❄ Cold Relations ❄ [SEVENTEEN] ✓

Chapter 26: A Tongueful of Secrets (i.e. Jeonghan's Hair Salon)

The following morning, Jeonghan awoke at the stroke of dawn, climbed out of bed, and seated himself on the stool by the vanity. While the others slept in, he rummaged through the drawers for a hairbrush and found one under a stash of colorful plastic combs, nail polishes, and perfumes. On the other side were bottles of hair dye, shampoo, and conditioner, as well as a hairdryer, straightener, and curling iron. Jeonghan removed the items from the drawers and lined them up in front of the mirror. "We could have some fun with these."

Scooping up the hair products in his arms, Yoon took them out into the lobby and shifted some furniture around until it fit the vision in his mind's eye. Two leather chairs faced the windows overlooking the pool, and the mirror from the vanity had been removed and placed in front of the glass so that customers could easily check their reflections. All his supplies were neatly arranged on a small table, well within arm's reach, as Jeonghan had come prepared.

Around this time, the hotel guests trickled into the lobby, still dressed in their pajamas. Vernon stifled a yawn. "What's for breakfast?"

"The8 found a box of stale cereal at the market." Hoshi ruffled his scruff of untidy blond hair. "There's also some powdered milk in the kitchen."

Jeonghan was standing with his back to them. Woozi cautiously traced his fingers over the arm of a chair and cocked his head to the side. "What are you doing?"

"I'm glad you asked." Jeonghan whipped around with a curling iron in hand, straight-faced, as if he'd been waiting for this moment. "Angel Yoon's Salon is now open for business!"

Woozi shook his head and backed away. "No thank you. Mingyu's had a lot of practice as a hair stylist, but I still wouldn't let him anywhere near me with a curling iron. You'll have to find someone else to be your guinea pig."

"Take me!" Woozi started; The8 had appeared out of nowhere.

Jeonghan picked up a bottle of reddish-purple dye and a straightener. "What would you like done?"

The8 draped the sheet over his shoulders and flopped down in the chair. "I don't care what you do. Just get rid of the curls. I've had too many people tell me my head looks like grilled pork belly."

"I'll do my best, but I can't guarantee a miracle." Jeonghan dampened The8's hair with a fine mist, picked up the flat iron, and steamed the curls away. Halfway through the process, he thought, What kind of salon am I running if there isn't any gossip? I guess I'll just have to create some. "Tell me, The8..."

Minghao looked up.

"...what was it like being a spy?"

The8's shoulders tensed. "Very... very stressful. Jun offered me the assignment, and I accepted. But then I got greedy for more work, and I tracked Mingyu down to the cathedral in the hopes that he would take me on and pay me well. But he turned me away like the shrewd salesman that I was, and I'm actually quite grateful, for it would have been hard to handle two jobs at once."

"So, you enjoyed it, then."

"What?"

"You talk about it like you enjoyed it."

The8 was speechless, but it didn't take him long to find his voice and a little savagery. "Why don't you focus on fixing my hair, instead of digging through my past like you have a right to know?"

"As you wish. I was just trying to make some conversation." Jeonghan rubbed some Vaseline along the frame of The8's face, so the reddish-purple dye wouldn't stain his skin. Starting from the back, he used careful brush strokes to paint the color into his friend's hair.