If it had been up to her, this would've never happened, but much to her own disgrace she didn't control the strings of fate, she was the puppet. Emma had also never believed in that corny line of "you make your own path". No. That was the crappy kind of nonsense people tell each other in order to convince themselves they had some sort of choice; that they got to make decisions. When she was a youngster she had accepted the fact that her life was a book with no blank pages, everything was already written, and every "decision" she made was supposed to get her somewhere she was meant to be. Then she had found out about the curse and discovered she was the savior; that had been the last straw, she was definitely the marionette. So while she sat in that chair, facing the mirror and watching how the hairdresser cut her hair, Emma cursed her odds.

This is what happens when you try to do magic without supervision…

Neither Regina nor Gold had been able to teach her, well, continue to teach her, and with each passing day Emma found herself more eager to learn, to become more than just an occasional witch or magician or whatever the hell she was supposed to be. That was when a spell backfired and set her hair on fire, ruining a great part of it; Emma would never admit it out loud but she loved –fuck, she freaking worshipped her golden hair and now it was being chopped.

"Well, I tried to not cut so much…" the woman said as she gave her final snips. Emma grunted and then released a breath she'd been holding for way too long. From the front the difference was barely noticeable, but the back was a completely different tale. Fucking hell.

Emma prayed it didn't look like the old fashioned Mullet.

"Business in the front, party in the back," Emma looked at the woman who had cut her hair through the mirror, and smiled wistfully "how bad does it look?" the question was popped out with a nervousness that overcame the natural basis.

Half-closing her eyes, Emma dreadfully waited for the answer. God she hated cutting her hair, especially under these circumstances.

"To be honest, if we consider how it used to look, and how it looks now, I swear I made magic" fine, the woman was by no means humble and too direct for her taste, Emma also shivered a little when she mentioned the thing about doing magic. Nope, she didn't want anything to do with magic right now.

Trying to suppress as much as she could the irony playing in her vocal cords, Emma thanked her for being her savior and then told her to please hand her a smaller mirror so she could take a quick peek at the back, Emma didn't want to spend more time than the necessary looking at that. The hairdresser spun the chair so Emma could appreciate the outcome, when Emma finally adjusted the mirror and found the back of her reflection on the bigger one, she gasped. God it was short, the length of her hair was now just a couple inches below her shoulders, in a V cut… and some tips had a funky color due to the burning.

"I got to say this is better than I'd expected," Emma angled the mirror in order to get a better view "it's been years since I had it this short…" then she sighed and had a little flashback to her childhood, she wasn't fond of going back to those memories so she shrugged them away "What's your name again?" Emma asked her.

"Rapunzel" she said nonchalantly as she crossed her arms just above her chest. Emma held back her laughter.

No fucking way…

Just when she thought Storybrooke couldn't surprise her anymore, there was another fairy tale character yet to meet. This time it was Rapunzel. But her hair was not long at all, in fact, it looked a lot like the pixie cut Mary Margaret wore, and it was bright pink. Why were hairstylists so extravagant? Once Emma felt steady enough to talk without her voice cracking, she lifted her eyes to the woman whom was supposed to have the longest hair ever.

"Thank you very much, Rapunzel" she said.

Rapunzel seemed to be pacing back and forth between thoughts, pondering whether she should say something or stay quiet. A few more seconds of inner struggle passed and then she placed her hands on Emma's shoulders; who was still sitting immersed in some kind of shock.

"Your tips look awful still," she pointed out and earned a glare from Emma "we can dye them, make some highlights… Give life to your hair again!" then Rapunzel stuffed her hands in her hair.

"Why the hell not? Let's do it"

She was still wearing the same old red jacket, a pair of jeans and high-cut boots, yet nobody recognized her as she made her way through town. Emma was sure that at least four of the twelve people she had crossed paths with would've stopped and exchanged some words with her, even if it was as simple as saying hello. Storybrooke was a small town, everyone knew each other; Emma thought it was weird to have people passing by a stranger and don't even come to a halt to look at them, maybe they felt her presence as something familiar and setting eyes on her wasn't really necessary; but hell, as soon as she turned around a corner, a pair of blue eyes laid on her immediately.

Emma felt her heartbeat quickening as he approached her; she didn't know why he was in town, he hardly ever left the docks, but damn he had chosen a hell of a time to come visit. She hated how confident his walking was, hated how his eyes never left her –as if she were some kind of prey and he got to be the hunter.

"What happened to your hair, Emma?"

She let out a tired sigh and accepted the fact that he was probably going to be the first of the many people who were going to ask her the same question, over and over again…

"A spell went wrong…" she absent-mindedly looked down and fixed her eyes on the tip of her boots; admitting she'd done something wrong ashamed her, but Emma still couldn't bring herself to lie to him about it. Let him see her as the unexperienced witch she truly was, Killian Jones was one of the few people who actually saw her, therefore she needn't worry about being perfect around him.

"Practicing on your own again?" the smug grin on his face could be heard in his voice, Emma didn't require looking up at him to know he was smiling like that.

Emma just nodded in agreement and then was forced to fix her sight on him. Killian cupped her face with his hand and stared at her profoundly, examining her like some scientist would do with a test subject.

"To be honest, lass, I loved your hair before," Killian ran his fingers along her scalp, making her shiver "but you look amazingly beautiful with this new hairstyle of yours" then he smiled and tangled one finger playfully in one of her bangs.

Once upon a time having him doing that with her hair would've bothered her, she'd push him away and lecture him about in how many ways that was wrong; but now Emma enjoyed his touch, his company.

"What are you doing here? In town, I mean" the words came out like a whisper; it was hard to find her voice when he was just getting closer and closer.

"Walking a bit to change my surroundings, and hoping that I would eventually run into you" Killian was seducing right then and there, on the sidewalk…. And she couldn't care less.

"You ran into me, now what?"

"Now I'm inviting you to come along with me and allow me to buy you a drink" Emma pressed her forehead to his and stood still, she practically grunted out a "yes" as he leaned in to kiss her.

"You're cheating on my daughter, you stupid bastard…" David's voice came out of nowhere, surprising the both of them as David grabbed Killian by the shoulder and turned him around, the grip on his leather coat stronger than ever and his free hand curled up in a fist, ready to hit him straight on the face when he suddenly realized who the girl Killian was with was. The prince loosened his clenched fist and let go of the pirate's coat as he stared at Emma.

"Emma? What happened to your hair?" he asked bewildered.

Again, I don't know where the hell did this come from.