[1] 𝐊𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐃𝐎𝐌 𝐂𝐎𝐌𝐄 ― p.jackson ✓

004.

「004. the hair wasn't her fault  」

LOOK. THE hair was not her fault. she'd had some time before the whole campfire thing- and there was only so many times she could say no to layla before she actually cracked. layla, although older and definitely somewhat mature, was more of a goofy older sister to cadie. the kind that was rebellious but gave good advice and kind of stuck up for you no matter what. and so yes- with full confidence, cadie diaz can blame layla jamess for almost everything that happened to her hair.

in all fairness, it wasn't bad- no. not at all. if anything it was amazing. her wavy brown- bordeling black hair was something so dull and boring that she was even secretly (yet terribly stubbornly) happy about it. layla had grabbed her, then chopped her hair to just an inch or so below her shoulder and the two very front pieces were dyed. not just blond- no. layla had went a step further. she'd grabbed from the big wall behind her bed that was solely made of hair dye boxes and hd pulled the on in the middle.

"silver?" cadie said in a deadpanned tone, "not very golden of you, layla."

"it's why i'm using this for you now," shrugged layla as she put the plastic gloves on her hand, "it's fun, isn't it? great bonding experience for us, di-di!"

"i hate you. so much right now," grumbled cadie, trying to hide her smile.

"nonsense!" grinned layla, "now... the dye."

she'd already cut her hair, so cadie got most of the nerves and anxiety out of her. layl stood in front of her, her tongue stuck out as she sectioned off to strands of her front her. she glared at the strands for a few moments, before saying, "eh."

"eh? eh? oh don't mind me- what the hades does that mean?" squeaked cadie.

"it's just.... no- maybe i should cut the front a bit- so it frames your face," decided layla, "it would actually bring so much more..."

"i'm a thirteen year old not some middle aged woman who wants to change her life after a divorce," cadie said in a bland tone, "save the whole 'token gay hairdresser' talk for a reality tv show."

"i'll have you know i'm the token queer."

"good for you," sighed cadie, "good for you."

"you say that as if you aren't the token bise-"

"just do it then, why don't you?" grumbled cadie, "just go dye my poor hair."

"it's gonna take a few tries. but we have time," grinned layla, "let's get to work!"

changing you hair from dark brown- bordering black hair to blonde and then to dye it to silver takes a lot of work. however she was surprisingly... well, surprised by the outcome. layla had done a good job. (she didn't know why she was questioning this since layla practically dyed her hair every week with a new colour and there was still no sign of damaged hair. if the whole archery and music thing ever stopped- layla could totally make it in the hairdressing industry). after quickly drying her hair, she turned her around to the mirror.

"what do we think?" layla said, elongating the word 'think' for a tad too long.

she touched her head. it felt soft, well conditioned and it didn't look terrible. the two strands in front of her face made her look pretty, and although they weren't cut to frame her face like layla had suggested, it still looked amazing.

"wow," cadie spoke, "that looks-"

"amazing? i know," grinned layla, "right. now lets get to the campfire."