"What the hell Allen?!" Rachel flipped, holding the hand mirror within an inch of her face. "This isn't what I asked for!" Her previously long hair lay scattered on the floor. "Yeah, I thought you could use a touch up" He smirked as he clicked the scissors in his hands. "This definitely is better than what you were doing. It's sad girl your age can't seem to take care of herself" he leaned over her. Rachel didn't know what was more uncomfortable, feeling his chest against the tops of her shoulder blades or his fingers lingering along her cheeks. They played with the newly golden hair of her layered bob cut. "Your face isn't too bad and this cut emphasizes the small amount of femininity you have" he chuckled.

So funny.

"Allen, I just asked for a quick trim" Her knuckles grew white around the mirror. "I trimmed you" She steamed. Why the hell did she go to him after what he did to Henry, her brother, just a week ago? Henry never was the type to take care of himself. Always covered in caked dirt and damp from sweat, he would have pieces of straw sticking out from his hair from lying in the hay piles in the barns.

When his hair had matted into harden tufts, he went to Allen. "I just need my hair cleaned out, you know?" He later recalled as he told the story. He removed his beaten newsboy cap and held it in his lap. Besides from the usual slew of insult-woven comments, Allen slung the barber cloth over Henry. Back where the siblings are from, during a cut the stylist spends their time opening up conversation with short narratives and open ended questions. Allen though- if it didn't concern him, he wasn't interested. He spent the whole time talking about something or other regarding himself. The only time the conversation broke was when Allen would focus on his job, stepping back and becoming silent. And Harvest Goddess forbid, Henry tried to talk to Allen during these times! "Could you not?" Allen would quickly hush.

It's not fair to say "conversation" because a conversation requires at least two participants. And if Henry did try to speak during one of Allen's available talk-times either about the farm or the town then it would somehow boomerang back to Allen. Henry tends to be quiet. Not shy, he just likes thoughtful silence so he just hung back and tallied his fingers. Occasionally he would look to the large vanity mirror in front of him. What came next was brutal. Allen had his hands busy tugging and yanking the comb through. The dirt went deep. Beneath the broken top layer of split ends, he tore at the gritty dirt clumped mats. "What the hell Henry? Don't you ever wash!?" Allen admonished through clicks of his tongue. He'd yank so hard, Henry was whip lashed by it. Forward, then back, side to side, his head flung-though he tried resisting- with the inherited motion of the comb. His eyes were red in the mirror. Ripping and scrubbing, Allen forced his head back into the sink and almost drowned him there. Henry had just managed to keep his nose above the water long enough to breath. The water was warm along his nape and upper back when he rose for the last time. Turning his over his shoulder just enough, Henry could see the brown murky gunk being drained down the sink. Allen forced him back to the chair in front of the vanity. Henry was stunned at the sopping wet figure reflected. His hair was clumped in some sections and longer in the others. After another tear and rip session, Allen had decided it was a lost cause and just started snipping. Before Henry knew what had happened, snippets of his hair wafted down to the floor. A clump fell onto his nose, dirty clump and all. It wasn't until an hour or so since the cut should've ended that Rachel noticed him back on the farm. She felt his sullen presence and turned to him. His shoulders were hitched and he kept his back to her.

"Henry, what is it?" Rachel was tending to the fenced-in chickens. She flicked the brim of her hat up, the sun was blaring. It was an especially hot day in summer. Henry looked strange but was hard to discern through the heat waves.

"I'll be in the barn" she heard through a mutter. Something about the way he said it let his big sis know something was amiss. She finished filling the chicken feeders and followed his path. The barn is usually his domain but as they acquired more animals, Rachel began tended to them too. Henry was in among the alpacas. He was the only one who they wouldn't scurry away from. They are so skittish and Rachel just sets them over edge. "Henry" she called. He held the brush to the alpaca's fur. She approached him from behind. The first thing she noticed was that beneath the back of his cap, where his hair grows just above the nape of his neck, was considerably lighter- not the thick patches of hair that usually hung there. She proceeded in her path. "Henry what is it?..." Her voice trailed as she came within a few feet of him. His shoulders were tensed.

"Seriously what is it? You're freaking me out" She chuckled. She turned to the a suffolk brushing the her leg. "Oh, but nice hair cut- I thought you were going in for a washing but that's cool-"

"I Hate it!" He turned to her abruptly, scattering the alpaca in fright. His hand extended towards her, it was bandaged. "Damn him!" His face was strange to her, where his usual dark bangs hung, his forehead and brows, that usually were tucked away, were visible. His newsboy cap, which usually covered his matted and puffy hair was now loosely wrapped around his crown. "He didn't even wait before he started snipping" His hair now was no longer than a few centimeters. He pleaded as though she could give him his hair back. "What happened to your hand?" She wasn't too concerned besides the fact that between the two of them, someone always is sporting a bandage to two. All she knew was that he didn't have it this morning.

"Well… you see…"

In a flash of anger after Allen unveiled his new look, Henry propelled his fist through the vanity mirror- successfully shattering it. Allen warded him off with his two-inch clippers. Rachel recalled that story as she sat in the salon chair with the tiny hand mirror held in her tightly gripped hand. The vanity mirror still hadn't been replaced. Allen had the nerve to request a replacement from the two of them the next day. Henry refused to make it on account of his honor. "Well, you know Allen, I liked my long hair" She gritted through clenched teeth. He brushed through it, tossing her head slightly. "Don't worry, this is a good look on you. I couldn't stand looking at you tossing that long brittle hair of yours. The color was dull like wheat in those fields of yours. This golden color is so much better"

"Allen you asshat!" She ejected herself from the seat and swung that hand mirror at him. "Hey, calm down. I don't see why you're so mad, I improved your beauty! Now you don't have to run around the town with birds trying to nest in your hair" She swung at him again. "You're just like your brother" he laughed, a little nervous raise in his tone. "I'm going to kill you Allen" She slung the mirror at him. It whizzed by his head almost at the speed of light and scattered on the wall behind him. "Well you can add that to the order" he tapped his foot. He glanced up from the broken remnants to see Rachel removing the sickle from her rucksack. "And just what do you plan to do with that?"

That night over dinner, Henry was passing the bowl of rice to Rachel. "You know Rach, your hair looks kinda nice short" She received the bowl. "Yeah, well I still don't like it. What about you?" Henry sighed and patted his cap. "Well on the good side I don't have trouble putting my cap on my head anymore, though I do miss my hair" Rachel smiled. "About that…" she leaned over to her rucksack. "I got you something for you" she lifted her rucksack onto the table and dumped its contents. Clumps of red hair littered the table.