette and took a closer look at the outside of the shop. It seemed rather plain and not remotely like some sort of up-and-coming spot. While the sign explicitly stated that the establishment was unisex, it certainly didn’t seem to try to appeal to anyone not a man over the age of 50. From outside she could not see inside, but it didn’t seem to be empty going of the sounds coming out.

She was dreading having her hair cut by some barber, but there was nothing she could really do about it now. She would just ask him to cut a few millimetres of her hair, ask a few questions to some other customers and get out of there. Then she’d write a nice article about it to placate her editor. Being content with her plan, she put out her cigarette and made her way inside.

The shop looked as old on the inside as it did on the outside. A checkered black and white floor, with two red leather chairs standing in front of two mirrors. On the walls hung an assortment of hairstyle pictures with their respective names. In Madelyn’s mind these most of the hairstyles in the pictures belonged in the last century. Thinking about it, she noted that the whole shop should belong in the last century. So pretty much ancient. She was probably just going to use classic to describe it in blog post.

Surprisingly, there weren’t just men over 50 inside. Working on clients in the chairs were two barbers. One was a woman in her late twenties to early thirties with a short pixie dyed red. The other, who she assumed was Frank, was an elder man sporting a distinct moustache.

“Hello, Frank?” she called out, trying to get his attention. “I’m Madelyn, I’m here about the article. I think Mrs. Trammers called ahead.”

Frank answered without turning his attention away from his client, “Hello, yes, she did. Take a seat on the bench, I’ll be with you in a few.”

Great. Waiting. Madelyn wanted to get out of there as quickly as possible, but what could she do? She quickly spotted the waiting bench and make her way towards it. There was another girl already sitting on the bench, concentratedly watching the barbers at work, presumably waiting for her turn. She too did not look like she belonged in this shop, with her being in about her mid-twenties. She had the looks of a model with stunning facial features and black hair cut into a neat bob. Sitting down, Madelyn instantly capitalized on her opportunity to interview someone, that wasn’t some old dude.

“Hey, I’m Madelyn, nice to meet you. Can I ask you a few questions for an article I’m writing?”

The girl seemed startled that someone had talked to her, but quickly regained her composure.

“Hi, it’s nice to meet you too. My name is Serena,” she answered with a quiet voice. “Sure, go ahead. I’m just waiting for Alex to finish up,” pointing to the red-haired woman cutting hair.

“Ok, perfect! So, are you here often?” Madelyn started, taking her phone out to record the interview.

“Yes, I’d say so. Most of the time Alex cuts my hair at home, but occasionally I pop by the store to get it cut. I really like the atmosphere here!” Serena answered, with a surprising amount of enthusiasm.

Great. There went her unbiased client interview. Madelyn was going to have to change some of the lines.

“That’s nice to hear! How long have you been coming here? What made you come here for the first time?” she asked further.

“Pretty much a year now. They had a promotion then, offering free haircuts. Never went anywhere else after that. Obviously” Serena answered, looking at Alex, who had finished her client and was waiting in her in front of the big red chair.

Not having anymore questions to ask Madelyn thanked her and watched as she made her way to take her seat. Having met Serena and seen her stylish and well-cut hair had livened her up a bit. Madelyn observed as Serena was caped up and Alex prepared her tools. However, to her shock the hairdresser didn’t grab comb and scissors, but a pair of clippers. Without any question to Serena, she plunged them into her hairline, sending stands of her raven hair down the cape, leaving only short stubble. To Madelyn’s bewilderment Serena seemed to enjoy the sheering, wearing a smile on her lips.

Madelyn was getting nervous again. Hopefully Franks wasn’t that crazy, but she was getting a bad feeling that she would not be leaving with just her hair a few millimetres shorter.

It was at this time that Frank had finished his client as well. “Come right up and take a seat, young lady,” he called out to her. Thinking back to her editor’s words about her unsure future at the publication, she stood up and walked, with rather unsteady legs, toward the chair. Taking a seat, Frank immediately put the big cape over her body. Looking at herself in the mirror she felt small and vulnerable. Looking to her right side she could see that Serena had lost almost all her hair, with the rest being removed quite meticulously by Alex. Despite Madelyn’s shock about the drastic haircut, she had to admit that Serena looked incredible with buzzed hair. It accentuated many of her good features and made them stand out more, with her appearing more confident as well. Glancing back at her own self in the mirror, her long blond hair being a stark contrast to the black cape, it was almost as if she was hiding behind all of it. Frank however didn’t seem to notice her inner conundrum and was rumbling in his toolbox.

Not wanting to risk any type of miscommunication, as Frank hadn’t asked how he should cut her hair yet, Madelyn took the initiative.

“So just a few millimetres please, ok? Maybe at maximum one centimetre,” she clarified.

“Yes yes, don’t worry. Julie called before,” he answered, meaning Mrs. Trammers, “she was quite clear in how I should cut it. No more than five millimetres all over.”

Madelyn let out a relieved sigh and said “Okay, then please go ahead.”

If her boss had already called it in, everything should be fine. She took out her phone to look at her notes, before asking Frank some questions during the haircut. Despite her apprehension and initial dislike of the place she began to feel comfortable and calm. Maybe it was a good thing to be able to turn over a new leaf with her financial wrongdoings no longer a secret. She also told herself that she would work hard to build her readership back up to repay the trust that her editor had placed in her.

 

It begins

With her being so deep in her thoughts she didn’t notice Frank readying his clippers instead of a pair of scissors. And with Serenas remaining stubble still being cleaned up by Alex’s clippers next to her, she also didn’t notice when Frank turned his pair on. Further, Frank was not a man of many words and didn’t waste any time getting to work and plunged his old but mighty clippers right down Madelyn’s forehead, sending long golden stands sliding down her head.

This Madelyn noticed. She looked up into the mirror seeing herself missing a strip of her hair. Too shellshocked to immediately say anything, she watched in horror as Frank pulled the clippers through her hair a second and third time, sending more and more of her blond locks flying to the ground and into her lap, where they already formed quite the pile. The whole process had not taken more than a few seconds with Franks many years of practice.

It was only after the sixth pass of the clippers over her head that Madelyn was able to form words to speak.

“Wait!” she simply got out. Frank stopped massacre of her locks for a moment and looked at her questioningly. With the shock leaving her slightly, she thought back at her exchange with Frank about the amount of hair to be cut. She realized that he hadn’t talked about millimetres leaving her head but staying! That’s when she recalled her weird exchange with Mrs. Trammers as well and her weird insinuation, that she would end Madelyn’s obsession with her hair. She was starting to understand what had happened.

“When Mrs. Trammers called you,” she asked Frank, “what exactly did she say? As in the haircut you are supposed to give me?”

“Buzzcut. At the most five millimetres. Like you are getting right now” he answered. “Why, do you want to go shorter? With your hair type three would also look good. Or even shorter.”

That’s when she completely understood what had happened. This was Mrs. Trammers personal disciplinary measure for Madelyn’s wrongdoings. There was no forgiveness without atonement. And this was hers. Looking at herself in the mirror again and seeing her head, already shorn beyond any salvation, she simply accepted it. Behind her Frank still looked to her, waiting for an answer to his question.

“Yeah, sure. Just do what you think is best,” she replied, simply surrendering to her fate.

Frank simply nodded slightly and mounted a different guard on his clippers and continued the shearing, with the surviving hair being even shorter now. Madelyn watched stoically as years of growth fell lifelessly around her. Next to her Alex and Serena also watched her haircut quite closely.

After only a few minutes more Frank was finished with his work. No hair on her head was longer than three millimetres, with the sides being completely bald.

“Oh my god, you look really good!” exclaimed Serena next to her. “You really went all for it!”

While not quite sharing her enthusiasm, Madelyn had to admit, that she really didn’t look bad at all. The look was still strange to her, having had long hair all her life, but she could pull it off. And it was a lot more stylish than she had previously thought. Sporting a haircut like this might even give her more credibility when writing about fashion. It was probably also the right show of goodwill to her alienated readership. She was quite literally back to her roots.

So, when leaving and Frank told her to come back in the next one or two weeks to keep it looking clean and tidy, she even considered coming back.

After all, having all her hair shaved off was atonement to her boss for what she had done. But as she drove home, a question still loomed in the back of her head.

“Was that all she’d have to do?”