Sine Nomine
Hey guys! This is a sequel to my only other story here, the very well-received Rapunzel No More. For those who haven’t already, please read the original here to get caught up: https://www.hairstorynetwork.com/stories/rapunzel-no-more/
Full disclosure: a sequel was not initially the plan for this story, but by the time I finished the first part, I felt so bad for Emily that I wanted to try and give her a happy ending while also keeping a sense of reality and putting a new angle on the tale, hence why this second part is in the perspective of her best friend, Laura. I hope you enjoy it as much as you did the first part, to which I say thank you all so, SO much for the positive feedback! Who knows, I may never have finished the story without it. Let me know what you think of part 2 in the reviews here!
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Laura Moskal strode down the hallways of her university’s student center wearing a beautiful white floral print dress that hugged her body at every curve and ended right at her knees. She checked her makeup in a small compact mirror, and pursed her lips clad in ruby lipstick for an air kiss toward her reflection before placing it back in her purse. She felt so confident about her looks and how the night would go for herself, blissfully unaware of the trauma her best friend experienced since their chance meeting earlier.
Her confidence was warranted though, because she was a very pretty college senior. She had a fair skin complexion, an inviting smile with cute dimples and beautiful hazel eyes but what she loved the most about herself was her hair. It fell all the way down to her tailbone in a straight, sleek cascade and was a ravishing chestnut brown color shot through with copper highlights. She loved the comfort the length gave her when she walked and studied, loved running her fingers through it when she was stuck on a question during a test, and the empowering feeling she had when the wind blew through it, allowing her locks to fly backwards in a brunette storm that shimmered softly and beautifully in the sun. It was her best friend Emily Weiland that inspired her to take her mane on a journey away from just above her shoulders toward very long hair, as she had grown her own soft, magnificent locks all the way down to her knees from adolescence to now, their final year in college together.
She had been eager to see the magic of the blowout Emily had received for herself, only for her face to fall into concern when she entered the ballroom for the art department’s mid-semester soiree and saw a multitude of partygoers, her many peers and even some faculty, but her best friend was nowhere to be seen.
No Emily. . .? Laura thought to herself. She can’t be hard to spot. . .
So she scanned the ballroom for a brilliant blonde curtain of hair flying amongst the crowd for a good ten minutes. . .but Emily was indeed nowhere to be found. Weird, she thought, before pulling her phone from her purse and typing, I’m here, where are you?, which she immediately sent via text message. Laura was sure Emily wouldn’t mind if she started partying without her, so she was quick to stride toward the bar for a drink to officially get her night started, with her silken brown blanket flying behind her.
Later, after a round of dancing, Laura was in a nearby hallway chatting with friends until she suddenly received a text from Emily, and her face fell into a look of concern upon scanning the message, which read:
help me
Laura strode away from her circle, apologizing before moving to a quieter part of the ballroom and calling Emily.
One dial tone, nothing.
Two dial tones, nothing.
Three dial tones, nothing.
A fourth dial tone–thank God, an answer, she thought. However, the other end of her phone was mysteriously silent, apart from a thin layer of white noise.
“Hello……? Em, are you there??? Are you okay????” Laura asked, her voice getting louder and more fearful with every question.
“Help me, Laura……….help………”
“With what? What’s wrong???” she wondered, as she paced the floor, eyes trembling with worry.
“It’s gone……….Laur, it’s……..it’s all gone……”
“What are you talking about????” Laura queried, but she stopped in her tracks as the voice on the other end of her phone broke down into sobbing.
“I’m coming over.”
Laura hung up her phone and apologized to her friends before rushing to her car, saying something had come up. She hated to leave the party early but didn’t want to raise a proverbial alarm without knowing what was going on. But Emily sounded so distressed and sad over the phone….what could have happened, she wondered? Was she robbed? Was she attacked? Oh God…..her mind was racing about all the possibilities for her entire drive to Emily’s apartment.
She briskly strode out of her car toward Emily’s apartment, her shining, golden brown locks fluttering on her shoulders and against her back with every step. It provided much needed comfort for Laura in times like these when her concern was most palpable, like a weighty reassurance that everything would be alright. Laura strode her way up the stairs of her best friend’s building, and knocked on her apartment’s door once she finally reached it.
“Emily???” Laura asked, to no answer. “Emily, it’s Laura!!!”
Laura knocked louder on the door once more to no answer, so she turned the doorknob in a desperation maneuver only to discover Emily had left her door unlocked. Her best friend opened the door, letting the light of the breezeway illuminate a thin path through Emily’s apartment.
“Emily. . .?” Laura called out. “. . .where are you. . .?”
Laura scanned the desolate living room not hearing a sound before closing the door behind her, plunging the apartment into darkness.
“Emily, please…..”
Laura just stood there, waiting in the dark for one sign, any sign. . .which came with the faintest whimper, followed by a quiet blubber of one word…
“Laur…”
Laura gasped upon hearing her nickname, and slowly stepped down a hallway, past the photos of Emily from years gone by which chronicled her remarkable journey toward becoming a real life Rapunzel. Laura heard Emily’s sniffling and sobbing grow louder and louder with every step she took until she entered her master bedroom, which was illuminated only by a small reading lamp on her headboard. Laura stepped closer toward the bed, only to feel her foot step on what sounded like paper. She turned down to see not only one of Emily’s sketchbooks on the ground, but also the floor around the bed was strewn with miscellaneous schoolwork, art sketches, and hair cosmetics that had been seemingly thrown from the bathroom. Laura looked up from the floor to see Emily’s figure laying on her bed, still fully clothed in the beautiful black satin dress she saw her in just hours ago, and her head mysteriously covered by a pillow drenched in several wet patches. . .she had been crying.
“Emily. . .what’s going on….?” Laura asked with concern as she rested her hand on Emily’s back.
Emily’s body appeared to tense at her best friend’s touch, only to relax and settle so she could let out a few more heavy sobs, muffled by the pillow above her.
“…..the worst moment, Laura….” Emily sniveled.
“…what?” was all Laura asked before Emily pulled her arms out from underneath the pillow.
“I lost everything…..” she added, before shoving the pillow off her bed, and revealing to Laura the circumstances of her tragedy.
Her best friend gasped, covering her mouth at the sight. Mere hours ago, Laura had ran her fingers down Emily’s healthy head of lush, wavy and golden knee-length locks, but now Emily sat before her with puffy eyes red from crying, her face white and devoid of makeup, and a completely bald head formerly adorned by four feet of the most beautiful hair on Earth. Her smooth, barren scalp shone a blinding but brilliant white color in the single light above her bed, but for Laura, it just wasn’t natural to see Emily this dispirited, this despondent, or without the glow and radiance of her soft, silken mane.
“What happened?!?!” Laura exclaimed, eyes wide in disbelief. “Your beautiful hair. . .”
“M-m-m-my stylist. . .” stuttered Emily. “. . .I f-f-fell asleep and. . .and sh-sh-she stole it, Laur…she took–took it all—”
Emily completely burst into fresh tears, just in time for Laura to catch her in her arms. She held her without saying a word, letting her wail into her shoulder while she ran a hand down her back in a comforting gesture. She hated to see her best friend this distraught.
“It’s alright, Em. . .I’m here for you. . .” Laura assured, caressing her back over and over while tears of her own began to obscure her vision, yet they also seemed to make her hazel eyes lighten and sparkle in the headlamp’s fluorescence. She gently led her broken friend back onto the bed, where Emily continued to mourn her loss into her shoulder. Her dress may have been getting drenched in tears, but it was a small price to pay so she could be there for Emily. They just laid there on the bed for hours, with Laura listening to Emily recount her hair appointment from hell, Brooke’s methods of lulling her to sleep, and of course the horrible destruction of her crowning glory in excruciating detail. Emily had to pause several times throughout her story to cry, but with genuine patience and empathy, Laura listened to every word, and wiped the tears that rolled down Emily’s cheeks throughout her delays to assure her presence.
Laura’s motherly instincts took hold in moments like these; she had younger siblings when she was growing up and took responsibility for their safety during family vacations or when her parents were away from the house and they needed a babysitter. It instilled a natural compassion for those around her and made her very approachable to others. She devoted a great deal to the happiness of all her closest family and friends, so to hear Emily out made her feel wanted and loved. Emily may have been upset over just hair, but it had been a big, important part of her life for eight years until today, so it was a tragic loss all the same that Emily couldn’t move through alone, and Laura was proud to support her in this time of need.
And yet, the sight of Emily bald and exposed before her brought about a curiosity within Laura, one that compelled her to take her right hand off her back, which was still shaking with her cries. Her hand slowly but surely moved up Emily’s body until it was hovering above her bare nape. “You’re still beautiful, Em. . .I promise. . .” Laura whispered, as she delicately placed her pinkie finger on Emily’s nape, followed by her ring, then the middle, and then finally her pointer. The gentle yet alien feeling sent shivers down Emily’s spine that caused the former Rapunzel to give her head a violent shake, causing Laura to immediately retract her hand. The touch of hands against the bare scalp must still be too much of a shock for her, Laura thought.
So much of one that Emily’s grip on Laura grew not only closer but tighter, which led a faint smell of lavender to dance invisibly around her best friend’s nose. Laura had used her favorite shampoo on her beautiful brown hair tonight, and its lovely fragrance brought back memories of the care she gave to her own locks, which brought fresh, quiet tears to her eyes over the reality that she would never again experience her favorite pleasure.
With that thought, Emily raised her hands off Laura’s body so she could explore her head, sinking her fingers into her best friend’s silken mane of chestnut brown at the back, and gently ran her hands down all two and a half feet of her locks, just like Ryan used to do with her hair when they were dating. Laura understood the gesture as Emily returning the favor of her warmth, which she welcomed with a smile as her eyes drifted shut.
Meanwhile, the former Rapunzel knew it as a coping mechanism; she felt like nothing without her beautiful hair, so treating Laura’s like she would hers made sense to the broken young woman. Laura just laid there with Emily against her body, while Emily had her hands lost in Laura’s thick brown mane, struggling to fall asleep out of restlessness while Laura had drifted off herself. She was too racked by the trauma of her horrific appointment to even think about sleeping, so for hours on end she laid there whimpering over her loss and stroking Laura’s voluminous, beautiful hair over and over again with her hands until she finally fell asleep.
It was only two hours later when Emily awoke to the sight of Laura still embracing her in her sleep. She took notice of her eyes still closed and the sight of her chest rising and falling with every breath, but what hit her hardest was the condition of Laura’s hair – despite keeping it down as she slept, her locks were barely disheveled, and the sunlight coming in from her window brought out every color, from the chestnut hues to her blonde highlights and even shades of copper and crimson. Her best friend truly had the most beautiful bedhead Emily had ever laid eyes on, after her own. If only Brooke hadn’t taken mine away. . .Emily thought, before the sound of Laura’s lips smacking softly caught her attention. Her hazel eyes blinked open, lightening to a more amber color in the morning’s glow.
“Good morning. . .” Laura said, smiling as she rose up to sit on her side of the bed. “How’d you sleep?”
“Terrible. . .” Emily admitted.
Laura smoldered at the response, and tried to comfort her friend by placing a hand on her shoulder.
“You’re still beautiful, Em. . .inside and out.” Laura assured.
“No I’m not. . .” Emily groaned, her voice breaking with the trauma, and building jealousy at the sight before her: Laura had stepped off the bed and draped her hair over one shoulder to gently brush what tangles there were in her soft and spectacular brunette locks. The sight of the bristles threading from underneath Laura’s beautiful hair and down its lush, thick length over and over again made Emily bury her face into her pillow until Laura spoke again.
“It may be hard to accept right now, but you’ll see your beauty in other places with work and time,” Laura tried to comfort, but her efforts, too soon removed from her trauma, were in vain to Emily. When Laura pushed her glistening ocher tresses over her shoulders so they spilt down her back in a spectacular waterfall, the ex-Rapunzel saw the stray strands flying away from the rest of Laura’s mane flutter before her in the sun, causing her heart to sink to the point where she turned to the floor. That’s easy for you to say, Emily thought. You don’t know how this feels.
“Can you do me a favor. . .?” Emily said, to a head turn from Laura.
“What’s that?” she wondered.
“I don’t feel like going to Sociology 203 today. . .” Emily admitted, looking her friend in the eyes. “. . .can you pick up my homework? Just tell them I had an emergency.”
“Sure. . .and then when I come by later, we’ll look up headwraps for you, okay?” Laura suggested, to a nod from Emily.
“We have to, or else mom’s face this weekend is gonna be priceless.” Emily said, dripping with sarcasm.
“She’ll accept you, Em. She has to, she’s your mother!” Laura assured. “The only question is, can you move on from this?”
“I don’t know, Laur. . .” Emily answered, looking down at the floor as if to hide tears welling up in her eyes. She felt an overwhelming mix of sadness, shame, embarrassment, insecurity and regret in this moment. How could I possibly still be beautiful without what defined me in the first place, she thought. How can I live with myself for letting Brooke take away my pride and joy? How can I walk down the sidewalk naked to the world while you still have beautiful hair?
“I know this has been a shock for you. . .but you’re stronger than you think.” Laura said, wrapping Emily in her arms in an embrace. “That will be what defines you.”
“You believe in me more than I do. . .” Emily whispered, returning her friend’s warm hug, and resting her hand in the center of Laura’s lengthy mane. Discreetly, she slowly but surely and repetitively ran her palm down her best friend’s locks, admiring their thickness, volume and fragrance. Emily sighed both in relief and remembrance before Laura finally pulled away, but not without laying her tiny hand onto Emily’s.
“Promise me you’ll hang in there.” she whispered.
“. . .I’ll try. . .” Emily said, quietly, to a sad smile from Laura, who assured her she’d be back later before leaving Emily’s apartment. The former Rapunzel just sat on her bed, sniffling as if to not only keep herself from crying, but also catch a fleeting whiff of Laura’s hair, which smelled of beautiful roses like hers did just 24 hours ago. But a faraway glance in the mirror at a tall girl in a wrinkled black dress topped off with a pale white head devoid of any hair sitting on a huge bed broke the dam holding back Emily’s tears and drove her to collapse onto the bed, looking up at the ceiling in a near fugue state.
She hated the feeling of her pillowcases brushing up against naked skin. She hated feeling so cold and light all the time. And she hated that Brooke was probably driving across the country right now in a blissful reverie taking pride in her theft of her golden locks, while she was laying here depressed, unattractive, and alone. If I hadn’t buried myself in work the night before, I wouldn’t be ugly right now, she thought to herself. I would still be running my fingers through knee-length blonde hair and be the most beautiful girl on campus. Will a headwrap really fill the void left by my most prized possession? Emily wailed to herself before burying her face in a pillow left longing for the one thing that possibly could: her best friend’s own beautiful hair.
Meanwhile, said luxurious mane was receiving precious, mandatory care. Once Laura made it back to her apartment, she had hopped into the bathroom for a quick shower, and was now standing in front of her mirror blow-drying her damp tresses and gently combing through its entire length for good measure with her fingers, from the top of her head and all the way down to the middle of her derriere. The air and heat from Laura’s hair dryer made her locks glisten in the lights, all the while she couldn’t stop worrying about Emily. She hoped that she wouldn’t do anything drastic to herself while she was gone. It was such a shame what happened to her, though, she thought. Losing hair as long and thick as hers was. . .I would feel just like her if I. . .
Suddenly, Laura froze her comb in the dead center of her hair. What IF I lost my hair, she wondered. What is it about being bald that’s so sickening? Does Emily miss her hair that much? What does it feel like. . .? What does it look like . . . ?
Laura slowly rested her comb on the counter and brought both her hands up to the top of her head. She pulled her hair very, very tight against her head, covering it with her palms and leaning forward, trying to imagine herself devoid of hair, only to snap back to reality by an alarm on her phone.
“Crap!! I’m gonna be late!!” she exclaimed, rushing to brush her teeth and get dressed for the morning before flying out of her apartment at breakneck speed. Despite the little time she had, Laura still looked pretty for the day: she wore tight blue jeans and a white tank top, which allowed her thick, brunette hair to keep her neck and shoulders warm throughout the humidity-free day. She appreciated the comfort its slight, gentle caress gave her as she walked, as every shade of brown could be spotted in the light of the midday sun, and even in the fluorescent lights of her lecture hall. Laura entered the classroom and saw Ryan, her friend and Emily’s love interest, sitting in the near-back of the hall on the opposite side. With the events of last night still fresh in her mind and knowing he and Emily were currently broken up, the last thing she wanted to do was confront him. To make sure Ryan didn’t see her, Laura briskly took a seat in the back of the class and draped her hair over both her shoulders, her hazel eyes occasionally peering at him over her sleek torrent of brunette locks.
She thought her tresses proved to be efficient at concealing her, as Ryan never moved next to her as he often did. Laura’s confidence proved to be wishful thinking, however, for as soon as she stepped outside, she heard the voice of Ryan exclaim, “Hey, Laura!!”
“Ryan!!” she exclaimed, turning around with a forced, but welcoming smile. “What’s up?”
“Nothing, just heading to the gym.” Ryan said. “What happened to you last night? I wanted to talk but you were in a rush.”
“Oh. . .um, yeah…everything’s fine. . .” Laura said, brushing a swath of brown hair behind her ear. “. . .with me, anyway. . .”
“What about Emily?” Ryan wondered. “Did you get a hold of her?”
“She. . .uh. . .she needed a friend.”
“Should I go see her?” Ryan asked, to a start from Laura.
“NO!!” she piped up, to follow it up with a quieter refusal. “No . . . she’s going home this weekend and needs time to pack.”
“Oh, so it’s a family thing.” Ryan assumed.
“Yeeeeaaaah….” Laura said, brushing her hair behind her ear again, in a nervous habit. She really hated to lie to Ryan, but given how on-again, off-again his relationship with Emily had been, it was better to be safe than sorry. “…why do you ask?”
“Well, the truth is. . .I want to get back together.” Ryan responded, before sighing. “I just want a chance to show that I care about her. Her hair may be beautiful, but not as much as her. She’s inquisitive, she’s positive, and very creative. . .I just never had the chance to tell her all this because she never slows down.” Ryan admitted. “Em’s always so focused on her work and making everything perfect that she doesn’t let anyone in, you know?”
Laura nodded, brushing her hair behind her ear for a third time. “Yeah. . .until she needs it most, I guess. . .”
“Well, give her my best, okay? And tell her I miss her.” Ryan said, to a nod from Laura.
“I will!” she said, before the two went their separate ways, with Laura’s beautiful locks having the opportunity to glow in the setting late afternoon sun. Its shimmering rays brought out the bright shades of brown as they traveled down the entire length of her hair, and its unique shine would last all the way up to the evening, when she came back to Emily’s apartment with an assortment of hats, headwraps and a large makeup tray with the intention of sending Emily on her trip home with a new look, one that accentuates the beauty of her face while showing off her artistic side. After another night where Laura stayed over at Emily’s to provide necessary comfort, she was applying a generous amount of makeup to Emily’s eyes the morning of her train ride home.
“….how was Sociology today?” Emily wondered, her eyes closed and diverted toward the floor.
“Just fine.” Laura said, “We have a quiz on the Tuesday after break and have to read Chapter 8 in time for it.”
“Great….” Emily groaned, as she took in the feeling of the makeup brush against her eyelids. It swirled back and forth in a circle in the same spot for a few seconds before eventually spreading toward its outer edges and then finally leaving her orb in a sensation that was quite strange.
“By the way, I saw Ryan yesterday. . .” Laura mentioned.
“Oh boy, what’d he say?” Emily wondered.
“He said he missed you at the soiree.” Laura informed, before replacing the makeup brush in her right hand with a lipstick brush. She dipped it in the container holding ruby red lipstick before brushing it against Emily’s lips with careful precision. “And he misses you in general.”
“Sure he does…” Emily quipped bitterly. To take her mind off her cynicism, Emily distracted herself by eyeing the constant glow of the lights in her artist’s hair. She scanned the entire length of Laura’s locks from root to tip in stoic awe and sadness. Despite its center parting, Laura’s brown hair still fell past her shoulders and obscured her vision whenever she leaned forward, and Laura had to shake them away quite often, after which they always came to a natural rest against her back. Within Emily, these brought back memories of her own golden hair, all the times it drifted around her right shoulder when she was turning a corner in the library, spilling past her shoulders when she accidentally dropped a book, kneeling down to pick it up, upon which the excess length spread across the floor. . .
“Nonsense! He had a lot he wanted to say to you.” Laura suddenly said, bringing Emily back to reality and then some by pulling out a long red headwrap.
“He wouldn’t have gotten to. . .” Emily mumbled. “. . .you know I did some Googling today and it said hair starts growing back immediately? So where’s the stubble?’
“It’ll come when it does, Em.” Laura soothed. “Please…focus on the present.”
“How? I’m nothing without my hair, Laur.” Emily stated. “It was my identity! My pride and joy!”
“I know, I know. But you are not your hair,” Laura comforted, pulling out one of the two scarves she purchased. “You still have your health, your work, your art. . .and your whole life ahead of you. Focus on one or all of those things, and you’ll eventually feel complete.”
At that piece of advice, Emily froze at the sudden feeling of her headwrap’s soft cloth hitting her bare scalp. She gasped briefly at the alien touch to the point where her eyes shot open and almost ruined her eyeshadow. It brought back memories of the horrifying graze of Brooke’s microfiber towel against her scalp when she polished it, as well as the raspy sounds and rough scraping of metal blades against her head when her stylist from hell tore the last traces of her former glory away. Recalling those moments brought tears to Emily’s eyes, but they quickly dissipated with every slow, gentle stroke of comforting fabric against her paté. It caressed her virgin skin upon making immediate contact and brushed against her sensitive scalp with every which way Laura wrapped the scarf around her skull, until she tied a fashionable knot on the top that tightened Emily’s new headpiece into place. For Emily, the present moment was. . .weird, uncomfortable, but also new. She had no choice but to take a step forward.
“Okay, Emily. . .” Laura said, in proud confidence. “. . .open your eyes.”
The former Rapunzel opened her eyes and gasped, standing up out of her chair in happy shock at what she saw looking back at her in the full-size mirror.
Laura had instructed she wear a sleeveless, wide-legged red jumpsuit, and it matched the red and maroon vibrancy of her headwrap beautifully; while the black eyeshadow and red lipstick drew attention to every inch of her smiling face, from her sparkling blue eyes to her small but striking lips. Emily twirled around and stopped in a girlish pose, amazed by her slender figure and how she stood out amongst her surroundings. If she wore a red veil over her mouth at this moment, Emily would have been mistaken for a Moroccan desert mystic. The outfit was outlandish, but it matched her eccentric passion for art, and made her feel like a new person.
“Oh my GOD!!! Laura, I love it!!!!” Emily exclaimed, before hugging her friend. “Thank you so much!!!”
“You’re so welcome, Em…” Laura said, hugging Emily back with a smile, closing her eyes in contentment. She loved to see her best friend so happy after days of intense sadness, loved to see Emily ready to take on the day and show off her new look to the world, and loved feeling her small hands drift through her golden brown hair from her shoulders all the way to the tips–wait a minute, Laura thought, is that what’s she doing?!
Indeed, Emily was happy as a clam for the first time this week, but she was running one of her palms down the entire length of her beautiful brown hair in a smoothing, comforting motion, while the other set of fingers had sunk into her locks and were gently stroking them from her crown all the way to the perfectly even ends at the middle of her rump. Emily repeated this gesture over and over, comforting Laura who indeed loved the attention…but it went on for way longer than it should, to the point where Laura could hear Emily choke back a quiet sob.
Still missing her mane….Laura thought to herself in solemnity, before her curiosity from earlier was piqued. She couldn’t imagine herself with no hair on her head. . .so she wanted to peek at Emily’s. As Emily continued to slide her delicate fingers through her best friend’s lush blanket of brown silk, Laura did her own perusing. Her tiny hand slowly but surely moved up the dress on Emily’s back, then her neck, all the way up to the headscarf adorning her knob. . .but a more audible sob from her friend spooked Laura into retracting her curious fingers back to her sides.
“Em…..what does it feel like?” Laura wondered.
“What?”
“….being bald?” she added, to a sad sigh from Emily, whose hands and fingers began stroking and combing her best friend’s chestnut silk at a faster pace.
“It’s light and cold all the time….” Emily admitted, as her eyes gandered down all two and a half feet of Laura’s luscious locks, watching their color morph from golden brown to a slight chestnut hue when the sun disappeared behind a cloud. “..like you’re naked to the entire world. And water slides right into your eyes in the shower. So yeah, I don’t recommend Original Designers.”
Laura chuckled, before opening her eyes wide in uneasy surprise because Emily was still sliding her fingers down her beautiful cascade of straight chestnut silk, even after they had been standing there for five minutes uninterrupted. Laura enjoyed the feeling of Emily doting on her hair, but this bordered more on grief-stricken fetishism. I get that she misses her hair, but I have class soon and she has a train to catch, she thought to herself. How do I handle this?
“Oh, Em! I almost forgot!” Laura suddenly informed as she let go of Emily, who was slow to break out of her reverie. “Let me show you how to wear this headwrap so it mimics a longer hair length….”
After a quick demonstration, Emily left her apartment wearing her red and maroon headwrap in a low ponytail that ended at her bra-strap. It didn’t come close to replicating the ravishing glory of the knee-length gold she possessed mere days ago, but it filled enough of the void for Emily to deal with over her weekend at home.
For Laura, the weekend and the Spring Break that followed went uneventfully. . .save for a barrage of text messages she got daily from Emily. She informed Laura that her parents and siblings were shocked to see Emily step off the train with her head covered by a scarf instead of her knee-length mane. After Emily told them the story of her terrible ordeal, her family aimed to pursue legal action against Original Designers for their negligence and the emotional distress Emily went through during and after her ill-fated appointment, which only added more anxiety and stress to the ex-Rapunzel. What made matters worse was the fact she was behind on her thesis project meant to be a Van Gogh-inspired self portrait about the life stories someone’s hair can tell, but the grief and sadness over the loss of her locks was so much to bear, that she had called her academic advisor and told him she may need an extension into the summer.
Emily also kept Laura up to date about her hair growth. . .or lack thereof. Every day Emily texted Laura with disappointment that not a single grain of stubble had formed on her head. It was Emily’s understanding that the average hair growth was ½ an inch a month, but by the time she returned to campus almost two weeks later, there still wasn’t a trace or shadow of golden stubble on her head. Laura asked if there was anything specific Brooke used on her that was out of the ordinary, and after hearing Emily describe her process in horrid detail, she deduced that the lotion Brooke had used to polish her head contained a concoction of substances that burned out the follicles under her skin, meaning more time was needed for new locks to grow from nothing. Emily was totaled to the point of sobbing, and it took an entire late night on the phone with Laura for her to calm down, and softly cry herself to sleep.
At this point, Laura was feeling her own set of stress; as soon as she heard the chord sound effect from her iPhone, she had to drop everything to offer her virtual shoulder to cry on and provide comfort. It was a job she had the empathy required to do, but even she couldn’t be there for her all the time, as she had her own schoolwork to worry about and was concerned about falling behind. It was her senior year as well as Emily’s, and all four classes in her business major this semester were harder than she expected. The pressures she felt both internally to succeed and externally from Emily were taking their toll; she wasn’t getting any sleep, she was struggling to focus on her schoolwork, and only had time to do the bare minimum of care for her chestnut mane; electing to save time by wearing it in a ponytail or a bun throughout the week.
By the time she woke up in the morning the first Tuesday after Spring Break, Laura was the groggiest she had ever been. She didn’t go anywhere during vacation; she spent every waking hour in her apartment catching up on all her schoolwork and final projects, and had pulled late night after late night to get everything done. Laura groaned as her attention turned toward her long brown hair, which laid flat, dirty and lifeless around her body in an unkempt, tangled mess devoid of sheen. She hadn’t washed it in a week, but the last thing she wanted to do at that moment was get out of bed. Just five minutes more. . .Laura thought to herself. . .
. . .until her cell phone rang. Laura moaned upon lifting it up and reading ‘Emily’ on its Caller ID. Reluctantly, she answered her phone and rolled on her back, shoving her long but lifeless mane out from underneath her to hang over the edge of her bed.
“What’s up, Emily?” mumbled Laura.
“Hey. . .are you going to Sociology today. . .?” Emily asked.
“Kinda have to, Em … .we have a quiz today.” Laura responded. “Why?”
“It’s just. . .I’m nervous.” admitted Emily. “Ryan’s gonna be there, and–”
“Ryan won’t care, Em!” Laura stated. “I’ve told you exactly what he told me: he loves you for you.”
“But what if you’re wrong??” Emily worried, “He’s never known me without my hair!”
“Then. . .I’ll make it up to you.”
“What???”
“I need to get ready, Emily! I’ll see you there!!” Laura retorted, hanging up her phone and glancing at the clock.
Shit….she thought. Class is in three hours. It would take her an hour and a half to shower if she washed and dried her hair, then 30 minutes to get her usual coffee and bagel breakfast at her favorite cafe, then she had to turn something in before Sociology 203. . .well, the day has to start sometime, she surmised, before staggering out of bed and lumbering into the bathroom.
The cold shower Laura took ended up refreshing her mind and body quite well, thankfully, and she went the extra mile to shampoo and condition her hair not once or twice, but three times since it was long overdue for some much-needed care, the effects of which couldn’t be seen until she had stepped out of the shower and dried herself off, finishing by towel-drying her chestnut mane. Then she plugged in her hair dryer and grimaced with forced patience as she watched her golden brown locks morph from sopping wet and stringy to dry, luscious and shining while they lifted higher and higher in her favorite tool’s current, eventually flying over her right shoulder in a beautiful flow of brown and gold that shifted to a darker chestnut hue further down her back, as her lower lengths weren’t hitting the fluorescent light of her bathroom.
Laura elected to drape her entire mane forward past the opposite shoulder and blasted it with more air and heat while gently combing through it with patient care, all the while she grew more anxious for the possibilities of the day that lay ahead. Today was the first day that she, Emily and Ryan would all be in the same classroom together for the first time since before the soiree, hence before Emily had all four feet of her golden crowning glory cruelly shorn away and left to cover a salon floor. Ryan said to her over a week ago he thought Emily was beautiful as a person, but her best friend was right – she couldn’t guarantee that knowing he hadn’t seen her without her hair. What if I’m wrong, Laura wondered. How would I make it up to Emily?
The answer involved what was being delicately and softly smoothed out by the bristles of a fine-toothed comb at that exact moment, and it was there Laura realized what she had to do. . .
. . .at least until her focus turned toward her phone and realizing she lost track of time yet again. The brunette girl swore in anger before shutting off her hair dryer and darting out of her bathroom, her beautiful golden brown storm of butt-length hair flying behind her, like a silent, shining plea for her not to go through with what just crossed her mind.
Laura quickly slipped into a pair of jean shorts and a tight blue t-shirt, pushing her beautiful brown locks out from underneath it so they swirled upwards in a shimmering storm of shining chestnut satin until they naturally rested against her back in a stick-straight cascade. All the care Laura put into her hair this morning made it look so ravishing, so soft to the touch that nobody would ever be aware that for the past week and a half it had been neglected to the point of dishevelment…or that its wearer just had the thought of buzzing it down to nothing.
But Laura had buried that idea underneath a myriad of orders inside her head telling her to get to campus, and the brunette girl was doing just that. Within the hour, she had left her apartment, picked up breakfast, turned in her paper for a business class, and made it to Gleason Hall, where Emily was playing a game on her cell phone in the same red jumpsuit and headscarf she had dressed her in a week and a half earlier. The former Rapunzel’s nostrils flared up at a vanilla fragrance she had smelt many times before and turned her attention to Laura.
“Hey, Em!” Laura said, smiling with a huff in relief she had made it on time.
“Hey. . .” Emily whispered, immediately opening her arms for an embrace. “I can feel everyone staring at me. . .”
“They’re just noticing your outfit! It’s outlandish, just like you.” Laura whispered back upon accepting her friend’s hug. “You’ve. . .washed all that since I dressed you with it, right?”
“Of course, but there’s been so many double takes! What if they’re silently judging me?” Emily wondered, eyes wide in social anxiety.
“Come on, let’s take our seats….” Laura whispered, breaking away from Emily to usher her inside the classroom with a gentle touch on her back.
“But away from Ryan!” Emily said, to a nod of assurance from Laura.
“Away from Ryan, yes….” Laura assured, her eyes wide in discomfort. Emily was distraught before spring break, but THIS level of manic anxiety from her was enough to make Laura feel perturbed. “Is. . .your family still suing the salon?”
Emily nodded. “They’ve got a lawyer and everything. I spent my break meeting with him and telling my story over and over and over again. I just. . .I just want to forget about it, Laura…”
The former Rapunzel’s voice broke at that last sentence, catching the attention of Ryan, who turned around to see his ex-girlfriend for only a half-second before their professor called for the students’ attention. The rest of the class went by smoothly, although Laura felt sporadic gentle strokes from Emily on her beautiful golden brown hair, hair that was so soft, thick and luscious that it not only covered the entire back of the chair all the way to its base, but also overwhelmed Emily’s vicinity with the smell of the vanilla shampoo she had used on it that morning, doubled by the fruity perfume clouding her body. Laura sighed with a grimace at the touch of Emily’s tiny fingers threading through her locks yet again; what once brought her pleasure was now an annoyance, to the point where she made the reflex of draping her massive mane over one shoulder, blanketing her entire right side to crushed disappointment from Emily.
Once class was dismissed, Laura quickly rushed up from her seat and out of the classroom with Emily following right behind her.
“What was that about?” Emily raised her voice, bringing Laura to face her friend. Her long, brown hair looked so gorgeous in this moment to Emily – stretching nearly to her thighs in several shades of gold, chestnut and crimson in a fall covering the entire right side of her chest, and even half of her shorts. Laura’s locks reminded her so much of her own long hair. . .hair that she wouldn’t see for a decade or longer, if ever again. They had become a binkie for Emily, one that she wanted for herself, but the reality of the situation was just too difficult for her to accept. So Laura had no choice but to give her the sad and harsh, but honest truth.
“Em, I’m sorry, but you NEED to move forward.” Laura insisted.
“I CAN’T live like this!” Emily yelled, drawing attention to herself and Laura from the students passing them by as she pointed at her headwrap. “It isn’t the same!”
“I did the best I could!!” Laura implored. “And the best you can do is adjust to the new normal and focus on what you DO have.”
“YOU DON’T KNOW HOW THIS FEELS!!!” Emily shouted–
“–how what feels?”
Emily gasped and turned around to see Ryan standing right behind her.
“RYAN!!!” Emily exclaimed. “I–I–!”
“What’s going on with you?” he wondered. “What’s with the turban?”
“It–it’s not—”
Ryan held his hand out. “Just slow down and talk to me. . .”
“LEAVE ME ALONE!!!” Emily spat, before running forward in an unpredictable fervor, not even thinking about Laura standing right next to her. The two friends collided and fell to the hallway floor, with several students backing up to give Laura and Emily space. Laura’s backpack had thankfully kept her head from hitting the floor, while her long, luxurious brown mane had spread around her head and surrounded it like a shining, silken carpet. Laura grimaced from the pain of her fall as she pulled herself back up to her knees, but gasped in compassioned shock when she saw that Emily’s headscarf had fallen off.
Several students watching the scuffle or in the vicinity of their scuffle gasped in shock upon seeing Emily’s smooth bald head. The woman they once recognized as ‘the girl with long hair’, the art school’s real-life Rapunzel, and the girl with arguably the longest hair in the region was now kneeling before them without a trace or shadow of hair on her head, only a barren scalp that had faded from white skin to pink after days of exposure to the sun. Emily wailed in horror as she tried to tie her headscarf back on, but to no avail. The anxiousness and embarrassment she felt in that moment made her hands violently shake with so much worry that she couldn’t make the proper ties. As Emily struggled to keep herself from falling into hysterics, her face turning bright red in shame, the crowd around her reacted with thankfully mature surprise, although Laura saw select students taking photos of her, and heard comments of different varieties within earshot:
“Woah! Emily, you’re BALD?!?!”
“Are you sick, Emily?”
“I knew that girl was weird, but THIS is something else. . .”
“HAHA! She doesn’t have any hair!!”
“Hey Sinéad! What brings you here?”
“Talk about going from one extreme to the other.”
“Emily. . .what happened?”
That last one came from Ryan’s low, but empathetic and concerned voice. Upon hearing it, all Emily could do was crawl into his open arms and sob into his chest. Tears formed in Laura’s smoldering eyes upon seeing the results of her spat, and she reached toward her best friend in hopes for a reconciliation.
“Emily. . .” Laura said, “I–I’m so sorry. . .let me help y–”
With newfound insecurity, Emily pulled herself out of Ryan’s chest to flash a dirty look at Laura.
“GO AWAY!!! YOU’VE DONE ENOUGH!!!” she yelled, to Laura’s dismay. The brunette girl stood there in silence to process what just happened as Ryan pulled Emily up to her feet and hid her bald head from all the onlookers while they ran down the hallway. Laura’s eyes darted from left to right, wondering if she was too harsh. Emily did need to move on, but the last thing she wanted was for her best friend to be embarrassed like she was, and she had a hand in it. There was only one way to make it up to her . . . and that was to finally understand her pain. With that realization, Laura made a beeline for the hall’s exit door, with her long, beautiful golden brown mane shining and swirling behind her in a voluminous splendor. . .for the final time.
A half-hour later, Laura found herself walking briskly into the Chic Hair Salon. She couldn’t go to just any barbershop; men wouldn’t touch silken hair as long as hers. She didn’t want to go to Original Designers, the last thing she wanted was to get involved in Emily’s legal battle. So she settled on the first salon her eyes had set on and strode toward it after parking her car, trying to commit the feelings of her beautiful thick hair brushing against her arms, keeping her neck warm and shining brilliantly in the sunlight to memory because she didn’t know when or if she would ever feel them again after today.
Laura burst into the salon and charged toward the reception desk.
“Please tell me you take walk-in appointments.” Laura stated, placing her palms on the desk in front of her.
“We do!” said the receptionist. “Just take a seat right over there and someone will be right with you.”
Laura nodded. “Thank you so much….”
With that, the brunette sat in the waiting room for fifteen minutes or so, pulling her heavy brown hair over one shoulder and raking her fingers through it every chance she could, and even twirled a section of it while she was reading an old magazine. She enjoyed the luxury of this habit for as long as she was able to until a petite woman with blonde hair in a spiky pixie cut stepped to her front.
“Excuse me, are you a walk-in looking for an appointment?” wondered the stylist, drawing Laura’s big brown irises up over her magazine and into her black eyes.
“Yes, I am! My name’s Laura,” greeted the brunette, extending her hand.
“And I’m Chloe! Pleased to meet you,” replied Chloe, accepting Laura’s hand for a handshake. “Come on back and we’ll talk shop.”
Laura obliged, standing up from her seat and following Chloe to her station. As the petite blonde made it behind her chair, Laura took her place in the seat and tossed her locks over the back of it. The ends flipped up and all 30 inches of her beautiful hair in every shade of brown flew toward Chloe before falling against the back of the chair and covering it entirely like a thick, chestnut curtain.
“Wow!!!” Chloe interjected, threading one of her hands underneath her hair and running her fingers down all two and a half feet of the soft, voluminous mass. “Your hair is so long!!! It’s. . .it’s beautiful. . .”
“Thanks. . .I’m ready to be rid of it. . .” Laura admitted, to a pause from Chloe.
“Oh, you want to donate it?”
“If you can. . .” Laura requested, “. . .all 30 inches of it.”
Chloe blinked twice. “I–I’m sorry?”
Laura looked up at Chloe’s reflection in the mirror with determination. “I want you to shave my head.”
The stylist stepped backwards, aghast at what she just heard. “Excuse me???”
“Shave my head. All the way. To the skin.” Laura insisted.
“But. . .but why?” Chloe wondered, running a hand down Laura’s silken brown length again. “This is immaculate. You can’t leave with nothing!”
“It’s. . .for a friend.” Laura said, looking at herself in the mirror with tears forming in her eyes.
“Oh. . .does she have cancer?” Chloe asked, to a nod from Laura, who hated to use that as a lie, but it had to be done so she could accomplish her task at hand.
Chloe sighed. “I’m so sorry. . .the customer is always right. . .”
With that, Chloe unfurled a white cape and whirled it over Laura’s front and back in a beautiful flourish. After sealing the velcro at her neck, the stylist pulled out Laura’s hair at her neckline and tossed it all over both her shoulders. The brunette girl gandered down at her lap, admiring the way her beautiful, stick straight locks glimmered in shades of golden brown as well as auburn red in some lighting, while her lush ends rested in her lap. All 30 inches of hair framed her face beautifully on both sides, and even formed a perfect hiding place for her head when she had tilted it down as she did in this moment until Chloe returned to the chair with a set of Oster clippers, which she was quick to turn on with a snap and let their buzzing fill the room.
“Last chance, Laura.” Chloe warned. “Are you sure you don’t want to back out?”
Laura shook her head, the fluorescent lights above her shifting the color and shine of her luscious mane with the slightest motion. That would be the last memory she ever had of her long, beautiful hair.
“No.” Laura assured. “This is for Emily.”
Chloe nodded in understanding before changing her position to Laura’s right. Without warning, she placed the clippers right in front of Laura’s hairline and drove them into her center parting.
As the clippers bit into Laura’s mane, only a few strands of hair first fell past her eyes, quickly followed by a shining, horrible golden brown torrent that only grew more massive the further Chloe pushed the clippers toward the back of her scalp. A pained frown formed on Laura’s face as she watched her transformation with forlorn sadness, coping with the inner helplessness that this was the only way to make things right with Emily. Once the stylist’s clippers finally reached the back of Laura’s hair, she pulled her tool out and used her free hand to push the remaining loose locks down the bald strip at the center of her client’s head, letting them slowly drift down into Laura’s lap with the first casualties.
Chloe wasted no time at all, this time placing her clippers to the right of the bald strip (Laura’s left) and plowing them through another unbelievable bundle of luscious brown locks, sending them to their demise in Laura’s lap. The sheer amount of hair was enough to briefly blind Laura as they covered her right eye if only for a quarter-second, but the girl kept her emotions to herself by keeping her focus on her reflection in the mirror, while Chloe continued her requested destruction of Laura’s beautiful brown mane.
“Can’t go back now,” Chloe commented, to no reaction from Laura. The stylist paid her no mind, before taking another long swipe over her client’s head and causing another luscious stream of tawny, vibrant hair to slide into her lap. The brunette girl glanced down at her thighs and couldn’t believe she had that much hair on just the top left side of her head. Her heart sank as a sunbeam shone through one of the salon’s windows, bringing out the golden brown and auburn highlights in the shorn locks already in her lap. It was a beautiful, yet melancholy sight for the soon to be bald girl, as there would be more of her silken treasure to hit the cape in due time.
One more pass, and the clippers reached Laura’s left temple. After dropping another mass of shorn hair into her client’s lap, she changed her position and gently pushed Laura’s head to lean toward her right shoulder. The movement caused the yet-untouched right side of Laura’s locks to trip against her shoulder and hang down in a spectacular fall. Laura kept her focus on that beautiful sight, trying to commit the way her hair was shining at this moment to memory while her left sideburn was being shaved to the skin.
After Laura felt all the hair in front of her ear separate and float down to the ground, the stylist turned her clippers around her ear, bending down the top for a better view of her weapon’s path. From there, she drove the clippers through her unsuspecting locks, sending them to drift behind Laura’s ear audibly before landing on the floor. Chloe continued behind her ear, following the shape of her head to clear path after path of golden brown silk, sending it toward certain doom.
Once the left side was reduced to stubble, Chloe turned her attention to the back of Laura’s hair at her crown; the thickest part of her scalp. She lifted up a section with one hand, and ran the fingers of her other, free hand down all two and a half feet of its length, admiring the softness and silkiness adorning her client’s head now that she had a free moment to do so. It was spellbindingly luscious hair. . . but the stylist sighed before picking up the clippers once again and continuing her job. She hated the idea of destroying hair this long, thick and soft, but this was what her client wanted. There was nothing she could do.
With that acceptance, she placed the clippers underneath the brown sheet and positioned their blade just below her hairline. Chloe then drove the clippers up her nape, buzzing away at her heavy locks until they reached the top of her crown, then she dropped the lush mass to the ground, where it landed with an audible thud due to its thickness. Laura was just staring straight ahead at her reflection in the mirror, watching in silent sadness as Chloe moved toward the right, raised another heavy chestnut swath, and tore the clippers through it without mercy.
Watching the destruction of her beautiful brown locks was tough for Laura; she could feel her head grow colder and lighter with every pass of the clippers, and sensed her stylist’s touch coming ever closer to her near-bare skin by the way her scalp nerves tingled and lit up every time Chloe’s hand made a move. Laura was trying to keep herself calm with quiet and gentle deep breathing, but after the stylist’s third pass up the back of her head, right when the clippers went over the occipital bone, a shudder wracked through Laura’s body, and her composure showed signs of cracking. Tears formed in her eyes, and her breathing only grew louder, for she wasn’t getting any calmer.
It broke Laura’s heart even more to feel Chloe’s steady hand gently push her head forward until her chin touched her chest, allowing the remaining hair on her crown to fall forward into her vision. The stylist then drove her clippers up the back of Laura’s head, to the right of her occipital bone, and severed another huge golden brown waterfall so it could pool into her lap. Laura just kept her head lowered, staring at the enormous pile of silk in muted terror as it only grew bigger in size with every pass Chloe made with her tool of choice.
Chloe made another pass, and another bundle of chestnut locks caressed Laura’s face on its way down. Laura had closed her eyes to keep her crowning glory from striking her hazel eyes, over which only a few strands of hair were left, cresting the girl’s peripheral vision on her right. But the clippers quickly swiped them away, as well, when the stylist made a flick of her wrist, and the last of the thickest part of her beautiful ochre hair fell away. Laura couldn’t even see the cape at her lap anymore, the thick, luscious mass of severed silk had covered it completely. The girl couldn’t ignore the emotional magnitude of her sacrifice anymore, closing her irises, but not before a tear fell from each of them at the same time.
“Are you okay?” the stylist wondered, to a slow head shake from Laura. With a look of pity on her face, Chloe pulled a couple tissues out of a box at her station and handed them to Laura, who immediately wiped her face.
“I just didn’t think I had so much!” the girl confessed, before a sad chuckle. “It’s so cold…”
“Don’t worry. . .I’m almost done,” Chloe assured, as she changed her position to the girl’s front. With that statement, she placed her hand on the now-naked back of her client’s head. Laura gasped sharply at the bizarre touch. It felt coarse and rough, yet tickled somewhat, while the smallest touch of fingers on the skin underneath the quarter-inch stubble sent unsettling shivers down Laura’s back. But her feelings of devastation were interrupted by more shock when Chloe pulled the clippers back over her head, and sent more impossible amounts of hair into her lap.
Laura’s eyes had widened in disbelief, as the chill in the salon’s air was apparent against the top of her head, as well as her nape and left side. But one more pass of Chloe’s clippers finally and completely denuded the top of her head, sending another shower of light brown hair into the lap of Laura. Chloe then maneuvered herself to Laura’s right and drove the clippers up her sideburn, shaving it completely free of hair before dropping the strands, which shimmered beautifully in the sunlight on their way down to the ground, landing with an audible thump.
The sound was subtle, but loud within the mind of Laura, who had gone back to her deep breathing exercises to try and calm herself. But her head felt so uncomfortably light, and she already had given up so much, all this so her best friend wouldn’t be alone in her suffering and embarrassment. As Chloe turned the clippers around her right lobe and followed the shape of her head, the last remaining sections of hair swished resoundingly past her ear, as if to say a thankful goodbye to the helpless girl. Laura watched on with desolation as she hoped this act would be worth the loss of her soft, silken mane, even when Chloe switched off the clippers.
But the stylist still wasn’t done. She had simply switched and turned on a smaller set of clippers, their buzzing higher in pitch and somehow louder in volume than her previous weapon. Chloe brought them to Laura’s head and drove them down right down the middle of her scalp, following a similar path as when she sentenced the bulk of Laura’s crowning glory down to the ground. Any isolated strands and the quarter-inch stubble on her head was quickly reduced to the smallest possible fraction, amassing itself on Laura’s shoulders, her lap, and the floor with every pass. The girl watched morosely as single, lengthy remnants of her golden brown beauty drifted past her eyes, the light bringing out an ochre glimmer from one lock passing her irises one last time before disappearing into the enormous pile in her lap. The forming tears made her orbs sparkle as the final traces of her locks fell away, and Chloe plunged the salon into silence.
With that, she set the clippers down and took out a contour brush from her apron’s front pocket. She used it to dust off the top of Laura’s head, then her sensitive back and sides before moving to her front. The girl lowered her eyelids and tilted her head forward to meet it as Chloe started clearing Laura’s face of any and all stray hairs that had stuck to her visage, finding herself laughing as the brush’s soft bristles tickled her face and provided an alien touch, yet a comfortable one all the same. Chloe continued to circle the chair, dusting off the top of Laura’s head, followed by her back and sides, as well as her shoulders. Her face was one thing, but the touch of soft horsehair against her bare scalp was such a bizarre, yet soothing feeling, countered only by the sight of tiny brown stubble falling like snowflakes all around her face.
Once Laura’s face, head and shoulders were clean enough for Chloe, she stepped away from the station, leaving her client to stare in disbelief at her reflection in the mirror. Just a half-hour ago, she had stepped into the salon with 30 inches of beautiful hair that changed to a different shade of brown every time she moved, but all she had now was quarter-inch stubble not even trying to hide the pale skin of her scalp. She was turning her head every which way, trying to adjust to her new look, but didn’t have enough time to take it in before Chloe returned to wrap her head in a hot, wet towel. The sensation elicited a gasp from Laura, followed by a pained wince from the cloth’s sudden, near-scalding heat, only to be broken upon the towel’s removal. The cool air blended with the warmth on Laura’s head in a sensation that made her scalp tingle with shock and sent shivers down the girl’s spine.
The experience only felt more foreign and alien for Laura when Chloe started spraying a dollop of shaving cream all over her head. Chloe’s skinny, tender hands spreading its thick, foamy texture across her scalp, her nape, her temples and around her ears sent more chills radiating through Laura’s body, widening her eyes in horror at their sensation. And then came the feeling of a straight razor slightly pressed at the top of her neck, only for Chloe to glide it up her nape, swiping away the shaving cream and the last trace of Laura’s hair underneath it.
The razor’s scraping against her unresisting head brought Laura’s mouth open agape, but produced no sound. She took in the sensation of the blade rendering her head clean and smooth, trembling when it went over the occipital bone before finally reaching the top of her crown. Yet Chloe must have seen more stubble on the path she just shaved, so she turned the razor around, going back over the occipital bone and down toward her neck until the center of her nape was devoid of hair. The sounds of the razor dragging against her stubble followed by the remaining bare skin made Laura feel so cold, so scared, so sick that she closed her eyes, retreating herself mentally toward a time when this experience was never imagined . . .
. . .and that was her senior year in high school, where she and Emily were hanging out in the hallway during their free period. Emily’s beautiful blonde waves were free, straight and ended just past her posterior on this day, while Laura had her chestnut brown hair in a significantly shorter bob, with the tips curled slightly inward so that they brushed against her neck every time she turned her head. After saying hi to their passing friend Heather, the heater on which Emily was sitting flickered on suddenly, and all three feet of her titanic tresses billowed in the heat’s current. The real life Rapunzel couldn’t help but laugh at the sight, while other passers-by were awestruck at the way all the lengthy golden strands flew in a beautiful torrent, while individual locks glistened underneath the fluorescent lights.
“Oh…Emily, let me put that up for you,” Laura suggested, to which Emily happily slipped off the heater and let her friend gander into her luscious mane. The brunette reached into her blonde hair and began threading it into a massive braid.
“Thanks, it’s almost PE class, anyway.” Emily acknowledged, smiling at the feeling of her friend’s tugs and strokes through her prized possession.
“I’m amazed you’ve let your hair get like this. . .” Laura breathed, admiring the thickness of the braid she was forming. “I don’t even know if mine can get that long.”
Oh, but it could.
Oh, but it did.
For the next year, Laura would let her hair grow out of that neck-length bob, and she would squeal with delighted excitement every morning she stood in front of her full body mirror to see its length had reached a new milestone. One morning by the end of her senior year of high school, her locks tickled her shoulders. After her first semester of college almost seven months later, she noticed her hair fell to her bra strap, and then by the end of her freshman year that May, her reflection in the mirror revealed that her hair had become a full, lush mane ending at the small of her back, somehow without ever losing the same thickness it had when short. She chose to keep her hair at the maximum length she wanted to reach, the middle of her derriere, which she did by that summer’s end. Laura knew there was no way she could ever catch up to Emily’s journey toward becoming a living princess, but the two doted over each other’s hair and cared for each other at every turn, whether it was in celebration over a passing grade on a difficult exam, or being the other’s shoulder to cry on after a date gone wrong. They were the best of friends, but despite doing everything she knew she could after Emily lost her pride and joy, the help she had to give wasn’t enough to cure her crisis. That’s why she was here right now, hearing the rasping and razing of Chloe’s blade as it took away the last grain of hair on her head underneath her flashbacks: to make things right.
Laura came back to consciousness after Chloe had made one final swipe down the top and center of her head, moving from crown to front. She could feel her stylist massaging a scented moisturizer into her surely bare scalp with her practiced but caring hands, then rush after rush of air blowing toward her paté as Chloe waved a towel toward her tortured client.
“There,” Chloe said with finality, as she turned the chair around so Laura could face the mirror. “It’s all done.”
With that declaration, the girl wracked with guilt slowly raised her head, opened her eyes, and almost immediately broke down at her reflection. Instead of the long, luxurious mane of beautiful brownish auburn hair she walked into the salon with, the hair with blonde highlights that shimmered with every step depending on the lighting, the hair so thick that it kept her back and neck warm in the winter months, hair that was in beautiful condition from root to tip, hair that would have been the best looking on campus were it not for her best friend . . . Laura had nothing but a shining white scalp. She hated it, how it made her feel cold, naked and light, how it made her already large forehead go on forever, how her facial features now looked smaller in size . . . she now understood Emily’s sadness tenfold.
Chloe looked on in despondence at the poor girl sitting before her, weeping into the massive pile of shorn chestnut locks in her lap. She had done what she wanted, shaved her head right to the skin. But there had to be something she could say or do to make her feel better. The sacrifice she made was still a big shock to her client despite her noble intentions to stand in solidarity with a friend. She needed to know that her decision was very brave, and for a good cause.
“It’s alright, Laura . . . “ Chloe cooed, resting her hands on Laura’s shoulders in a comforting gesture. “ . . . you did the right thing . . . “
With that, Chloe undid the cape and lifted it. Laura watched, sobbing as all the hair slid off the nylon to join the rest of the shorn silk surrounding her stylist’s station. She staggered up and out of the chair, stumbling up to her feet trying to shake her legs out from feeling like jelly, her feet accidentally landing in a pile of her auburnish pride and joy more than once. Laura reached into her pocket and pulled out two twenties.
“No, please,” she waved off. “For your reason, it’s on the house–”
Shaking her head, Laura forced the money into Chloe’s hands before striding out of the salon, immediately feeling the sun’s rays against her bald head, and sweat fell from the top of her head and into her eyes almost instantly; with no hair on her head came no protection from perspiration. She briskly strode toward her car, fumbling through her purse the whole way hoping to find a hat, a beret, anything to shield her hairlessness from the sunlight and confused onlookers, but couldn’t before she finally made it to and unlocked her driver’s side door.
Laura got in her seat and slammed the door, not even bothering to adjust her rearview mirror before starting her car and driving away. The last thing she wanted to see was her reflection, not so soon. Her mind was racing with a mix of emotions as she drove: sadness over losing all her hair, confusion over all the new sensations and unsettling experiences to which her head was being exposed, humiliation over being naked to the entire world, and the reminder that her best friend had these feelings just mere weeks ago. The only way Laura could understand Emily’s pain was to feel it, and the truth to that reality sank into her skin for the entire drive . . . until she finally reached Emily’s apartment complex.
After one forceful walk up the stairs, Laura banged on Emily’s front door.
“Emily!!! It’s me!!!” she exclaimed, but to no answer.
She knocked a second time, but harder.
“It’s Laura!!! Please! Open the door!” Laura pleaded.
Little did Laura know, however, that her best friend herself was sitting against the door with a blank expression, her smooth bald head resting against the marble.
“Leave me alone!” Emily demanded. But Laura remained persistent and knocked even harder.
“YOU WERE RIGHT!!!” Laura shouted, her voice echoing in the breezeway. “I didn’t understand how you felt!!!”
“You’ll NEVER understand!!” Emily retorted. “I lost something I loved and I’ll never get it back!”
Laura paused, turning her head down toward the ground, her bare head grazing the door in front of her.
“So did I, Emily . . . “ Laura stated, “. . . and I can’t lose you, too . . . “
A short gasp escaped Emily’s lips, and she rose to her feet. She didn’t… her inner voice screamed, before finally opening her door . . .
. . .and caught her breath at the sight of Laura, who met her outside their Sociology class with a beautiful curtain of lush brown hair with auburn hues and blonde highlights, but between then and now had it whittled down to nothing. Their baldness was now mutual.
“Oh my God . . . “ Emily exhaled as her vision blurred with water, but Laura stepped inside, taking her hand to encourage comfort.
“I told you I would make it up to you.“ Laura chuckled with relief, her own eyes turning glassy with tears forming.
“You shouldn’t have had to . . . “ Emily cried, her voice breaking with wracked sadness. With that, she wrapped her arms around her freshly bald best friend and cried into her shoulder, heaving with heavy sobs as she slid her hand up Laura’s neck until it encompassed the entire back of Laura’s denuded head.
“I’m so sorry, Laura . . . the last thing I wanted was to drive you toward destroying your beautiful hair,” Emily wept.
“I wanted to do it, Emily . . . I understand you now.” Laura sobbed, in between her own breakdown, as she returned her best friend’s embrace.
“But you are not alone in this. . .”
With that, Emily felt Laura’s hand creeping up her back. The shock of the sensation made her freeze; all she could do was feel the affection and solace of Laura’s embrace, while her palm slid over the bumps of her spine, the part of her upper back exposed at the top of her dress, her neck. . .
. . .
. . .and then slowly, but surely, for the first time ever, Emily felt Laura’s small, gentle pinkie finger resting on the back of her head. . .followed by her ring finger, then the middle. . .her pointer. . .the thumb . . .
. . .
. . .until her entire hand was caressing the naked skin of Emily’s bald head, moving up her crown and exploring the top of her paté. The touch of her closest friend’s hand against the place where four feet of beautiful golden tresses formerly adorned her head made Emily gasp with the electric jolt it sent throughout her entire body, and only forced her to cry even harder. But these tears were more a mess of her combined grief over her lost locks and her happiness over Laura’s support, physical condolence and platonic affection. If she had just let Laura touch her where her hair once veiled her body like a blonde cloak, she wouldn’t have been so obsessive compulsive about her insecurities. But it was too late for ‘what ifs’. Laura’s repeated caresses against her shining scalp finally centered Emily into the present moment, one that assured she was still beautiful, still worthy of love, still a wonderful person on this earth.
The two held each other for five minutes, the time feeling longer well after they collapsed on the couch, still weeping into the other’s shoulders. Laura appreciated Emily’s apology, but her own morbid curiosity and inner desire to be a happy and hopeful shining light for her loved ones in their darkest moments brought her to this point, and she wouldn’t have changed a thing about the experience. She could tell by the warm, gentle touch of Emily’s body against hers, and fingers skimming against the skin of her scalp that she was finally ready to move forward, and continue her life accepting that her greatest beauty was not on her head, but within herself.
EPILOGUE
Five months after that fateful March, a summer semester art exhibit took place on campus, where Emily Weiland won first prize for her new thesis project: a ceramic cast of two heads identical in size, but the one on the left had psychedelic red patterns, the other with trippy blue designs in mind. Both heads were together by the forehead, with the blue of the right head slightly bleeding into the red on the left head like gravy frozen mid-fall from its spout. Laura stood with Emily at her booth, both of them now sporting five-inch long crop hairstyles; Laura’s a straight brown pixie, and Emily’s styled like wavy bed hair and shimmering with blonde splendor.
“Ms. Weiland, congratulations on this well-deserved award!” complemented an exhibit-goer. “Can you tell us the message of your final piece?”
Emily flashed a proud, confident smile, more exuberant than any face she made in the previous five months.
“Every person’s life is a world in and of itself, and for one reason or another, it suffers great peril through trauma.” Emily responded, before turning toward Laura. “This shows how the collision of two worlds can create something beautiful.”
Laura chuckled with a bashful smile at her friend’s comment, because she knew it was the truth. It took therapy and camaraderie, but Emily regained the courage to continue her school work, even if it meant pushing her independent study to the summer, delaying her graduation. Her parents settled their lawsuit with Original Designers, and Emily kept an amicable friendship with Ryan, was able to delay her MoMA internship to that fall, and graduated in the summer with flying colors after having all season to perfect her art project, and Laura would soon follow with an entry-level job in human resources at an investment bank company.
Emily and Laura both understood they would never have hair as long as they did ever again, and no one knew what happened to Brooke in the months following her theft of Emily’s locks, but it didn’t matter. Emily had gone through an unfathomable trauma, and gained the resilience to rise above and live with it, now smarter and better for the experience. As far as Laura was concerned, Rapunzel had been reawakened to her inner beauty and strength and she couldn’t have been prouder.
THE END
