Prologue

Elena’s hair was her crown. A cascade of shimmering chestnut that flowed past her knees. But it was more than just hair. It was her identity, her pride, and, increasingly, her livelihood.

The internet had fallen captive to its beauty. Her social media channels, initially a simple hobby, had blossomed into a modest source of income. She displayed her hair in elaborate braids, mesmerising bun drops and shared meticulously researched hair care routines. The comments section buzzed with admiration, the likes and subscriptions steadily climbing. This success allowed her to upgrade her filming equipment and enhance her wardrobe with more stylish clothes that increased the allure of her videos.

But beyond the shallowness of online fame, her channel had brought her something far more precious. And that was Laura.

Laura was a devoted fan of Elena, a constant presence in the comments section, always offering insightful observations and warming compliments. Their online exchanges blossomed into private messages, then phone calls, and finally, a real-life meeting.

To Elena’s delight, Laura lived not too far away on the other side of the city. Soon, friendship morphed into something deeper, and Elena found herself head-over-heels in love.

But little did Elena know, everything was about to change.

Entering Paradise

Before meeting Laura, Elena had little success in relationships with either men or women. She felt the unique charm of her long hair should have elevated her attraction, but after one or two dates any mutual interest quickly faded.

She had overheard at work that her colleagues considered her aloof, even snobbish. But these were not descriptions that she recognised as applying to herself. However, she had worked as a secretary on a long-term contract basis for the same organisation. And that, it appeared, set her apart from the full-time employees. So, during her tenure, not one co-worker had become a friend.

If asked, Elena would cite her acceptance online to give credence to her belief she was a sociable person. But no one did ask. And, in her own bubble, she overlooked that she was still physically alone when inhabiting the virtual world.

Elena was delighted by her deepening relationship with Laura. However, even she was surprised how quickly their relationship had blossomed after her confusing past. But, given how she felt, she was determined to do all she needed to make it work.

= * = * =

‘You know, you could really capitalise on your online fame, Elena,’ Laura cooed one evening, tracing a strand of Elena’s hair. ‘Think about it. You could quit your job. And we could travel …’

‘I suppose, but I was actually thinking of scaling back my online presence now we’re together,’ Elena said hesitantly. ‘It doesn’t seem right, me flaunting myself online, to others …’

Laura vehemently opposed the idea. ‘Don’t be silly! Your hair is your brand. We just need to elevate it. Monetise it!’

And elevate it they did. Under Laura’s guidance, Elena’s channel exploded. Sponsorships poured in. Elena quit her secretarial job, trading spreadsheets for designer outfits and shampoo endorsements.

The wholesome country-girl image that Elena had pursued, complemented by flowing dresses and her long hair, was gravitating towards one of a stereotypical sexy secretary. At Laura’s insistence, plunging necklines and tight miniskirts might be introducing a dash of risqué fun, but Elena felt slightly uncomfortable as she flaunted herself. However, she could not deny the dramatic increase in income.

The couple celebrated their newfound wealth by completely refurbishing Elena’s apartment, making it a more professional space for filming her videos. As well as investing a considerable proportion of their profits, Laura coaxed Elena into buying a gleaming red sports car as a treat for them both. Laura, acting in the role Elena’s agent, meticulously managed their finances. She took a significant cut of the earnings, justifying it as a reward for the time she invested and leaving Elena free to focus on her hair and creativity.

For a glorious honeymoon period, Elena basked in the glow of success, blinded by love and the allure of a life she had only dreamed of.

The Cracks Appear

The tide began to turn as quickly as it had risen. Viewership plateaued. Sponsorships dwindled. The social media algorithms, fickle and unforgiving, seemed to have turned against them. The income stream dried up. The car payments loomed, and the threat of losing their apartment hung heavy in the air. Panic gnawed at Elena. She tried everything to reignite the spark but, even with tighter and shorter outfits, the internet’s attention had moved on.

Then, a lifeline appeared, or so it seemed. An email arrived from someone called Chantal at DarkLocks, pitching a bold proposal based on their established business. They would give Elena a series of radical makeovers, progressively shorter and more daring hairstyles, broadcast live to a paying audience, with edited video highlights available for purchase.

Naturally, Elena recoiled in horror. ‘Absolutely not! I would never do that,’ she murmured to herself, consigning the email to the Trash folder, and seeing no need to mention it to Laura.

DarkLocks persisted, sending follow-up emails, Chantal making each one sound more enticing than the last. Elena deleted them all.

= * = * =

‘Oh, what’s that, sweetheart?’ Laura asked casually one day, cuddled up together on the sofa. Covertly tapping keys on the laptop, Laura leaned forward and pointed to Elena’s inbox displayed on the screen. ‘A proposal?’

‘It’s nothing,’ Elena answered, waving a hand dismissively. ‘That’s odd though, as I thought I had deleted it,’ she muttered under her breath, puzzled by its reappearance.

Laura eagerly read the proposal while Elena sat next to her, feeling uncomfortable.

‘It all seems legitimate. They have a professional looking website, testimonials, and everything,’ Laura concluded. ‘And they are offering a great deal of money …’

‘But you love my hair, Laura,’ Elena bleated, taken aback by her girlfriend’s interest.

‘Well, it would be a huge sacrifice … for both of us,’ Laura agreed, tapping her chin thoughtfully. ‘Still, you could just hear them out, sweetheart,’ Laura urged, her voice laced with reluctance, but planting the dark seed in Elena’s mind. ‘Given our financial situation, it can’t hurt to explore every possibility.’

Daily, over the next week, Laura highlighted another bill that was due for payment. Each time, she would remind Elena of her suggestion regarding the DarkLocks proposal.

Eventually, after Laura’s gentle, but relentless, pressure, Elena reluctantly agreed to a meeting with Chantal.

The Devil in Disguise

Chantal was a force of nature, radiating an unsettling blend of charm and cold calculation. Her words were honeyed, her promises extravagant: a hefty advance, a generous percentage of the profits, and a guarantee of future work. She described the DarkLocks project as “transformative”, “empowering”, and “an artistic exploration of beauty standards”.

Elena remained unconvinced, her mind only picturing her precious and beloved locks being sheared away. Laura, feigning support for Elena, squeezed her hand. ‘It is your decision, sweetheart. I will support you no matter what.’

But beneath the surface, unseen by her Elena, Laura’s eyes betrayed a more predatory gleam.

Elena lost herself in desperate thoughts, guilt-ridden at the prospect of losing everything she had built with her new partner. Her magnificent long hair had given them the life together that they could only have dreamed of previously. She had to weigh up whether the loss of a proportion of that hair was a sacrifice worth making to allow them to maintain that lifestyle.

‘Look, sweetheart, we managed without that red sportscar before,’ Laura broke the silence, impatience subtly colouring her tone, ‘and I am sure we will manage without it in the future. We will be fine.’

‘Oh, Laura, but we could lose everything … everything we’ve built together,’ Elena whined, her resistance crumbling. ‘So …’ Elena took a deep breath, ‘fine … let’s do it!’

The Final Countdown

The day arrived, a stark contrast to Elena’s humble beginnings. Gone were the shaky phone and action camera recordings and, in their place, was a professional crew with a dazzling array of lights and cameras on tripods.

Chantal stepped out in front of the cameras first to confirm that they were ready. She wore a tailored black blazer over a crisp white blouse, coupled with a short pencil skirt with a slit up the back. With her shoulder skimming corporate bob and killer heels, she could have walked straight out of a boardroom.

Satisfied with the arrangements, Chantal beckoned Elena to join her. She wore a calf-length floral print dress with puffed sleeves, reminiscent of the feminine country-girl style she had favoured in her original videos. The pretty material provided a perfect counterpoint to her magnificent long hair that trailed down to a freshly trimmed neat line just below her knees.

A make-up girl stepped forward, bolstering Elena’s features far more than the natural look that she preferred, working quickly and efficiently. She could feel the eyes of the crew and Laura boring into her from behind the cameras and lights, a mix of anticipation and excitement.

Once Elena had been prepared, the live stream was enabled for the paying audience. A screen on the wall displayed a count of the number of subscribers who had been eagerly anticipating the event. As the appointed time approached, the counter began to quickly rise resulting in Chantal’s immense satisfaction.

Chantal introduced Elena to the customers in a relaxed and friendly tone that she rarely used outside the studio. Her calm voice served to settle Elena a little … but only a little!

‘Now, Elena, please could you display your magnificent hair to all your fans, both new and old … for what will be,’ Chantal chuckled, ‘the very last time!’

Laura had urged Elena to remain stoic, whatever Chantal’s provocation. Just put on a brave face, she had urged, and it will all be over soon enough. Elena had previously rehearsed the presentation with Chantal, so she knew the actions and poses the host required her to perform. After all, it was the same as what she had done for years in her own videos. However, she had not expected Chantal’s barbed jibe for the benefit of the paying audience, and that had completely unsettled her.

Elena went through the motions of ponytails and bun drops, but she felt more like a puppet rather than someone expressing her love of long hair for the enjoyment of herself and her fans.

‘Such a wonderful sight, I am sure you will all agree,’ Chantal praised, gesturing magnanimously, ‘but I can’t imagine how she feels, knowing that this will be the last time she will be able to flaunt her hair in this way,’ she concluded, smirking with cool detachment.

‘Stoic!’ Laura mouthed from behind a camera operator as a flustered Elena looked in her direction.

Taking comfort from seeing her girlfriend’s smile, Elena turned and took a deep breath. Swinging around, she allowed her hair to splay out gloriously, all around her … for the very last time.

‘You did very well, sweetie,’ Chantal whispered encouragingly, as she led her slightly windswept model towards the large and intimidating barber’s chair placed in the centre of the studio space.

The First Cut Is the Deepest

Standing proud behind the barber’s chair was the imposing figure of Carla, the DarkLocks barber. Tall and muscular, Carla wore a ridiculously short white dress, zipped at the front with a plunging neckline. The garment served to accentuate her figure, display her cleavage, and reveal most her legs. She had pulled her dark hair into a severe ponytail, emphasising her sharp features. Her bold and carefully considered appearance lent her a striking air of clinical detachment.

Carla moved behind Elena, smirking, as she gently ran her fingers through the waterfall of hair before her. Her model simply stared straight ahead like a deer in headlights.

‘So, are you excited, sweetie?’ Chantal purred. ‘The world is so looking forward to what is coming,’ she smiled, looking up, satisfied by the counter passing yet another milestone.

Laura had told Elena to remain stoic as she prepared for the pivotal occasion. By contrast, Chantal had urged Elena to simply be herself and respond naturally to the situation as it developed.

At that moment, stoicism having left her, she followed Chantal’s directive. ‘I’m terrified,’ she replied, her voice breaking.

‘That’s good, sweetie,’ Chantal chuckled distractedly, sounding needlessly cruel. ‘So, let’s get this spectacular show on the road!’

The first snip echoed through the room like a death knell. Elena gasped as Carla theatrically waggled a massive chunk of her hair in front of her eyes, before allowing it to float down into her lap. Dutifully, as Chantal had instructed beforehand, Elena collected the ends together. She shivered with sadness as, although she had no mirror to witness what was occurring, she could already feel the ends of her severed hair skimming the tops of her shoulders.

Carla, impassive, continued the assault, hacking away at Elena’s precious locks with slow but ruthless efficiency. After ten agonising minutes, the barber had reduced her knee-length glory to an unflattering and uneven blunt, shoulder-length chop … to call it a style would have been an exaggeration.

Elena tried to hide her tears, but Chantal encouraged her to unashamedly display her emotions, directing a camera to capture every agonising drop.

‘Cry, sweetie, cry!’ Chantal cackled. ‘It is all part of the artistic performance!’

Elena, raw and vulnerable, paraded up and down with her drastically shortened hair for the benefit of the live stream. In her hand she morosely swung her severed locks that she had collected in the chair, presenting them to the audience as if they were a macabre trophy.

‘This beautiful hair of Elena’s is the prize,’ Chantal announced to the camera, rousing the invisible audience. ‘Who wants this piece of internet history? Place your bids in the comments section!’ The more Elena half-heartedly waved her former hair, the higher the bid rose. ‘Come on, this is a once in a lifetime opportunity!’

Elena was emotionally exhausted but, as she soon found out, the shoulder skimming chop was merely the prelude to her fall.

To be continued