Chapter Text
Zayn hated Anna.
Okay, that wasn’t true…most days. But Zayn hated Anna when she asked him to open the salon at 10:30 on a Saturday morning when he never did anything before 1 P.M. usually. It was to “handle the clients”, she had said.
Zayn looked around once more.
Well, it was now 11:30, Niall had rocked up fifty minutes late, not even bothering with an excuse, and the only person in the store was Louis…And Louis wasn’t even a customer. No, Louis worked at the skate shop upstairs and five doors down but had a habit of popping in whenever he wasn’t busy and was bored. Which was always. How he convinced his boss to pay him was something Zayn thought better left unasked.
Louis had just turned up one day on his way to work when he’d stopped and stuck his head in long enough to yell out how “fucking sick!” Zayn’s hair was. Niall had been thrilled for hours, considering he’d just convinced Zayn to lose the long hair and reluctantly allow him to shave the sides and back. Why Zayn had let Niall, who had only been training in the salon a month, anywhere near his hair was a mystery to this day but it had set up the habit of them waving to Louis, and then Louis becoming a near permanent fixture. And hey, if he had a tendency of giving Zayn little heads up on the latest skate gear or discounts on the side – like the time Zayn had seen Louis blatantly write a delivery of three new sets of wheels while passing the fourth onto Zayn – who was he to complain? And Louis got his hair done for free in return whenever he wanted, as well as cups of tea whenever he popped in, so it was all fair in the end.
Louis was currently lounged on the chair used for washing client’s hair, one leg folded over the other with his phone held up over his face but Zayn didn’t see the need to tell him to move. Like he’d said, they were fucking empty and he was not going to let that go. Niall had already assured Zayn he would help him hide Anna’s body if it came to that on Monday. Niall who was pushing himself back and forth across the store on one of their stools while sucking on a lollypop.
“You choke on that and you’ll die ‘cause I was laughing too hard to help,” Zayn chided, mindlessly scrolling down facebook, elbows resting on the counter.
There then came movement from the door and Zayn looked up, blinking at the newcomers. They were fussing at the door, two young men about his age, the bulkier of the two seemingly trying to urge the taller one inside.
“Come on Harry,” he whined. “You promised.”
The longer haired one, who Zayn assumed to be Harry, shot his friend one last scowl before coming in. “Fine Liam.”
“You two got a question?” Zayn drawled, making both Louis and Niall spin around, desperate for a break from the monotony.
Liam, if he’d heard correctly, stepped forward, eyeing Zayn up before turning back to Harry. “Come on, look at his hair mate.”
Zayn blinked. Yes, it was hot pink at the moment but he didn’t think it was worth actually saying out loud.
“You know they’re gonna do a good job when their own hair looks that good.”
Niall preened, niggling Louis in the ribs with glee. Zayn gave it to him, Niall had done a great job. Tapping the diary on the counter though to re-capture Liam’s attention, Zayn raised his eyebrows. “You want something other than to compliment my hair because that’s usually saved for bars and clubs if I’m honest.”
Harry laughed loudly as Liam went pink, scowling at him. “No, um…” Liam pointed at Harry. “He lost a bet and the deal was he has to dye his hair, like proper and not that wash-out stuff.”
Harry shut up pretty quickly at that but Zayn wanted to slam his head into the counter. Great. One of them. Fucking hell, could his day get any worse? But with the salon so blindingly empty he couldn’t say anything other than yes. “Okay,” he said, pushing himself into an upright position. “What colour were you thinking?” He rounded the counter, taking one of Harry’s curls in his fingers, frowning. “You do realise I’m going to have bleach the fuck – excuse my language – out of this first?”
“Yeah, I know,” Harry mumbled, toeing at the floor. “And it were Liam’s choice.”
Zayn bit back a sigh. “Well alright.” He glanced at Liam. “Colour?”
“I was thinking blue,” he said, grinning broadly.
“No way in hell,” Niall replied adamantly, Louis nodding along like he had any clue what they were talking about.
“Yeah,” Zayn said under Liam and Harry’s curious looks. “Uni student, right Harry?” He nodded. “And you’ll dye it blue and have it wash out by the end of summer?” he guessed, leading Harry to a chair and going to find a smock and a towel.
“That was the plan,” Harry admitted.
Zayn tutted. “Vol 40 please Niall,” he instructed, the blond scampering away to mix up the bleach while Zayn unceremoniously shoved Louis off his chair. “Come sit here, I need to wash your hair.”
“I already washed it,” Harry started to protest, silencing under Zayn’s stern frown. Louis had always said he looked intimidating with his tattoos and sharp glare. Good to know he was right. “Sorry,” Harry said meekly as he lay down. “Guess you know what you’re doing, right?”
“I’d hope so,” Zayn chuckled, sending Harry a smile to let him know he wasn’t mad. “But please think of a different colour,” he requested as he waited for the tap to get to the right temperature.
“Can I ask why?” Liam interjected, sitting on the bench now, Louis by his side and passing him a cuppa. “I mean, it’s just blue.”
Zayn shook his head, hearing Niall come back up the stairs with the bowl of bleach. “Niall,” he called, “Please tell Liam and Harry why we can’t do blue.”
Niall froze mid-step, knowing Zayn was quizzing him, testing to see if he knew why the answer was “no” rather than just knowing that “no” was the answer. “Um…cause hair dye colours are all different but they each come from a warm or cold colour base…” Zayn nodded encouragingly. “And green is the cold base, red the warm…if you dye your hair blue, the blue fades really fast but it’ll go green and stay green. You can’t bleach it out again or even dye it brown or another colour. You have to…cut it off.”
Running his hands through Harry’s long curls one last time, Zayn peered up at Niall. “Do I?”
Niall squeaked before furiously stammering out, “Um…no…? You…uh, I can…No, you can dye it black!”
Zayn grinned proudly, patting Niall’s cheek as he passed before sitting Harry back in the chair and meeting his gaze in the mirror. “Do you want to go back to uni with black hair?”
He shook his head quickly, Zayn smirking before turning around to Liam. “So…what am I subjecting him to instead?”
Liam shrugged uncertainly. “What can you do?”
“Purple, a nice canary yellow-” Harry squawked in protest, “-could make him ginger, or silver even?”
“I can do gold,” Niall piped up.
“Yes you can,” Zayn agreed, “Niall’s great at gold actually. I’m shit at it.” He then hesitated, brush poised above Harry’s head. “Last chance to say no. Louis can take out Liam and hide you in his basement if you want?”
“Nah,” Harry said, giving a nervous smile. “A deal’s a deal. Let me have it.”
Zayn shrugged once, starting to paint the bleach on. “It might burn, let me know if it does, but I tend to find this one more feels like it’s bubbling on your skin? It’s a weird sensation but you’ll get what I mean when you feel it.”
They slipped into silence after that, Liam now looking more regretful than Harry, making Zayn mentally roll his eyes because ‘should have thought of that sooner’. He still hadn’t picked a colour but they had nearly an hour for him to reach a decision so Zayn didn’t mind. At ten past twelve a customer actually arrived, Zayn excusing himself to find out what they wanted before allocating the task to Niall. Niall bounced away and within two minutes every doubt the woman had had about having her hair done by someone lathered in tattoos was completely erased from her mind, Niall listening raptly as she prattled on about her family. Zayn smiled proudly, mentally noting that only the barest tips of Niall’s hair had a greenish tinge. Zayn gave it a week before it was gone completely.
“Alright,” he said, stepping away and pulling off his gloves. “We’ll put forty-five on the clock. Louis can make you a tea, if you want?”
Harry nodded and Zayn frowned when no objection was made by Louis. Looking over his shoulder, Zayn’s eyebrows shot up as he saw how red Louis’ ears were despite his back being turned. Ah, okay then. Leaving them to it, Zayn did a cursory walk by Niall, making one minor adjustment before dropping down next to Liam, setting his ankle atop his knee.
“Can I ask what the bet was?”
Liam almost looked startled at being drawn into conversation, scrambling to keep up before replying, “Oh! Um…well, I…Okay, fine, I…I had this girlfriend and I was miserable every time I was around her but we’d been together like three years-” Zayn whistled lowly, “-so I kind of thought I’d put so much time in that I may as well keep at it, you know? But Harry told me to dump her. I said I would but…it’s been eight months since I said that. Told me he’d dye his hair if I did. So…” Liam shrugged, looking down at his lap sheepishly. “I didn’t break up with her because of that…But it was kind of the push I needed. I would have let Harry off except I…well, I came out to my family too so…”
Zayn choked on his coffee, hastily setting the mug down as he hacked into his hands. “Whoa, okay! Jesus, hit them with everything at once. My hat off to you.”
Liam smiled shyly. “Thanks. They were great with it, confused I think, but great. But I feel like I’m still coming to terms with it so…”
“Eh, you have time to learn what you like,” Zayn said with a wave of his hand. “Trial and error, that sort of stuff.” He glanced at the time…and also at where Louis had since propped himself next to Harry and was merrily talking away. “And maybe it’s just me, but I think that warrants a cashing in on the bet.”
“Oh god, it was such a stupid bet,” Liam groaned, burying his head in his hands. “I can’t believe he went through with it. I mean, I wanted him to but…”
“It’ll be fine,” Zayn told him, “Besides, it’s only hair. It grows back. Personally, I’d go with a dusky purple. Not pastel but close, with a grey tinge, yeah?”
Liam held up his hands. “Please don’t ask me. I couldn’t do art let alone hair. Speaking of…” His dark eyes flickered up to Zayn’s hair. “Didn’t you say red doesn’t wash out? Like, yours is pink but…pink’s like red, isn’t it?”
Zayn nodded, tugging on the strands thoughtfully. “It is. To be honest, I was just going to have Niall cut it all off. It’ll go like a candy floss pink and then I’ll let him hack away at it.”
Liam looked borderline distressed. “But it’s so long! You’ll lose so much.”
Zayn laughed, pinching Liam’s cheek lightly as he got to his feet. The pout he got in return made his chest fill with warmth. “It’s alright babe. I’m used to losing my hair.” Coming back to Harry, Zayn added some more bleach to a couple of spots that were stubbornly staying orange before turning to Louis, deciding to make his day – one way or another. “Five more minutes Lou’ and then you can wash it out. Use the conditioner with the wolf on it, yeah? Tepid water, not hot.”
Louis gaped at him but Zayn was already winking and zipping away. He spent a few minutes with Niall, looking across the store once to find that Louis really was washing Harry’s hair, being so infinitely careful it was adorable. He chatted away with Niall’s customer, laughing along at her stories and wishing her well after she paid. Niall gaped when he saw Louis, poking Zayn in the side scoldingly before grabbing the colours Zayn requested. “Shame on you Malik,” he whispered in passing, Zayn merely grinning. Hey, if Louis wanted to play pretend to impress random hipster #257, Zayn was really only helping.
“How’s it going Lou’?” he asked as he approached, Louis glaring at him. Zayn bumped his hands away, running his own hands through and making sure every last bit of bleach was gone.
“You’re rough,” Harry complained, apparently before he even thought about it if the way he blushed immediately after speaking was anything to go by.
Zayn laughed loudly, switching the tap off and nudging Harry up. “Maybe I just like it rough. Hair-pulling not a turn on for you?” he teased, watching Harry go bright red. “Not everyone’s thing, I suppose. Now, Liam and I have decided on purple. Alright with you?”
Harry faltered midway through sitting down. “P-purple?”
“Not like bright purple,” Zayn promised. “A softer, dustier one.”
“Like what I wanted,” Niall sulked, passing Zayn the dye with a pout.
Zayn knew the feeling. He hated when customers asked for the exact colour he wanted just before he did it. He usually ended up changing it on principle. He squeezed Niall’s shoulder in consolation though. “Nah man, you wanted lilac. This isn’t that. One week Ni’, just wait one more week!”
Niall whooped and disappeared, Zayn chuckling as he started colouring Harry’s hair. Harry sent Liam off to get lunch at one point, Louis ducking off as well – probably to actually do work – although he whispered in Zayn’s ear for him to text him the minute Harry was done. Swatting him away, the kiss Zayn gave to his cheek was promise enough and he sat next to Harry when he was done, feet tired in his too heavy boots. He really should buy new shoes – he’d been thinking it for months.
Harry was alright, Zayn supposed. He was a nice guy, funny in a quirky, dopey kind of way but they couldn’t really find any similar hobbies to chat about. They had very different tastes and that’s all it was. Harry could have been the nicest person on earth and Zayn still wouldn’t have felt a spark with him. He was struggling to grasp at topics and working himself towards an anxiety induced headache after merely fifteen minutes.
Finally, finally, Liam returned just as the timer was going off, Zayn giving Harry’s hair its final rinse. Drying his hair, Zayn stepped away, tapping out a text as he did so while Harry took in his new appearance. “Am I now your least favourite person in the world?”
“No…” Harry said, carefully toying with his hair. “I mean…it’s different and I, like, I’m not quite sure it’s registered yet but…It looks great. Like, you did a fantastic job, really.”
Zayn folded his arms across his chest, not saying anything but he knew the message in the words. Yes, it was exactly what he had asked for. But no, he didn’t like. And, frankly, that wasn’t Zayn’s fault. Stupid bets yielded stupid results. Louis burst back in the store then, stumbling to a stop when he saw Harry before exploding, gushing about how magical he looked and how cool and he managed to wrangle a smile out of Harry so that was a plus. Making for the till, Zayn frowned when he saw Liam already there, card in his hand.
“You’re paying?”
He shrugged. “My bet.”
Zayn eyed him up apprehensively. “Yeah, but still, that’s a shit ton of money you’re going to be paying. Sure you don’t want to go halves?”
“I’m sure.”
Zayn held his hands up. “Fair enough. It’s your funeral.” He ran the card, handing it back and about to go and tidy up his area when he realised Liam was still standing there watching him. “Yes?”
Liam’s gaze flicked over his face one last time before he gave Zayn a challenging look. Zayn returned it eagerly. This was a game he liked. “So,” Liam started, “You know I’m Liam, and you know he’s Harry…” He then pointed to their right. “Louis. Niall. And yet I’ve been here two hours and don’t know your name.”
Zayn smirked. “How odd.” He then passed one of the salon cards over to Harry as he passed, eyes dancing as they met Liam’s. “Guess you’ll have to come back and find out.” Liam’s jaw dropped, Zayn waving at him innocently. “Bye Leeyum!”
Liam’s eyes hardened and Zayn cackled, hands clapping together in glee. This was going to be so much fun.
***
It turned out to be not so fun because Liam never came back. Zayn admitted to moping about that a couple of times. Niall had dragged him out of his room one day when he’d been sulkily throwing paint at a canvas – literally, he was just grabbing globs of it and throwing it on – and told him to get over it. He’d known Liam two hours and what the fuck had he been expecting? Niall was right but that didn’t mean Zayn was happy about it. He’d at least been pegging on Liam calling the salon and trying to wring a name out of him. He hadn’t. Not even once.
Folding down the last foil, Zayn sent his client a dazzling smile and gave her a time of half an hour. He passed her a tea and fished his phone charger out of his bag when he saw her slump down at the ‘low battery’ warning on her screen. She’d thanked him profusely as he’d unplugged the hairdryer to plug in her phone but Zayn had waved her off, assuring her he was more than aware of how boring sitting around doing nothing was.
Running the towels down to the washer, Zayn was jogging back up the stairs when he heard Anna say into the phone, “Pink hair? I’m guessing that would have been Zayn then…Yes, he’s here.” Zayn froze as Anna’s eyes met his. “I’ll put him on.”
Zayn frowned, taking the handset before quickly covering the mouth piece. “Who is it?” he hissed.
Anna shrugged. “Someone called Harry. Asked for you specifically. Why don’t you ever pass your name onto your clients? So inconvenient.”
Screwing up his face at his boss’ back, Zayn couldn’t help the little swoop of excitement as he placed the phone to his ear because Harry meant Liam. “Hello, this is Zayn. How can I help?”
“Zayn…” Harry’s voice was exactly as he remembered, thick and drawling, clearly testing out the new name. “Hi. Been awhile.”
“It has,” Zayn agreed, pretending to be scribbling in the appointment book. “Any reason you’re calling me? Wanted to go black after all? Uni about to go back?”
“It is.”
Zayn grunted, having seen that coming. “And…?”
He could hear Harry shuffling on the other end. “And, like, my hair’s not purple anymore – thanks for that, by the way, I think my sister nearly murdered me she liked it so much.” Zayn huffed out a laugh. “Um, yeah, but it’s still blond and…I don’t like being blond.”
“I can colour over it,” Zayn said easily. “That’s not a problem. I can make it brown again, you’ll be fine. When did you want to come in?”
There was a pause, Zayn’s eyebrows knitting together. “Actually…”
“Yes…?”
“…I wanted to cut it off.”
Zayn blinked, removing the pen from between his teeth. “Sorry, repeat that.”
“My hair, I want it cut,” Harry said in a rush, like if he didn’t he’d be too scared and back down. “Start the year fresh, cut it all off. Really short. Like…like Louis’, yeah? Maybe even shorter?”
“Fuck.”
“I heard that Zayn, you can stay behind and do inventory,” Anna snapped as she walked past, Zayn flinching. “That mouth doesn’t belong in this shop.”
“Oops,” Harry sounded apologetic and Zayn felt his cheeks flame. He felt like a kid getting scolded by their parents in front of their friends. “I didn’t mean to get you in trouble…?”
“’s fine,” Zayn sighed, whimsically glancing at the inventory stock list before the timer above his client, hissing. “Dammit, I’ve got to go. But yes, I can do that but only if you’re sure Harry. And I know it sounds odd but please bring a friend-” His swerve around the name ‘Liam’ was expert in his opinion. “Making a severe change like that takes a surprising amount out of your emotionally. Don’t come alone, alright?”
“Okay…” Harry sounded unsure but he gave Zayn a time, Zayn scribbling it down before hanging up.
He then jogged back to his client, clucking proudly when he undid one of the foils. “Look at that, just what we wanted to see! Let’s wash it out and get you out of this chair, yeah?”
***
“Surf, Skate, Ski this is Louis.”
“Oi fuckwit, Harry-with-the-long-hair is gonna be here in twenty.”
Louis moaned on the other end, the corner of Zayn’s mouth quirking up into a smile. “I’m working Zee…”
Zayn snorted. Like that had ever stopped him before. “Alright. Oh, and he’s cutting it all off.”
“Wha-?!”
Zayn hung up as Louis’ screech echoed down the line, pocketing his phone and making his way upstairs. Anna was busy with her own client, a 30th if he remembered correctly, and Niall was not so subtly hiding around the corner. Despite his cocksure attitude, not even Niall was immune to the primitive sense of fear that came with being alone with their boss. Zayn understood completely – he’d been working here three years and he was still more scared of her than he would like to admit…Although Zayn put that more down to the fact that she took her bad moods out on them and worked them into ground while dishing out unfair punishments for menial things.
“Hey Nialler,” Zayn said, flopping onto the ground below where Niall was sitting on a counter, the blond’s feet settling on his shoulders. “Alright?”
Niall hummed, Zayn tilting his head back so he could see his face. The purple hair had only just been retouched, Zayn having done it first thing that morning while Niall did his hair silver. It had actually been quite fun, one of them bleaching the other’s hair before swapping places so the other could take their turn at doing the bleaching. Silver and purple, they could almost make some sort of weird galaxy theme, Zayn thought absently as he heard voices from the doorway. Pushing himself up before Anna could come looking for them, he grinned at…well, he would say Harry and Liam but truthfully it was only Liam.
“You took my advice and brought a friend,” Zayn said, addressing Harry after shamelessly checking Liam out, Liam looking unsure as to whether he should return the favour or run.
Harry chuckled nervously. “Yeah, thought it were for the best.”
“You make a terrible blond,” Niall said bluntly, leaning around the corner and chewing his gum with loud smacks.
“Niall!” Anna scolded.
“It’s alright,” Harry said, stepping in and consequently missing Niall’s relieved look. “I knew it when I did. It was a stupid dare and these ones are going to help me fix it.”
Anna was powerless under his smile and Zayn swallowed down the acid in his throat. As if he hadn’t been trying to do that for years. “Ah, well Zayn is very good.”
Liam’s eyebrows shot up at the name “Zayn”, Zayn making no effort to hide his displeasure because hey, Harry had obviously been aware of the rules and hadn’t tattled to Liam but his stupid, fucking boss had.
“My boy will treat you right.”
Forcing a smile at Anna, Zayn dropped it the second she looked away, catching Liam’s perplexed look out of the corner of his eye. He sat Harry back in the same chair as last time, hands cupping his shoulders and squeezing gently. “How short are you thinking?”
“I already said,” Harry grumbled, eyes on his lap.
Zayn guided his chin up with a finger, locking their gazes in the mirror. “I know you did but I want to hear it again, now, before I do anything you can’t take back. I can dye it brown again, that’s no problem. I can fit that in.”
Harry hesitated before firmly shaking his head. “No. I want what I said.” He pulled out his phone, going to the camera roll and flipping through a couple of photos. “Like this, okay? This short and, like, so I can style it like that.”
Zayn took the offered phone, squinting at the screen and zooming in a couple of times. “Alright,” he said, handing it back with a shrug. “It’s up to you but…It’ll grow back. Okay? Remember that Harry. It will always grow back.”
Harry smiled at him tightly, briefly clasping Zayn’s hand. “Thank you.”
Zayn slipping the smock around Harry’s shoulders synced perfectly with Anna taking her lunch break, saying she had to stop by the bank on the way back which fuck yes. Right on cue, the second she left, Louis popped in, all smiles and cheer.
“Harold!” he called loudly, dropping into the chair next to him and propping his felt up in his lap.
“Louis,” Zayn barked, going to hit him when Harry caught him by the wrist.
“I don’t mind,” he assured, cheeks slightly pink and oh god, they were as bad as each other. Harry then smiled at Louis brightly. “Just back from lunch then?”
Louis froze and Zayn hid a snicker behind his hand. Niall rolled his eyes before heading off to clean Anna’s station. As Louis reeled off some lie or another – and why didn’t he just own up to the fact that he didn’t work here? – Zayn dragged his cart over, swearing loudly when his scissors fell on the ground.
“Go home,” Niall called from across the room. “Go home and start again Zayn.”
“I wish,” he sighed, staring at the scissors glumly before tossing them in the bin. He’d really liked those ones. Finding a new set by the kettle, Zayn undid the packaging before coming over, blinking when he found Harry’s hand to actually be raised in air. “Um…yes?”
“Isn’t throwing them out a bit dramatic?”
Zayn shook his head. “Not supposed to use them after they’ve been dropped. They’re never quite the same and can give wonky cuts.” He patted Harry’s head. “You don’t want that.”
Harry smiled languidly. “No, I don’t. So…” he took a deep breath. “This is it?”
“This is it,” Zayn agreed. Even so, he hesitated before making the first cut. Harry strangled down a whimper but Zayn still cringed. Louis was jumping in with assurances, Liam also briskly walking to Harry’s side, crouching down next to him and passing on encouragement. It didn’t take Zayn too long, cutting away curl after curl. The transformation was pretty amazing, really, Niall coming over to join at one point out of pure fascination but Zayn knew Harry was going to take awhile to get over it. “It’s a lot,” he breathed when he was done, propping his chin atop Harry’s head. “It’s a big change but you did really well Harry.”
Harry sniffed. “Feel like crying. Which is stupid.”
“Nah, it’s not,” Niall countered. “I dyed me hair black once. Cried three times before begging Zayn to bleach it, make it blond again. Burnt half me scalp off doing it but you can cry.”
“Zayn said I’d get emotional,” Harry choked out. “Thought he was just being dramatic, thinking I was sensitive like but…”
“Harry,” Louis cooed, even as Liam was handing him a tissue. “Zaynie’s not like that. He’s a giant teddy bear in a studded leather jacket, trying to look tough even though he’s anything but.”
“Fuck you,” Zayn spat, approaching the colour rack and selecting a few. He compared them against Harry’s regrowth, picking one out and asking Niall to put the rest back. “Still gotta dye the ends though, yeah?”
“Please,” Harry begged, tugging on the blond tips.
“Niall?”
Niall was happy enough to do so, Zayn moving away to have a sit down, supressing a smile when Liam came to stand in front of him. “Hello Zayn.”
“Mmm, hi Liam.” He then frowned at him. “And sorry, but that shitty haircut is not allowed in my salon.” Liam’s hands flew to his buzzcut. “You’re not fifteen, you don’t look tough. Who did that? And, more importantly, why didn’t you ask me? I gave Harry my card.”
Liam sheepishly rubbed at his head. “I…it were just easy, right? And I…I won’t ever do what you and Niall have and I…Thought it was a bit stupid me coming in here for just a trim?”
Zayn rolled his eyes, shifting his legs so there was room for Liam to drop down beside him. He sent Liam a lazy grin. “You do realise this is a hairdresser? I am actually obligated to cut the hair of anyone who walks in my door? You could want a single hair fixed and I’d still do it. I mean, you’d be wasting your money but hey…” he lightly tapped Liam’s head. “At least then I wouldn’t be subjected to…this.”
“Is it really so horrible?” Liam asked, sounding so dejected Zayn kicked himself.
“No,” he reluctantly mumbled, stroking his head much more tenderly this time. “It does, somehow, actually suit you but I liked it better before, you know? I sort of have a thing for undercuts, if you couldn’t tell,” he said, running his hand across his own hair.
“I like the silver,” Liam said, tentatively inching a hand up. Zayn took pity on him, pressing his head into Liam’s palm. “Huh. I…For some reason I thought it would be bristly.”
Zayn laughed. “Only if you don’t look after it! I take excellent care of my hair. Wouldn’t be able to justify working here if I didn’t.”
Liam shifted to face him more fully. “How long have you been working here?”
Zayn eyed him up. “Alright moving into small talk are we Liam?” Liam blushed and Zayn chuckled, stretching his legs out and crossing his ankles. “Nah, I’ve been here nearly three years; three years in October, actually.”
“I thought you were the owner first time I came in,” Liam admitted. “But then that lady…”
Zayn scowled. “Yes, Anna.”
“You don’t like her.”
“No I don’t.” He started rattling off in his fingers. “Comes in whenever she wants, always overbooks me and Niall, we rarely get out on time, she never does the Saturday shift.”
“Ease up Zayner,” Louis chided as he fossicked through the sweets jar on the bench, lobbing one to Niall before passing another onto Harry.
“It’s not you that has to stay behind,” Zayn growled.
“Yes, but you’re not doing a good job of reflecting the company. Harry and Liam won’t come back if you keep painting the business as you are.”
Zayn knew it was true, hunkering down and decidedly keeping his mouth shut. Louis turned somewhat guilty and tried to bribe him with a sweet but Zayn merely batted him away. Niall ended up seating himself on the arm of the bench, curling himself around Zayn and snuggling into his neck. Zayn softened then, playfully scratching at Niall’s scalp.
“He’s my boss,” Niall declared, smacking his lips against Zayn’s cheek.
Zayn chuckled, pushing him away. “And as your boss, I’m telling you you forgot to set Harry’s timer and he needs the dye washed out now.”
“Shit!”
Niall all but threw himself off the chair, scampering back to Harry’s side and unapologetically pushing Louis away. Zayn laughed at the resulting kerfuffle, Liam’s gaze boring into the side of his face. “What?”
“Think you’d be a cool boss,” Liam eventually mumbled shyly.
Zayn snorted. “Yeah, I’m not. But I keep everyone in line when Anna’s not here and we haven’t burnt down yet so I guess I’m not so terrible. Niall’s my little student, I’m proud of him.”
“And Louis?”
Louis’ head whipped up but Zayn merely grinned at him. “Louis is something else entirely.”
Liam took that however he wanted and Louis breathed a sigh of relief, flashing Zayn a thumbs up. Zayn tapped Liam’s hand, re-capturing his attention.
“What about you?” he said in reply to Liam’s silent question. “What do you do? Harry’s at uni, so are you?” His lips then pursed in thought. “You must be younger than I thought.”
Liam shook his head. “Nearly twenty-three. Harry’s doing a double degree, which is why he’s back this year but I…uh,” Liam’s voice dropped to a whisper. “I failed a couple of classes so had to come back and do another year.”
“Hey, no shame in that,” Zayn remarked, clucking his tongue. “And besides, I never even got accepted so you’re better than me. Did, like, beauty college and that’s it. Niall too. But he’s still a trainee so he’s got a second job to make ends meet.”
“Oh fuck, speaking of,” Niall yelled over the sound of rushing water, finishing up with Harry’s shampoo and moving to the conditioner, “Do you know they moved me from bar to shots tonight? Fuckers have me finishing at four.”
Zayn winced. “Ouch Ni’.” He glanced at the time. “Tell you what, client book’s empty for this afternoon so how about you skip lunch and just head home? Take a nap before your second shift?”
Niall grinned in thanks, whining when Louis insisted he wanted to wash Harry’s hair.
“Boys, play nice!” Zayn’s voice had them flying apart, his focus then returning to Liam. “And what do you do? Just uni or…?”
“I was,” Liam confessed, “But…think I need a job this year. I don’t have many classes so I figured I might as well. There aren’t that many jobs going though. I mean, a couple at Tescos and that but…” he spread his hands. “I’m twenty-three-”
“Nearly.”
Liam pouted at him. “It just…feels like a stupid job for an adult, doesn’t it?”
“No,” Zayn snapped. “Sounds like you’re trying to earn money. Doesn’t matter how you do it Liam. A job’s a job.”
Liam’s eyes widened at the sharpness of his tone and Zayn buried his head in his hands, muttering out apologies, knowing he’d lost his temper. “Is that something I shouldn’t ask about?” Liam hedged.
“No, it’s nothing,” Zayn sighed. “Only…Let’s just say hairdressing wasn’t what my parents had in mind for their only son and leave it at that, okay?”
Liam had the grace to look, of all things, sympathetic. “Oh Zayn.”
Zayn shook him off. “Whatever, it’s fine. But seriously Liam, do whatever it is in life that makes you happy, regardless of what other people think.”
“I will.”
It sounded oddly like a promise. Zayn eyed Liam up for a moment longer before nodding at where Harry was sitting getting his hair blow-dried. “And him? He work?”
Liam went uncharacteristically still, like a deer caught in the headlights. Zayn couldn’t help the sly smile that formed on his face, Liam hastily looking around before saying, voice hushed. “I mean…I probably shouldn’t tell but Harry, like, he bakes for the students but…Okay, he makes cookies and brownies stuffed with weed and sells them.”
Zayn made his eyes go comically wide. “Fucking hell! Louis, Niall, we gotta call the cops! Harry does…the marijuana.”
Liam slapped his shoulder. Niall cracked up laughing while Louis demanded an explanation, looking a little too interested if Zayn was honest. Eh, who was he kidding? He’d probably be hitting Harry up within the next week or two himself. It had been awhile since he’d gotten high off anything other than a spliff.
Seemingly all too soon Harry was done. Zayn whistled, impressed. Harry kept looking in the mirror self-consciously, constantly going to play with hair that simply wasn’t there anymore, but that would stop soon enough. Taking Harry to the till while Liam gathered his things, Zayn rung up the price before sliding Harry a card. Harry’s eyes lit up when Zayn told him what it was for, scribbling something out before Zayn took it back, tucking the card into his back pocket just as Liam arrived. Liam must have caught the tail-end of the gesture but Zayn sent him a look that plain as day told him he would be getting zero explanation no matter how much he tried. Poking his tongue out, Liam left with Harry. Zayn waved him off with a smile.
Oh, and with his number tucked away in his pocket. Thanks Harry.
***