After writing fics to justify Vlad's usage of his dorky shower cap I got to thinking...

What if he just spent his entire time at college dying his hair to hide the fact that he started to go gray when he was 15? Then the shower cap suddenly gains legitimacy.

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Nineteen year old Vlad Masters glared at the mirror, nude save for the towel slung low around his waist. He silently cursed whatever force left him with this horrifying, disfiguring curse. Genetics, gods, whatever did this to him he was going to hate it to his dying day.

He was the only guy in the dorms with gray hair.

Vlad growled at the reflection, his blue eyes flashing in anger. He took a deep breath, dampening that anger into mere frustration as he grabbed the box on the counter. He knew the directions; he was very familiar with them. Far too familiar. He snapped on a pair of gloves, wrapped a junky, dye-streaked towel around his neck, bent his head down, and started combing the dye into his hair from the nape up.

And then the bathroom door opened.

Vlad hated the dorm bathrooms. There were only two bathroom stalls and one toilet was always disgusting from clogs or vomit or someone just not flushing. The three shower stalls had no doors on them, only curtains that didn't actually stay where they were put, barely providing the illusion of privacy. The floor was always sticky or worse, the mirror smeared with streaks, and one sink never stopped running. But the worst part of it had nothing to do with the substandard plumbing and everything to do with his floormates.

"Woof, it smells like burnt something!" crowed a voice. Vlad could hear the nasty grin. "Oh. Never mind it's just Vlad dying his hair again."

Vlad growled but didn't look up. The last time he did that his hair had flipped everywhere and he was scrubbing black streaks out of his skin for a week. He tried to ignore it, instead focusing on trying to comb the pasty gel through every strand of gray and graying hair.

"Now that's concentration." Vlad grit his teeth at the voice and its owner standing right next to him, close enough to wrap his arm around Vlad's shoulders.

"Well you know my grandma says you gotta concentrate. Otherwise you'll miss a bit and then you'll have this big white streak." Vlad held back a snarl at the second voice. He could see the vague silhouette leaning against the wall without a care in the world.

"Hey, yeah! I remember that one time where you missed a bunch and you looked like my grandpa."

Vlad slammed a hand down on the counter. He was surrounded by the mocking laughter of his tormentors, idiots who had no concept of what he was going through. But he wasn't going to rise to their bait. He had a date tomorrow and he had to look good. If that meant putting up with these blond idiots and their lack of gray hairs then fine. He picked up the comb again and got back to work combing the dye into his hair. He was almost done anyway. He combed the last of the dye into his widows peak then flipped his head back with as much force as he could muster.

"Hey! What the fuck!"

Vlad smirked as drops of dye flicked back behind him, splattering the guy leaning against the wall. He twisted his hair into a ball and stuffed it into a shower cap so the dye could set. "Oh I'm sorry," Vlad said with a smirk. "I didn't see you back there. Surely your grandmother must have warned you about that." He collected his stuff and sauntered out of the bathroom.

"Nice shower cap," he heard shouted after him.

"Shut up," Vlad mumbled as he headed back to his dorm room. He had to wait an hour before he could wash this stuff out of his hair and then all the gray hairs would be gone.

For a few weeks at least.