"you say it's because of my age, girl, but age ain't nothing but a number"
*
a story of which a mother of two finds herself entangled with her son's best friend, jungkook.
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I deftly wove twists on the toddler's thick coily hair, the twists demanding a gentle touch and precision.
As my fingers navigated the intricate coils, the strain on my hands whispered of the physical demands inherent in our craft. Each twist, each delicate section meticulously styled, held the weight of expertise and dedication.
I listened to the hum of dryers, the gentle chatter of clients, and the crisp sound of Daniel shuffling through papers. The mahogany-stained countertop held an array of hair products.
"Jada, these numbers ain't making sense," Daniel said, his tone tinged with concern, his Brooklyn accent softening the worry in his words.
I paused my nimble fingers' dance through the hair, meeting Daniel's gaze. "Yeah. I know. I heard there's a new joint a few blocks down. A new celebrity hairstylist— Carlissa Monroe." I explained to Daniel the sudden decrease in profit for this month.
"Oh word? So what? No game plan?" Daniel cocked his brow at me.
"Nope. I think the reason why we do so well is our authenticity. We don't gotta play into alla those celebrity endorsements— so we'll let them be them, let us be us. Our profits will pick back up in no time if we keep doing what we good at. It's all good." I reassured Daniel, with a smile and he nodded his head.
"Moments like these I remember why you're a good business partner, Jada. You got your head screwed on. You know exactly what to do in moments like these. That's why we work so well." Daniel lightly poked my side with his pen, teasingly. A deep chuckle escaped me. "You're glowing today by the way," he suddenly mentioned, making my smile widen.
"Thanks, Dan." I beamed as he sauntered to his section, tending to an elderly gent patiently waiting for his cut, his nose buried in the day's news.
The moment Daniel moved, I sensed Kimberly's mischievous gaze fixed on me. "Girl, don't even go there," I warned, recognizing that playful look.
"I ain't doin' nothin'," she sassily retorted, a wide smirk plastered on her face. "Just sayin', y'all need to quit playin'."
"He is single, Miss Jada." Mary, my apprentice, said encouragingly. "He's fine. He got a job. No kids. A lil older. He knows your kids— he loves your kids. He's been dropping hints this whole time and you been ignoring them—"
"He's just a colleague guys." I deadpanned, finishing the last twist on the toddler's head. "All done, baby. Lookin' real pretty," I grinned, witnessing a shy smile as she blushed, hiding her face in her jacket.
"Thanks, Jada. Don't know what me and Harmony would do without you. These new fancy stylists charge an arm and a leg, but Natural Essence always comes through." Harmony's mother handed me some cash, gratitude in her smile.
"Only doing my job. You go have yourself a lovely day, Mrs Johnson. Bye Harmony!" I waved as the mother and daughter made their exit. As they exited the building, I meticulously cleaned my array of styling tools, each utensil catching the glint of the salon lights before my hands plunged into the basin for a thorough wash.
