Eye of the Storm

Story 9

We had already finished two shows and we now have a whole 2 days off. Zach is busy with his family, so is Barry. And Eric is busy working with another band, writing songs. Me I don't know what to do. My son was all the way across the country, so I couldn't hang out with him. I sit in my hotel room trying to find something to do. I turn on my phone and get on to a few social media accounts. I look around the room, it was completely silent. I decide to start a q&a live steam on twitter. I hadn't done one in a while, so why not?

Within seconds a bunch of people begin to come on. I start getting the usual question of coming to different states and countries, things I can't really give too much away, along with new album questions. People also began to constantly ask about my hair.

I saw one about my hair, then another, then another, and so on. They all had the most specific questions like "how long are you gonna have It grown out to?", "will you ever cut it short again?", "will you die it red?", "why'd you decide to grow it out?", it was just filling the page.

"Okay so alot of you guys are asking a bunch of questions about my hair,"  I let out a little chuckle. "But to answer y'alls questions truthfully, my son wanted to see me again with long hair, I also wanted to change up my look again and it's began to be too much work to go in and get it cut more often so I figured i would try growing it out again." I take off the hat I was wearing and ruffle my hair.
"But as you guys can all see, its kinda at an awkward stage at the moment so, who knows, I may just get tired of it and cut it off again, never know. But it has been annoying trying to figure how I should have it during performances. I kinda do plan to go back and forth, try to look a little different every now and then"

After a few more questions, I sign off and get some dinner. I walk over to a small cafe near the hotel and get some food to go.

I walk over to the restroom to wash my hands as I catch a glimpse of my self in the mirror. I stand there and I begin to mess around with my hair trying to figure out what to do with it.

1 week later

I find myself in front of another mirror again, this time I think I made a decision on what to do with this hair.

I walk down to a small local barber shop and decide to cut it back short again.

They get me in a chair after a few minutes and I sit there as they swiftly cut of locks of my hair. A little while later they finish and I head back up to my hotel room.

Again I look at my self in the mirror and I run my fingers through my newly trimmed hair.

Did I make the right choice?