The forums and videos out there tell you just how freeing it is to cut your hair. Visions of long chunks falling away, watching the smothered masculinity rise up and out of your face as the strands hide less and less. It looks like you’re being reborn anew, and some sort of amazing music feeds out of the walls along with the strength to accomplish whatever you want. What they don’t tell you, is that it piles up, and like hell are you going to be able to wash that shit down the sink drain with anything less than a gallon of draining fluid if you tried.

His eyes weren’t on the strands in the sink though, they were affixed to the mirror, staring at his face no longer framed by long waves. It really was him now. “Ren.” He croaked, forcing the name through his lips, tasting the similarity and difference of his new name. “Hey, I’m Ren.” The second time, he grew a bit more confidence, trying less to force his voice down, and instead let it flow. “Ren Larkspur.” His eyes rolled with a gust of a breath. “And now I have almost a two bird name. Perfect. Didn’t think of that.” He snorted at himself, finally turning back to his mess with less jitters in his shoulders than before.

Ren grimaced at the pile of shorn wavy curls in the porcelain white sink, reaching down with a had to gingerly scoop what he could from their new home. “Freeing. You’ll feel a weight has been lifted. Duh, it’s a lot of hair.” The blond muttered, wrinkling his nose as another clump made it into the pile. His hair, a point of pride for his mother, had been almost back length in shining strawberry blond strands. His source of heartache steadily transferred from the drain to the waste bin, dropping down to hide with q-tips and empty toilet paper rolls.

There wasn’t much he could do about his school uniform. The plaid horror complete with skirt and tie was mandatory, and borrowing slacks from Ethan definitely would earn a call from the front office, something he really didn’t want to deal with from his parents. Except the betting pool was open on how long it would take for them to notice. Not that they didn’t care, oh no. Caring was there, if a little distant and somewhat far away due to their respective jobs.

They were a cute couple, the kind that met in that romantic way paired together for a job. His father was a small time scientist. Not the kind that spent his life staring through a microscope, no. He was the type that had enough savvy to bust out a few relatively well known papers, which sent him on various lecturing circuits. His mother, in her youth, had been listed as a personal assistant for hire from a firm. The group his first tour was with, well, she was lucky enough to stumble right into him with the rest of her laptop toting entourage. Love at first sight, really. The rest, considering him existing, was history.

His father continued to dole out the odd lecture between jobs, which took him all over to various conventions and universities, and that of course took his mother with him. She spent more time at home than he, but not much. There were often weeks where they’d all be ships passing in the night, only meeting up the odd Sunday morning or a surprising weekend at home. It wasn’t terribly heartbreaking, being solitary at meals. His classes this year were quite grueling, a pace he’d set himself. Mostly to help distract himself from inward musings, but it worked to round out loneliness as well. Hey, if they weren’t home, they wouldn’t bug him with stupid questions.

His phone buzzed, tugging his thoughts away from the mostly cleaned up mess and towards the counter where it rattled against the granite. Black sharpie covered the case, with clear nail polish acting as a sealant to keep the color from fading. Didn’t quite help with the chips, where candy pink peeked through on corners that had been scraped or when it had been jostled and dropped. Cases were expensive, this one was waterproof. Tugging up the phone, he slid rhythmically across the lock, reading over the text and chewing at his lip.

Dusty’s tonight? -E

Dusty’s was the main arcade in the area, pretty big and well known as a hangout for most of the schools in the area. Friday night? It’d be packed. His eyes moved to the mirror, where his hair tufted up and about with various cowlicks. No way his new ‘do wouldn’t be noticed. Excellent. Time to make a stand, show his best friend his true face. Of course, Ethan Townsend was his best friend, hands down. Also pretty much his only friend, if he was being honest.

It just so happened that Ethan was heir to the largest tech corporation known to man. No sweat, right? He certainly didn’t care, though that fact remained the same for pretty much everything he did. Ethan tended to be pretty bland when it came to such matters, and his cold shoulder front only seemed to add to his ‘badass’ attitude. To put it simply, most of the kids at their school were in awe of him for his money and his ‘tude. Yes men, popular kids, and the silver spoon groups alike all tried getting on his good side, or fawning over him to get notice. None of it worked.

Apparently all you had to do to be his friend, was be honest. Perhaps though, be honest about your intentions, and not call him out for his shit attitude in front of a group of kids. But that’s a story for another time.

You know it. I’ll be there in an hour. Bring your lunch money, I’ll figure out what milkshake I want from the diner. -L

Like hell, you’re going down this time. -E

Smirking to himself, a bit more confident after the interaction, Ren pocketed his phone and hurried to trim what he could into a bit more of an actual style. His dad had gels he could borrow, nothing he’d miss and this weekend was plenty of time to learn how to appropriately style his hair before school on Monday. A few hairs itched at his nape, drifting away from his shearing mess and laying over his baggy flannel button up. Here and there, he’d picked up long sleeve shirts, hats, comfortable hoodies, the whole kit. It was easy if you hit the thrift stores, and happened to be a beanpole. Hopefully he wouldn’t look too much like a hoodlum on his first night out.