A/N: I finally bought a home computer, so I can start writing fanfictions again! Expect copious amounts of angst, sex and snarky comments.
This is AU, John's a student in hairschool, who needs his work hours, and gets hired by hair mogel Sherlock, who runs him ragged. Finally, John can't take it anymore.
Rating might raise in later chapters depending on what I feel like doing next.
Since this is AU, it's also not set in London. I tried, I did, but it's now set in Abbotsford, BC.
Shut up, it's still good.
(Cassie is NOT an 'OC', this is a Shwatsonlock story, but this is based to an extent on my days at hair school, and i'm just trying to detail it as much as possible. But slash fans, don't worry, she's just a good friend. Not a self-insertion either!)
Of Shampoo and Sheers.
"In order to pass this course, you need 800 hours outside of class time in the salon setting. By the end of February you should all have jobs, otherwise it's going to be difficult for any of you to get enough hours."
The class of 16 groaned. Only 4 of them actually had a position in a salon, the rest hadn't been so lucky. The teacher rolled her eyes at the teenagers, why she had ever accepted the role of teaching STUDENTS the fine art of hair design was a mystery, no, it wasn't, the money was fantastic. Teenagers, however, were not as fantastic.
"That's easy for you to say, everywhere I ask says to come back when I have experience, but I need that job to GET experience!" A sulky girl with blue hair whined. John scoffed, he wasn't having any success finding a job either, but you didn't hear him complaining. He put his head back down onto his desk, his skin was starting to itch under the scratchy fabric. He hated the class, he hated being around the same people every single day, he hated the dress code, he hated the complaints, the arguments, everything. And it only started a couple weeks ago. The thought of having the endure this torture for another full year made him want to cry.
"Hey, John, where have you applied?" The small ginger girl sitting next to him asked. She was the only person in the class that would talk to him without making a snide comment, he smiled politely at her, not wanting to lose his one friend in the class.
"Umm, that new store that opened up downtown, by the pawn shop...Envirotrends in the mall by the knife shop, and then Chatters down by Zellers." John sighed, he hadn't exactly put in his best effort either, showing up in a pale cream jumper and cordory slacks, handing in his resume with a simple 'Hey'.
"Really, no luck? I'm sure someone will hire you soon, just keep trying. Try the chains, they can afford assisstants, the small mom-and-pop shops are less likely to be able to afford helpers." Cassie, the red haired girl grinned. She was really shy, but gorgeous in every form. She already had a job apprenticing for a popular company in town, she was one of the lucky ones.
"Quiet you two, alright, next task, open your books and do the worksheet that goes along with it. Pages in the text book 303-338, due on Friday." The instructor hobbled over to the board to write it down, the class sighed in unison, and John felt the increasing urge to shove his curling iron up all of their arses.
"Oh thank God. See you tomorrow Cassie!" John got up from his seat, feeling the sweat on his chest roll in beads down his stomach. It was scorching in the small tin portable they were taught in, and wearing a thick wool sweater all day only turned his body into a raging inferno. He quickly grabbed the heavy stack of textbooks on his desk and raced out the door as quickly as he could, not even nodding a goodbye to any of his classmates; they enraged him, they didn't deserve a departing glance.
"John! John, wait!" He heard the teacher's old voice shriek from just outside the door. Heaving a moan of exhaustion and prolonged suffering, he trudged back up the stairs into the portable, lifting his head up. His bangs clung to his forehead from all the sweat, God, he really had to get home to shower and change.
"Yes Nadia?" He asked, reffering to his teacher by first name-as she determined they should on the first day of classes.
"Have you found a job yet? You really only have a week, or else you'll be working a lot more then you have to be." She asked, she really was looking in for his best interests, John wasn't like everyone else, it took him almost three days to create fingerwaves, whilst everyone else was already done those AND pincurls. He didn't have the natural creativity, to be honest, he really only signed up for the class to get out of a years worth of academics and get a headstart of SOME sort of career. If he never succeeded at what he really wanted to do-he had something to fall back on. However, he wouldn't be able to fall back on it if he continued to suck so much.
"No, I tried, really, but I can't." He hung his head low, hoping she wouldn't notice his haphazard grooming.
"Nichole quit her job at Picasso's, but it's on the other side of town, can you drive? I asked her to put your name in to her boss, i've seen your artistry from your sketchbooks. Your ideas are brilliant, you just need to learn application skills. I think it would be a great place for you to work, they can teach you the skills. They aren't as hands on as a lot of places that students usually get into, but they are far more knowledgable. They do expect a lot more from you though. Would you be able to see them this weekend? Say Hello to the manager? They win at the ABA nearly every single year since they opened, I'd love to see what you would be able to do with their help." The instructor shook his hand, smiling. She tried her best to be liked by her students, but the problem with teacher high school kids is that they just aren't serious enough, even though she see's potential in many students, there's only a few she thinks have the real skill it takes in this profession.
John blinked a couple times, he really didn't want to hand out anymore resume's. Nodding slightly, he smiled back at his teacher.
"Yes, of course! Thank you so much!" He said hurridly, turning around to see which students remained, not wanting to seem rude. Luckily, Nichole was still in the room.
"Thanks Nichole!" He yelled, probably too loudly, he flinched cautiously. He resembled a timid hedgehog to the teacher. He was very shy, stand-offish, even. He only talked to a couple people. The teacher knew it was probably a bit of a ruse, she had witnessed John letting go of his barriers in the salon room, she personally moved all his stuff to the other side of the room because him and Cassie talked obsessively, loudly, distracting themselves from the actual tasks. She was loud, and he was louder, that's why it made her wonder why, when they were in the quiet of the classroom, he put back up all his shields, and bunkered down inside all his layers of clothing.
"No worries, good luck though, you don't need to take the job, trust me, your co-workers will infuriate you to no end. It's not a good place to start out in." Nichole shrugged, gathering her books and leaving. John looked up at his teacher, raising an eyebrow.
"But you're a guy, guy's always have it easier in this industry." She stuck her head back in the door just to make that comment. John sniggered slightly. As true as it was, he couldn't see himself ever being a popular hairdresser, male or not.
"I don't care, I'm grateful to be considered for the job." He shrugged, trying to sound nonchalant about the ordeal. Internally, he was having a minor panic attack, he had to research this place, find out it's practices, his future co-workers, their reputation, everything. He couldn't just walk in blind and expect everything to be handed to him.
"She's right you know. As sexist as it sounds, men have it easier in this industry. You're always supposed to make your clients feel special, like they're your only client, and coming from a man, women fall head over heels for that. Although that being said, most men in the industry are gay." Nadia smirked, patting John on the shoulder. He winced, knowing his sweater was probably damp due to the combination of the humidity of the room and the persperation soaked into the wool.
"Well i'm not gay, but I am a man, that's one out of two..." John smiled, tapping his fingers against his thigh rapidly, itching to get out of the room. Nadia could tell, she had high hopes for John, or maybe it was sympathy? Maybe she could tell he wasn't good at this, and is just trying to help him through the course. They had eleven months left, he wasn't going to survive without any help.
"I'll give the owner your name, go see them on Saturday if you can, hand in your resume, make a good impression." She nodded, not touching his shoulder, John noticed. She must have felt how damp the fabric was, he suddenly felt a wave of self consciousness again. He blushed deeply, his face already red from the heat, he really just wanted to leave, he started tapping his fingers again, his eyes fixated on the floor. Was it even possible for a floor to look so dirty?
"See you tomorrow, John." She said, waving him in dismissal, he perked up, flashing her his teeth in a grin, nodding furiously, his bangs unmoving against his skin, he could almost feel the relief of the breeze against his skin-so close, he was getting anxious now.
"Yes, tomorrow, bye!" He walked at a furious pace, not wanting to seem hurried regardless of how blatantly obvious it was. He picked up his books from where he had discarded them, throwing his backpack over his shoulder, textbooks under his arm as he started his walk home. So close, he could could the steps it took to get back to his house, it was only a fifteen minute walk, and it felt like a lifetime having to heave all of the books along with the bulbous backpack. It was January and there was still a good two feet of snow on the unplowed walkways and fields he had to cross, but his body was on fire. He couldn't stand being trapped in the enclosed space for that long period of time in his thick jumpers. He laughed, he looked at the other teenagers adorned in gloves, scarves, parka's and touques, and here he was wanting to strip himself of clothing to cool off.
"Hopefully they like me enough to give me this job, then I can just get this course over and done with so I never have to touch another single head of hair." He breathed out to simply no one. He knew he wasn't cut out for this profession, ever since he thought that 'product' meant shampoo. His sandy blonde hair was wiped from his brow by his stout fingers, he was started to feel his body temperature cooling off. Only eleven more months, that's it, that's all he had to get through until he was finished and he can finish off the last semester of high school before graduation.
Before he can go back to being a jeans and t-shirt normal teenager working a simple job at a chain grocery store or clothing outlet. Before he can stop pretending to be good at all this. Sure, it was only a couple of weeks, but you can tell when you have a knack for something, right?
"I won't quit, I won't quit...I just have to find a way to make this easier." He whispered to himself, mentally planning the outfit he was going to wear to the shop.
A/N: Oh boy, well...next chapter will be posted soon! Hopefully tomorrow, but let's not get ambitious.