"Ah jeez, I'll have to make this edge curve this way... I'm sorry it can't be straight like you wanted," Tom informed, holding a pair of shears in one hand and a comb in the other. I pouted and looked at him through the mirror.
"Can't you at least try?" I wondered. Tom shook his head as he snipped away the damaged ends of my hair.
"This is as straight as I can get it without completely ruining what hair you have left! Don't worry, Tae, it'll look fine... and in this queer place, you'll fit right in with me!"
I paused and furrowed my brow as I processed his choice of words. Finally, I turned my head to the man in a manner of both suspicion and confusion.
"What are you on about?" I asked, narrowing my eyes at him. Tom flashed me a cheeky grin and laughed.
"Well, dearest Tae... I don't know if you've noticed but that Cheetah fellow... Hoo! Damn!" He laughed and ran a hand through his brown hair. The realisation hit me, and my eyes grew wide in pure shock. I jolted around in my chair to face him, staring at him and demanding an explanation, "What?! You're not serious are you!?"
Tom's amused snickering relieved me, as I knew he was joking and I allowed myself to stare at him suspiciously as I sunk back down into my chair. Tom continued to correct my hair for a few minutes, still giggling to himself about his little stunt. I calmed down a bit and rolled my eyes at his shenanigans; however, just as I began to dismiss his foolery, he interrupted the silence between us by saying, "I'm not joking, Cheetah is a damn attractive fellow. If we shared a bed, I wouldn't be complaining."
"NO!" I cried out in surprise. Tom burst into laughter and leant on his knees from the amount of laughter that he was producing. His eyes were watering with tears but I found no humour in the situation; I wasn't sure if he was joking all along or he was serious and actually did turn down that road with his sexuality.
"Okay! I want Reginald MacSeren back, please! I don't know who this is but he's confusing me!" I exclaimed loudly, hoping that would somehow bring my friend back to reality and drop his little "scheme". Tom continued to laugh, but eventually, he popped back up and leant on the chair for support.
Thankfully, he recovered soon after and, with tears still dripping down his cheeks from his laughter, he pointed to me in the mirror and said, "Hush... this is a circus, we're meant to confuse people."
"But-"
"But shush... people are people and will love who they feel like it."
"Is that normal!?" I wondered, I felt as if my mind had been forcefully expanded by this new knowledge. Now I knew Tom wasn't just joking... he was being serious and giving me a lesson.
"Of course it's normal! But unfortunately, not many people know that so... shush. Keep quiet about this, and you'll keep everyone who has the same ideas safe... including me," He told me as he styled my hair and cut more hair off. I thought for a moment; my newfound information was heavy and I wasn't quite sure what to do with it. But at last, I nodded; Tom never was one to lie to me or tell me false information. Why would he now?
Finally, Tom made one last snip and finished with a satisfied sigh, a proud smile was plastered on his face as he stared at his work in the mirror. I examined the haircut carefully; it was shorter than even Precision had cut it and I looked almost like a small boy, but I guess it was all necessary for it to look presentable. With a soft sigh and a weak-hearted smile, I told him that it looked good.
"Why thank you! It's some of my best work yet if I do say so myself!" Tom stated proudly.
I managed a small giggle at my dear friend's enthusiasm, "Will my hair ever grow back, though?" I wondered. Tom smiled and placed his hands on my shoulders comfortingly.
"Of course, it will. Unless you later decide you want to keep this hairstyle, then we can keep cutting it," he assured. I nodded and stared at myself for a while, wondering if I actually had hope that I could be proud of how I looked. I looked like a young boy, maybe I could live with that and not be forced to live up to women's standards; as pleasant as that would be to be able to live like a dignified woman, maybe it would be more pleasant living as Tom had when he was a young boy.
TomCat began to clean up while I stared at myself. I ignored him in favour of imagining how my life would be if I were as spontaneous as the young boys who were allowed to get dirty and play games in empty lots. It was a promising life if I only had friends to play with.