𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄 𝐋𝐀𝐍𝐆𝐔𝐀𝐆𝐄 | 𝐊𝐕

I.

Mid morning sun poured through the wide glass windows of the barbershop, casting a warm and golden glow over the leather chairs and faded posters tacked on the wall.

Ezrah stood over his client, clippers humming in his hand as he guided them along the man's hairline, as the mixed smell of after shave and fresh cut hair filled the room. It all blended in with the low murmur of talks and laughter around them.

"It's always the last leg of the parlay that gets fucked up. I'm bout to stop betting on the Bulls." Ace called out from his station, a few chairs down. He leaned back in his seat, he had his phone in his hand as he watched highlights from the game last night.

Ezrah laughed under his breath and lifted the cape from his clients shoulders with a snap, "You keep talking shit and I'm telling you, we gon make it this year."

His client, Reggie, an older man with graying hair, let out a deep laugh and slapped the arm rest. "Been hearing that shit for years now. Back when Rose had a good leg, still ain't seen no ring."

Keon smirked before shaking his head. "Tell him again OG, Rose out in New York and the Bulls stuck in the past. It's done for them."

Taking a step back from the chair, Ezrah took a moment to look at the fade he had just completed. Double checking his work like he always did, before he held up a mirror so the old man could see it too.

"I'm gon let you keep talking cause yo' ass love to hate on some shit. But when they make it to the playoffs, you need to be front row in a Bulls jersey."

Keon laughed so hard that he almost dropped his phone, "I'd put on a Clippers Jersey before I ever did some shit like that."

Reggie handed over two twenty dollar bills and shook his head with a laugh, "Sound like y'all betting some money on it the way you talking."

Keon shrugged. "Might as well be. Ezrah been on this since forever."

"You scared," Ezrah sat down in his chair just as Reggie got up and walked off. "It's cool though, I'd do the same if my team was trash."

"Here we go..." He began, but the bell above the door jingled, interrupting their back-and-forth.

Ezrah glanced toward the entrance, his playful smirk fading when he saw Harlem walk in — earlier than he should have. Everyone in the shop turned to look at the kid, the sudden silence hanging awkwardly in the air.

"Hold on." He called and then frowned after he glanced at the clock on the wall. "Thought you was supposed to be in school or something. You had half a day or some?"

Keon sat up, his eyes narrowed as he looked at the younger male. "Nah. It's supposed to be a full day for them."

Harlem wasn't supposed to be here until after school, and the fact that he was standing in the shop in the middle of the day, with a red mark on his chin and his shirt looking all fucked up, set off alarms in Ezrah's head.