I waved and followed Ramsey. I smiled at the other hairdressers. Three women and a guy who seemed to be doing most of the whispering.
Ramsey tapped her chair. “Let me see what I’m working with.”
I hopped on and settled in as the cape swished around my neck.
She lifted the bulk of the hair. “This must have taken ages to put in. Are you sure you want me to take it all out.”
I nodded. “I was thinking something around my shoulders. I won’t be on tour for a while so I can grow out my natural hair.”
“You want me to chop it too?”
I nodded. “It’s fried.”
She sunk her fingers into the extensions and my scalp protested at the touch even. “You’re right. You’re not going to blacklist me when you see what’s left of your actual hair are you?”
“Depends. Do you suck at this?”
She stared at me in the mirror. “I’m a fucking genius.”
“Then show me.”
She picked up her scissors. “You asked for it.” She pulled out her phone and earbuds. “I need music. You good with that?”
“Go ahead.” I didn’t need the personal chatter. I shut my eyes and listened to the gossip going around me in the salon.
Babies being born, marriages, a few affairs. Small-town life wasn’t a helluva lot different from Los Angeles, there were just more designer labels.
My lips twitched as the male hairdresser spoke about an affair between the manager of Haven Bank and Trust and the chef at Heavenly Bite.
I kind of drifted off into a semi-meditative statement as locks slowly disappeared. I could feel it more than see it. The weight of the tour coming off in each section.
“There.”
I opened my eyes. I wasn’t sure how long I’d drifted.
Ramsey held four hanks of golden blond hair. “Do you realize how much this is worth?”
“I guess you’re going to make out on it, aren’t you?”
She nodded. “Probably no more than pocket change for you.”
“Now it is. But when I started I went to the thrift store over on Halloran and dug through countless bins of clothes to make up outfits for videos.”
She laid the hanks of hair into a drawer. “Now, am I supposed to think you’re more relatable?”
I laughed. “You can think what you want. Most people do.” I fluffed my fingers through the shorter strands. It barely fell past my shoulders now and I could see where she’d cut around the sewn-in extensions.
Harini had done a mix of different kinds of extensions to make as much volume as possible for me. I’d had too many hair malfunctions on stage that I’d needed semi-permanent options for all the dancing I did.
“I’m still going to have to cut more.”
“Can you make collar bone length work?”
“I think that would look good, actually. If you’re brave enough to let me give you something cool, I have an idea for a cut.”
“Go for it. I’ll be home for a few months—maybe longer. I can always come in for a touch up.”
“Can I do some color?”
