Tony
Elisê Kingsley always hated spending time with her mother Allegra. Her mother was of the high society scene. Whereas Elisê was more of the goth scene, as shown by her black corset long sleeve top, leather black pants, and high heel studded boots, and long straight black hair.
Everytime mother and daughter got together, it always turned into a nightmare of arguing and shouting. Allegra didn’t like her daughter wearing the kind of clothing she wore, didn’t like Elisê dying her hair from blonde to black, didn’t like the Gothic make-up she wore. The list went on and on.
Elisê problems with her mother were mirrored. She didn’t like her mother trying to force her to wear bright colored clothes, have her hair it’s natural blonde color, or wear make-up that made her look like a normie.
After years of being forced to endure her mother and her mother’s consist complaining, Elisê was set to leave for college and never look back. But sadly things didn’t go as planned as her father, whom she had been living with since her parents divorce when she was twelve, suddenly passed away, leaving the fresh eighteen year old Elisê to have to move in with her mother for the summer.
The problems started almost immediately. Elisê hadn’t even gotten unpacked, before her mother made her way into her room and took all her bags of clothing. “Now that you are here, in my house, you’ll be following my rules until you leave for college. Rules that include no black clothing, no black hair, and none of these Gothic look. You have appointment at Foster’s to have your hair bleach and dyed back to your natural hair color. After that we’ll go get you clothes that are fitting of a girl of high society.” Her motjer told her sternly.
Elisê felt the anger bubble up inside her, but she kept her cool. She had learned from her father that sometimes you just have to pick your battles. So she nodded and followed her mother to the salon. The whole time she was there, she felt like she was being scrubbed away. The bright lights glaring down on her as they washed the black out of her hair, making her skin seem paler than usual. The stylist chatting away about the latest trends that made her want to scream. But she bit her tongue, because she knew that this was only temporary.
When they got home, Allegra had laid out a pile of clothes that were the epitome of everything Elisê hated. Pink dresses, pastel blouses, and a collection of skirts that made her feel like she was being buried alive in a sea of color. She tried to protest, but her mother wouldn’t have it. “These are the clothes you’ll be wearing this summer. Take them to your room and change. We have an event tonight and I expect you to look presentable.”
As Elisê was walking away with her new clothing, Allegra stopped her once more. “Oh and I have signed you up for the summer debutante.”
Elisê’s eyes widened in shock and horror. “What?!” she exclaimed.
Allegra’s expression remained stoic. “You heard me. You’re going to the debutante ball, and you’re going to represent this family with the poise and grace it deserves.”
Elisê felt a knot form in her stomach. The debutante ball was the last thing she ever wanted to attend. It was a world of shallow smiles, forced conversations, and a never-ending parade of judgmental eyes. But she knew better than to argue with her mother when she had that look in her eye. Instead, she retreated to her room, the garish fabrics of the clothes brushing against her skin like a warning of the torture to come.
The hours dragged on as she went through the motions of transforming herself into a creature of high society. The hair dye burned and the styling left her locks feeling foreign, a lifeless blonde shell of their former self. The clothes felt like a costume, too tight and uncomfortable, the vibrant colors seemingly mocking her usual attire of blacks and greys. She looked in the mirror, not recognizing herself.
Elisê took a deep breath and tried to convince herself that this was just an act, a temporary role she had to play. She slipped on the painfully uncomfortable high heels and walked out to face her mother’s inspection. Allegra’s eyes lit up with approval, and for a brief moment, Elisê felt a twinge of victory. If playing along was what it took to keep the peace and get through the summer, so be it.
The debutante ball would be at the end of the summer. Elisê remembered that from her mother forcing her to sit through them when she was forced to spend time with her mother. And even though Elisê was not looking forward to it, she knew she’d have to force a smile and be respectful, even if it was just for the night.
The weeks leading up to the ball were a blur of etiquette lessons and social events, each more soul-crushing than the last. Her mother’s friends would often look at her with a mix of pity and contempt, whispering about her behind her back, probably about how she didn’t fit in with their perfect little world. But she kept her head high and endured, counting down the days until she could leave for college.
Elisê’s relationship with her mother grew more strained with every passing day. Allegra’s relentless pushing of her own ideals onto her daughter only made Elisê more determined to cling to her goth identity. In secret, she’d put her black lipstick and eyeliner on, feeling a small spark of rebellion that kept her going. But she’d always wipe it off before her mother saw her.
One evening, as she was getting ready for yet another tedious dinner party, she heard a knock on the door. It was the mailman, delivering a mysterious package addressed to her. Excitedly, she opened it to find a stunningly beautiful black dress, the fabric shimmering with dark gems. It was a stark contrast to the pastel hell her mother had imposed on her. The note read, “For the ball. A gift from a friend who believes in you. -D.”
Elisê was touched by the anonymous gesture, feeling a glimmer of hope. This dress was a silent declaration of support, a nod to her true self in a world that sought to suffocate it. She decided to keep it a secret from Allegra, knowing that it would only lead to another battle she wasn’t ready to fight.
The weeks leading up to the debutante ball were a mix of excitement and dread for Elisê. Each evening she would sneak into her closet, running her fingers over the velvety fabric of the black dress, imagining the look of shock and confusion on her mother’s face when she arrived in something other than the typical pastel confectionery. The anticipation grew as the event grew closer, and she felt a strange sense of power in her secret.
The night of the ball arrived and Elisê was ready to put on a show. Her escort was surprisingly agreeable about the dress and the idea Elisê had come up with to show her style and personality over with her mother and the other ladies of high society believe and loved.
Elisê made it to the dressing room without problems, even telling her mother she could dress herself with no issues, and went about making some calming tea for the other debutante girls. Little did any of them know, but Elisê spiked the tea with a small dose of melatonin, enough to knock the girls out for a few hours but not overly harm them. Once the girls had drained their cups and melatonin kicked in, Elisê and her escort, Hans, got to work.
They plugged in pairs of clippers and made quick work of the perfectly styled hair of the debutante girls. Giving each of them different punk hairstyles like Mohawk, Chelsea cuts, mullets, skullets, and even a few girls got monk bowlcuts.
Finally it was Elisê turn to go under the clippers. Hans positioned himself behind her, comb and clippers ready, and slide the comb into the front of her blonde hair. Once he was sure he was the comb positioned right, Hans ran the clippers over top the comb and they both watched 3ft of hair fall to the ground.
Elisê was excited thay she was doing something to prove herself and destroy the image of the debutante in one go. She also really enjoyed the clippers buzzing across her head as Hans continued to buzz her hair on the top of her head to a 1/4th of an inch. With each pass across the comb and the fall of more blonde hair, Elisê got even more excited at the outcome.
Once the top was a fourth of an inch long, Hans tilted Elisê head forward and ran the bare clippers up the back of her head and over her crown, stopping before the mid-scalp region. He made more passes like this until the back was a blonde stubble, before tlting her head to one side and removing the hair from there. Once that side was done, he switched to the other. By the time he was done, Elisê figured the other girls might be waking up, so quickly had Hans help her get rid of all the hair.
Once the had cleaned up all the hair, Hans disappeared with the clippers, and Elisê positioned herself to make it look like she. Like the other girls, had been knocked our.
The pandemonium that ensured when all the girls work up was by far the best thing Elisê had ever witnessed. Mothers rushed to see what was the issue, only to find their daughters’ looking horrible and the debutante image ruined.
Allegra found Elisê and noted how she seemed to be shocked, even if she didn’t knowledge her daughter was faking it, and placed a hand on her shoulder. “What happened?” Allegra asked Elisê softly.
“I don’t know. I wanted to be helpful and help the girls calm down abit, so I passed out tea. We finished the tea and then next thing I know we’re all waking up and looking like this.” Elisê explained, still acting in shock.
Allegra looked at her with a mix of horror and disbelief. “Who did this?” she demanded, her voice shaking.
Elisê played the part perfectly, her eyes wide and innocent. “I don’t know, I just woke up like this. It must’ve been an attack on the whole debutante!” she exclaimed, her voice rising in feigned panic.
The room was in chaos, with mothers clutching their daughters’ shorn heads, their screams piercing the once-elegant air of the dressing room. The event planners and organizers rushed in, trying to contain the scene. Allegra was at a loss for words, her hand hovering over Elisê’s new haircut, a mix of anger and despair painting her face.
“I’m sorry to say this. But either we cancel and refund, or all you girls need to get dress and ready for your walk.” An event planner shouted over the chaos.
Elisê could see the fury in her mother’s eyes. She knew Allegra was trying to piece together what had happened, the reality of the situation dawning on her. The event was ruined. The debutantes looked like a bunch of misfits. But the show had to go on.
With a deep breath, Allegra composed herself and announced to the room, “Girls, we cannot let this ruin your night. We will make do with what we have.” She turned to the makeup artists and stylists, who had been frozen in shock. “Fix them up as best as you can, even if all their hair has to be buzzed off to look presentable. We’re going out there.”
The room was a flurry of activity as the professionals rushed to salvage what they could. The sounds of clippers buzzing and hair falling to the floor filled the air. Despite the chaos, Elisê couldn’t help but feel a smug satisfaction at the sight of her mother’s horror.
One of the stylist made her way over to Elisê and asked if she needed anything done. To which Elisê nodded and asked the stylist to shave the areas of blonde stubble smooth for her. The stylist nodded and did so, leaving Elisê with a 1/4th flattop haircut with the back, crown, and sides shaved smooth to her scalp.
As the stylist worked, Elisê couldn’t help but feel a thrill of excitement and anticipation. She had never felt so in control of a situation in her mother’s world, and she was eager to see how it would unfold.
When the stylist finished, Allegra’s eyes widened in horror at the sight of her daughter’s smooth scalp and 1/4th flattop. “Why you have those areas shaved smooth?” she whispered, her voice trembling.
“I didn’t like the feel of the stubble and it looks better this way.” Was all Elisê said as she got up and got into her dress. Once the dress was on, she did a bit of make-up to emphasize her new haircut.
Her mother was still in shock, but there was nothing she could do now. The event was already a disaster, and arguing with her daughter would only add to the drama.
The debutantes made their way to the ballroom, their heads a series of shaved buzzcuts and their spirits as deflated as their hairstyles. The room fell silent as the crowd took in the spectacle before them. The once-glamorous debutantes now resembled a squad of military cadets who had crashed a high society gala.
Elisê stepped forward, her heart racing with a mix of fear and exhilaration. She could feel the weight of her mother’s glare, but she held her head high. The dress she wore was a declaration of war, a symbol of her rebellion against the oppressive world Allegra had tried to shove her into.
As the debutantes lined up for their grand entrance, Allegra approached the event organizer, whispering frantically into their ear. The organizer nodded and announced that there had been an unfortunate hair styling mishap, asking the audience to be understanding and focus on the grace and poise of the young women as they walked.
The music started and the debutantes began their procession. Each step that Elisê took sent a wave of cold fear through her, but she reminded herself that she had nothing to be ashamed of. She was being true to herself and standing up to the oppressive expectations of high society.
The crowd murmured as she walked down the aisle, the shimmering black dress a stark contrast to the sea of pastel nightmares. Her mother’s friends shot her looks of disdain, but she ignored them. All that mattered was that she had turned the evening into something she could be proud of, something that was truly hers.
As the debutantes made their way to their seats, the whispers grew louder. Allegra sat stiffly, her eyes never leaving her daughter. The anger in her gaze was palpable, but Elisê felt a sense of freedom she hadn’t experienced in years.
As the night went on, more and more people came by to apologize to Allegra for the ruined ball and Elisê, though the girl herself didn’t even mind the attention. She had learned over the weeks that Hans was going to be at the same college she was going to be at. It made her happy she’d know someone there, and there was a plus for her recent discovery. Hans had a fetish for shorn girls, especially loving girls with military flattop.
The two had hit it off right away and had been planning this event together since the start of summer. The gossip spread like wildfire, the whispers growing louder and more pointed as the evening progressed. The debutante’s parents were livid, their daughters’ reputations in tatters.
But as the anger grew, so did the whispers of admiration. Some of the more rebellious teens in attendance couldn’t help but stare at the shaved heads in envy, wishing they had the guts to make such a bold statement. The event was now the talk of the town, not for the elegance and sophistication it usually brought, but for the shocking transformation of its debutantes. The newspapers did a front page story about the ruined ball and the shorn debutants.
Elisê felt a strange sense of power and liberation as she moved through the crowd, her head held high. Her mother’s attempts to control her had backfired in the most public way possible, and she reveled in the knowledge that she had, in her own small way, struck a blow against the stifling norms that had ruled her life for so long.
The next week after the ball, seen Elisê and Hans packing up his car with their stuff and heading off to a college on the other side of the country, wells away from their overbearing and annoying mothers.
