dear moon, [tag::Zachariah]

[dancie noel bevins]

The rain had appeared out of absolutely no where. The clouds had been white and fluffy, the sun shining down to beat at the sidewalk. Then those white fluffy clouds turned gray and choked off the light. Dancie looked upwards right as the first drop fell and struck her cheek. The rain increased its speed and strength immediately. A lot of pedestrians hurried to duck into the nearest stores or wave down passing cabs. Dancie’s usually mostly straight orange hair curled with rainwater. Her lacy, black blouse clung to her. The girl tugged at it and gave a quiet, uncomfortable sound. There weren’t many things that could dampen [no pun intended] her day but a storm never failed to.

She didn’t pay much attention to which door she had slipped into. Anything would do as long as she could get out of the weather. Truth was it terrified her. She felt trapped; unable to go outside until the rain let up a bit. Dancie didn’t own a vehicle so she walked everywhere she went. Driving was just another thing that she was secretly scared of. Either way the girl wouldn’t set foot outside until the sun peeked out again.

Dancie turned her eyes away from the large, floor-to-ceiling windows at the front of the place and glanced around. It was bright inside, which comforted her greatly, a large contrast to the moody clouds outside. It was a hair salon, which would explain the level of noise. There were gossipy women everywhere. There were a few chatting each other up in the waiting area, flipping through magazines as they waited their turn. Every chair was occupied and the stylists clipped with scissors, spritzed with hairspray, colored with wrapped tinfoil, the works. It all reminded Dancie of what she would imagine a den of Pterodactyls to act like. There was the squawking, the flailing…It made sense. But had Pterodactyls even had dens, like together? She didn’t recall learning that ever but who says they couldn’t have?

The girl was snapped from her imaginings when a woman behind the desk cleared her throat. Dancie jumped slightly and turned her eyes to the woman. She was pretty but probably a touch too conscious of everyone else’s opinions. Dancie could tell this from the way her makeup had been applied perfectly and her hair perfect. The way she adjusted her blouse as she lifted a thin eyebrow at Dancie. ”Were you here for a cut?”

She wasn’t and that was probably made obvious when Dancie grabbed a bit of her sun faded hair and pulled it over her shoulder to look at it. ”Uh…” She supposed she had the cash for it and it was true that she needed something done with her hair. Her bright eyes moved back to the woman’s and she managed a quick nod. The tall, blonde nudged a sign-in across the counter to her. With a flourish of the pen, Dancie signed her name and the time. She scanned the right side of the chart and noticed the most chosen hair dresser was Zachariah. Still Dancie left the space blank and moved away from the counter, with not much more than an impolite noise from the receptionist.

The chairs and benches in the waiting area were made more for the sleek look than the coziness. She slid down into one of the low backed chairs. She pulled herself down in it. Her upper back supported her posture instead of her lower back. Her hair fell over her face as she examined her fingernails. She knew which ever hair dresser was free next would walk over to the desk and call her name when they were ready.

[zachariah james fannin]

if there was one thing that zachariah loved in the world, it was his job. he wasn't a big fan of people, and he wasn't a bit fan of most of the people that came in to get their hair done. rich women who had too much time and money on their hands. with problems that really didn't matter and he especially didn't give two shits about. that was how the majority of the people that came into the salon were. and for as much as it was an irritant, he didn't mind all that much. because he got to do what he loved to do. and the more rich women that he made happy, the bigger the chance of someone talking to someone famous would come. and then he could get out of his town and start doing hair for the stars like he was always meant to do.

a large sigh left the man's lips as he finished a cut on one of the women. that was the thing about working in this place, at this point most of the women had realized that he was the best there. or at least he was cute with a nice ass that he allowed them to pinch from time to time just because it seemed to make them leave bigger tips. and he was never going to complain about getting tips. oh hell no. that's where all his extra money came in. and he was not about to complain about extra money.

so he came in and he bullshitted with those women. and he cut hair. and he assured them that their husbands weren't cheating on him. unless that's what they wanted to hear then he told them that they were. which was usually to make the women feel less guilty about having their own affairs. that was the interesting thing about being a hair dresser. there was never anything that went unknown between a hair dresser and his client. they were such blabber mouths when it came down to it.

with a bit of a sigh and a swing in his step he made his way up to the receptionist counter and crossed his arms over the top of it before resting his forehead on his arms. "i swear to god amanda these women are trying to kill me," he let out with a long sigh before he looked up at the blonde beside him. "zachariah you're being dramatic again. here, you have more on the list, she informed him before handing that clipboard to her. he looked down the list and then at the women seated in the waiting area.

it was then that something caught his eye. bright orange hair. sure he saw a lot of colors come into his work place. but there was always something about a girl who had that particular color of hair. something that had always stood out to the young man. "what's her name?" he asked amanda who pointed on the list. she was several people down, but right then and there, he didn't care. because a part of him wanted to be able to talk to a cute girl instead of the cougars who were always preying on him.

"dancie?" he called out a bright sort of smile coming to take over his lips as his eyes locked on the form of the young woman. she really was cute. and it was when girls like that came into his work that keeping up the facade of being gay got harder and harder. because he would love nothing more than to flirt with the girl. to smile. to laugh. to be that charming son of a bitch that he knew he was even if it was only to get one night of sex out of her before he moved on in the world. either way, he didn't care. right then, he was just going to be happy to be hearing about something other than country clubs.