Finally, I have some free time to actually do something with my fan fiction account. I sincerely apologise to anyone who has us on Author Alert or anything like that. Life has not been merciful.

This fic below was actually written (on paper) a long time ago, and inspired by Jeff's haircut last year. Yes, last year. Anyway, I really disliked that hair cut. It reminded me of the hundreds of girls I once went to school with, with their flat, boring hair cuts that all looked the same.

This is a funny (hopefully), short fic with the intent of some shallow teasing. I don't own Jeff and Matt Hardy, WWE(F), and whoever else I mention below. Enjoy!

Chloe


Upon gaining more notoriety with Matt in the Tag Team Division, their popularity increased quite naturally. After being jobbers for so long (and not just any jobber, what with their very fancy wrestling attire), he felt a much-needed change of appearance.

(Alright, who was he kidding? He had been just downright bored.)

Thus came about the humble beginnings of his future nickname, the 'Rainbow-Haired Warrior'.

(It was cornier than half the stuff he'd seen on Days of Our Lives, which he'd been forced to watch, once upon a time, after being stuck in a hospital with a lousy TV.

If he'd known that his simple decision to look a bit more special would someday give birth to a nickname so cringe-worthy he might've had second-thoughts about going through with it in the first place.)


His first attempt was, truthfully, nothing short of disastrous; his hair looked nothing like a 'rainbow'. It much more resembled the type of 'art' one saw on the bedroom walls of a toddler who decided his room was too boring and just so happened to receive a brand-new pack of non-toxic crayons for his 4th birthday.

(He knew that, because he never really liked his bedroom walls when he was 4 years old either.)

Miraculously, the fans went batshit insane over it, and his popularity shot through the roof. The fan-girls wouldn't stop screaming in admiration whenever he was less than 10 feet away from them, which he took as a good thing (though inside he felt a slight lapse of faith in humanity. Honestly, his hair was hideous).

His second try came a week later (he thanked the Gods that while he was lacking in functional brains sometimes, he'd had enough sense then to use temporary dye on his first try). Surprisingly, this time there were much more pleasing results. Instead of the mop of mismatched colours that had covered his head over the past week, his hair was now a very nice shade of blue mixed with black, nothing too wild and crazy, just something slightly different.

(Matt said he looked like Sonic the Hedgehog, but he managed to cheer himself up by laughing at the expression on Matt's face after threats of shampoo mixed with mustard were made.)


Soon enough, he was trying other things like body paint, piercings, and even tattoos were being taken into consideration. But of course; with the emergence of his spiffy new look (which he experimented with every week), people were bound to ask questions.

Jay Reso (Christian) came up to him one day and asked him, "Why?"

"I think more clearly with my hair dyed. Maybe the bleach gets to the brain or something and clears it of all the dark messiness. You get? "

Jay had only given him a wide-eyed look in response.

To Shawn Michaels, he explained

"I fell head-first into a bucket of bleach and decided to make the most of it. Hehe, heh eheheh."

Of course, that criminally ridiculous reply had come a few seconds after gaping like a fish ("Oh. My. God. SHAWN MICHAELS knows I exist."), as he suddenly realised his childhood idol was still waiting for a response. Somehow, the real reason – "Boredom" was kinda anti-climatic.


So the years passed by in relative peace (he imagined Matt doing his trademark 'What-the-hell?' snort). Okay, so maybe he'd been released, went off to a rival company (where he grew a little goatee that he himself thought was adorable, while his fans just pretended to like it), earned an even cornier nickname ("The Charismatic-Enigma"? Seriously?), left said company and returned to the WWE, but hey. It didn't really affect his hair (except for the odd grey ones which popped out sneakily), and that made him a satisfied and content man.

Until sometime around his 30th birthday, where, ironically, he'd been talking about the good-ol days with none other than Shawn Michaels (minus the fish impersonation and brain-cell-killing responses). During this conversation, wherein he was forced to look back and think about himself 10 years ago, he suddenly realised his hair back then looked exactly the same as his current hair did. The last time he'd done anything new with it was around 2002/2003, where his eardrums had suffered most following the reactions to his stylish short hair.

He felt a much needed change of appearance (yet again), while inside he confessed to himself that he was just so very bored (déjà vu, huh).


Hair, as he'd found out following its shortly-cropped run for the few years before his release, was a very versatile thing. While there were lots of things he could do to it if he kept it long (for example: braids, pig-tails, emo-ish-ly draped over his eyes like a vampire, etc. etc), he'd probably tried most of them already. In turn, he knew short hair could work wonders as well (his poor, poor eardrums played witness to that), but he hadn't experimented fully with it. Yet.

(Granted, it all sounded very smart and exciting during its early stages of planning, but if he'd known what was going to happen, he'd probably have kept that little idea in its early stages and denied its evolvement.)

A few weeks later, he stared at himself in the mirror and had to lean on the wall to keep himself from dropping to the floor and laughing his guts out.

His new haircut, simply put, made him look like a girl.

(This time, Jay wasn't around anymore, having run off to the very same rival company he'd found himself in years ago. Shawn politely refrained from asking.)

Matt was the one who voiced his thoughts, and while yes, he really did agree that he looked like a girl, it was far too much fun to watch Matt lock all his hair products away to tell him that.

Oh, well.

It wasn't the first time he'd made a bad decision concerning his precious hair.

(Maybe next time he'll try going bald.)


Constructive criticism is welcomed. This fic probably has more mistakes than my previous ones, because this was more a spur-of-the-moment thing. Please tell me if there are any spelling/grammatical mistakes.

Thanks.