The First Cut

My first ever story, with help…

 

 

Jared had walked past the same salon every Thursday for six months. Always the same route. Always slowing down a little more. Always glancing through the window at the posters taped to the wall—layered bobs, pixie cuts, blunt bangs. Soft curls framing strong cheekbones. Hair that defied expectations.

 

He didn’t know what the pull was, exactly. Just that every time he saw the stylist in the chair, snipping away at someone else’s new beginning, something inside him twisted—part envy, part longing, part fear.

 

He’d grown his hair out quietly, slowly. He told people it was just laziness, or maybe a hipster thing. But he knew the truth: he wanted something more. Something softer. Something seen.

 

That Thursday, he paused outside the salon, fingers trembling in the wind. He read the sign again: Walk-ins welcome.

 

He stepped inside.

 

 

The chime over the door rang a gentle bell as Jared stepped inside. The warm air smelled faintly of lavender and shampoo, a comforting contrast to the chill outside. The buzz of hair dryers and soft indie music filled the room.

 

A young woman looked up from the reception desk. She was maybe mid-twenties, her short, choppy silver hair styled in a way that made her look both edgy and effortlessly cool. Her lip curled into a smile as she set her tablet down.

 

“Hey there,” she said, standing. “Walk-in?”

 

Jared hesitated. His hand hovered near the door for a split second longer than it needed to. “Yeah. Just… thinking about a change.”

 

She tilted her head in that way stylists do—reading him, measuring, imagining. “First time here?”

 

He nodded, awkwardly brushing a hand through his thick, shoulder-length hair.

 

“Well, you came to the right place. I’m Riley. Want to talk through what you’re thinking?”

 

Jared sat in the chair she motioned to, his legs stiff with nerves. His voice came out softer than he expected. “I’ve always wondered what it’d be like to… have a more feminine cut.”

 

Riley didn’t flinch. Didn’t even blink. Just smiled gently and nodded. “Cool. There are a lot of options, and we can take it slow. What are you drawn to?”

 

He let out a breath he didn’t know he’d been holding.

 

“Something soft,” he said. “Maybe a bob. Or something with layers. I don’t want to hide anymore.”

 

Riley gave him a warm, knowing look. “Then let’s make sure this cut shows you.”

 

Riley ran her fingers gently through Jared’s hair, feeling its weight and texture. “You’ve got great volume,” she said thoughtfully. “Ever thought about going curly?”

 

He blinked. “Curly?”

 

“Yeah,” she said, reaching over to a photo book on the counter. She flipped through a few pages, stopping on one with soft, bouncy curls shaped into a chin-length perm. “Something like this. It’s feminine, expressive—but still totally you. Could give you a whole new energy.”

 

Jared studied the photo. The curls were light and playful, falling in effortless loops that framed the face like a halo. It was beautiful. And terrifying.

 

“I’ve never done anything like that,” he said, voice low.

 

“That’s kind of the point, right?” Riley grinned. “Big change, big reveal.”

 

He glanced at himself in the mirror. Same him—tired eyes, hidden behind overgrown strands. But maybe not for long.

 

“Let’s do it,” he said finally. “Perm and all.”

 

Riley’s eyes lit up. “Yes! Okay, we’ll cut first, then perm. It’ll take a little time, but I promise—it’ll be worth it.”

 

As she sectioned off his hair and snipped the first lock, Jared felt something shift. Like shedding armor. Or stepping out of a shadow.

 

The old version of him drifted to the floor with each cut.

 

 

Riley clipped up the top section of Jared’s hair, her fingers moving with a quiet confidence. “So, I’m thinking—ear-length bob, bangs to soften the front, and a shaved nape to really give it shape and contrast. Sound good?”

 

Jared stared at his reflection. His heartbeat thudded in his ears, but he nodded. “Yeah. That… actually sounds amazing.”

 

“Alright,” she said, grabbing her clippers with a grin. “We’re going all in.”

 

The first buzz at the nape sent a chill down his spine—sharp and thrilling. Riley worked quickly, clean lines forming behind him. She showed him in a hand mirror when she was done: a sleek, precise undercut that already made him feel lighter.

 

Next came the bulk of the cut. She trimmed to just below his ears, the curved shape hugging his jawline in a way that felt surprisingly flattering. She carved out bangs that brushed just above his eyebrows, a soft curtain that transformed his face instantly.

 

Then the perm rods went in, and time slowed. The process was quiet—chemicals, heat, patience. Jared sat still, breathing in the moment.

 

By the time Riley unraveled the last curl and tousled them loose with her fingers, the mirror showed someone new. Someone vibrant. Alive. Beautiful.

 

“You look incredible,” she said, stepping back to let him take it in.

 

He stared at his reflection, blue eyes wide, bangs falling gently over his forehead, curls bouncing slightly as he tilted his head.

 

For the first time in years, he smiled at what he saw.