Stylist Piluca Strips Away Jessica's Certainties
With each cut, Jessica loses more than just her hair—she faces a transformation that challenges everything she thought she knew about herself.
Jessica had always been a very charming woman, the kind who knew that her appearance was her best calling card. Her entire life revolved around the image she projected: always well-dressed, striking, with just the right clothes to stand out, often wearing miniskirts. She was slim, with a slender figure that she knew how to highlight, and her hair—a long, brown mane with blonde highlights—was her pride. Every strand, perfectly cared for, shone with golden highlights when sunlight touched it. Jessica had spent her whole life maintaining that mane, which moved like a cascade when she walked, always perfectly styled, an extension of her own personality. People knew her for it, and she was well aware of that.
She had always been the one to draw attention wherever she went, the one who never had trouble flirting or finding a new attractive boyfriend. And to maintain that image, she trusted only the best: one of the most expensive hair salons in the city, where they had known her for over ten years. There, her trusted hairdresser, also named Piluca, was a woman of her style, with a perfect bob cut that left not a single hair out of place.
That afternoon, Jessica left the nineteenth-century mansion that now served as the temporary headquarters of the newspaper she worked for while the main office was being renovated. It was a sunny afternoon; the sun reflected off the waters of the marina and made the facades of nearby buildings gleam. As she crossed the wrought-iron gate, with her purse on her shoulder and large sunglasses on, she saw a figure approaching from the direction of the beach. At first, she didn't recognize her. It was a woman with a shaved head, her face vaguely familiar. It wasn't until she was only a few steps away that Jessica realized it was Cristina.
"Cristina, is that you?!" Jessica exclaimed, her eyes wide as she abruptly removed her sunglasses. "My God, I didn't recognize you. What have you done to yourself?"
Cristina gave an ambiguous smile and shrugged, as if she herself still didn't know how to explain what had happened.
"Let's say it was... an unexpected change," Cristina said, running a hand over her head, feeling the smooth sides. "I went into the barbershop thinking about a trim, something simple, and well, you see..."
Jessica looked her up and down, incredulous, before letting out a nervous laugh.
"A trim? They’ve shaved your head, Cristina! I... I would never dare do something like that." She tried to sound amused, but the astonishment and unease seeped into her voice.
Cristina ran her hand over the top of her head, where only a few millimeters of hair remained in a sharply defined flat top. She seemed to enjoy the sensation, as if she still wasn't fully used to it.
"I know, I know. It wasn't what I wanted, but the hairdresser, Piluca, was very insistent. She cornered me, convinced me, and before I knew it, the clippers were running over my head. It was... a kind of betrayal, I guess."
Jessica tilted her head, trying to understand, and couldn't help frowning.
"Insistent? How could someone convince you to do something like that?" she asked, her voice a mix of curiosity and disbelief. "I couldn't. Really, Cristina, I could never let anyone touch my head like that. Let alone shave it."
Cristina laughed out loud, though her eyes held a hint of discomfort.
"Believe me, I thought the same. But sometimes you find yourself in a situation where you can't say no, even if you want to. And before you know it, you're staring at a new person in the mirror."
Jessica shook her head, still unable to picture herself in that position. She studied Cristina's face, searching for an answer, but all she found was that smile that didn't quite match the aggressive cut.
"Well, I wouldn't do it even if they begged me," Jessica insisted. "I can't imagine myself without my hair. My hairdresser knows that—she always says it would be a crime to cut it too much."
Cristina looked at her with a smile that was half understanding, half irony.
"Never say never, Jessica. Sometimes what we think is impossible ends up being what we need the most."
Jessica frowned, as if trying to process those words, and finally shook her head.
"Well, I still think I couldn't do it. But hey, if you're okay with it, then..." she said, letting her words trail off as her eyes continued to study Cristina's cut, as if still trying to get used to the idea.
"Yeah, I guess I'm okay," Cristina replied, though there was a hint of doubt in her voice. "I guess it's just a matter of getting used to it."
They said their goodbyes with a hug, and Cristina went on her way while Jessica descended the steps of the underground parking lot by the pier. Her car awaited her in the dim light, and as she settled into the seat, an uncomfortable thought crossed her mind: she also had an appointment with her hairdresser that very afternoon.
As she drove, her thoughts whirled in her mind. What must it have been like for Cristina? she wondered again and again. I could never do something like that, she repeated to herself. Her hairdresser, also named Piluca, wasn't like Cristina's. Her Piluca was different, sophisticated, always impeccable with her perfectly aligned bob cut. Jessica had known Piluca for over ten years and always trusted her to keep her image spotless. No drastic changes, just enough to keep being the same Jessica as always.
When she arrived at the salon, Jessica took a deep breath and entered. The door tinkled softly as it closed, and Piluca, with her usual smile, greeted her from the counter.
"Jessica, darling! How are you?" Piluca greeted her, noticing a trace of tension on her face. "Wow, you have a different expression today. Has something happened?"
Jessica let herself fall into the leather chair, letting out a sigh as she removed her sunglasses. She rested her purse on her lap and, as Piluca adjusted the cape around her neck, she began to talk.
"It's just... something happened that really shocked me, Piluca. I saw my friend Cristina, the one who always had that long, beautiful hair, you know..." Jessica said, her voice trembling a bit. She swallowed hard before continuing. "She shaved her head. Well, actually, they shaved it. She’s almost bald now. It was awful seeing her like that, like she was someone else."
Piluca paused for a moment, her hands fiddling with the comb, and looked at Jessica through the mirror, raising an intrigued eyebrow.
"Bald? Wow, that's quite the drastic change. Did she want to do it, or was she convinced?"
Jessica shook her head, still struggling with the unease that remembering the encounter caused her.
"It wasn't her idea. She told me. She said the barber, another Piluca..." she added with a nervous smile, "well, that woman convinced her, cornered her, and before she knew it, the clippers were running over her head. Can you imagine? One thing is trimming your hair, but this... This was a betrayal!"
Piluca tilted her head, pretending surprise, but a glimmer of curiosity crossed her eyes.
"Well, well, so she let herself be convinced, huh? Sometimes people need a push to dare do something new. It might have done her some good, who knows."
Jessica placed her hands on her head, as if trying to make sure her own mane was still there, safe. The idea of losing it caused her an anxiety she could not hide.
"I don’t know, Piluca, I could never do it. I felt horrible seeing her like that, as if she had lost something of herself in that barber’s chair, you know?" Jessica paused, looking at her hairdresser through the mirror, seeking an answer that would reassure her.
Piluca offered a smile that aimed to be reassuring, though there was something in it that Jessica couldn't quite grasp.
"I understand what you're saying, darling. But sometimes, losing something is just what we need to discover another part of ourselves. Maybe your friend is just exploring who she is now."
Jessica shook her head, with an expression of rejection.
"No, Piluca, I don’t think that's for me. I need my hair; it’s part of who I am. I don’t know, I think I’d feel... empty, exposed without it." Her words escaped with a mix of emotion she could barely control, and she felt her heart racing just at the thought.
Piluca leaned in a little closer, resting a hand on the back of the chair while looking at Jessica through the mirror.
"Jessica, sweetheart, listen to me. I'm not asking you to shave your head like your friend Cristina. No, no... You’re different. You have a natural beauty that stands out in its own way. But haven’t you gotten a bit tired of always looking the same? Look at yourself. As beautiful as always, yes, but... always the same. Wouldn’t you like something to make you feel lighter, freer?"
Jessica looked at Piluca, blinking, feeling cornered by her hairdresser's intensity. She tried to laugh, though it sounded more like a nervous sigh.
"I don’t know, Piluca... I just want a trim, keep the ends as usual. I don’t want to risk anything I might regret later," she insisted, trying to regain control.
But Piluca ignored her with the skill of someone who had won many arguments. She leaned in even closer, lowering her voice to almost a whisper.
"It's not about risking something dangerous, Jessica. It's about discovering yourself. Look, I just want to cut a little more than the ends, bring it to shoulder length. Nothing drastic, just a small change to make you feel fresher." Piluca paused, studying Jessica intently. "Trust me, darling. I promise you'll look amazing."
Jessica swallowed, hesitating. She looked at herself in the mirror, observing her mane cascading down her shoulders. Her hair was her refuge, her identity. But there was something in Piluca's tone that convinced her, that made her resistance crumble. Maybe it was the way the hairdresser looked at her, as if she truly knew what was best for her.
"Well... but only to the shoulders, Piluca. Nothing more, okay?" she finally conceded, her voice trembling slightly.
Piluca smiled, her eyes glinting with a mix of satisfaction and something deeper.
"Of course, darling. To the shoulders. Not a centimeter more," she said, lifting the scissors and positioning herself behind Jessica.
Jessica watched as Piluca took a thick section of her mane and held it firmly between her fingers. The hairdresser looked at her through the mirror, seeking her nod before proceeding. Jessica took a deep breath and nodded, closing her eyes when she heard the first "snip" of the scissors.
The hair fell to the floor in a long, thick lock, and the sound of the cut echoed in the small room. Jessica opened her eyes and looked at her reflection: her hair now fell just to her shoulders, the line defined and clean, but shorter than it had been in years.
"See, Jessica? It’s beautiful. Look how it highlights the line of your neck, how it emphasizes your shoulders. It’s a subtle difference, but it changes everything, don’t you think?" Piluca said, cutting more sections with exact precision.
Jessica swallowed, feeling a different weight on her head. There was something strange about seeing so much of her neck, about noticing the absence of the cascade of hair that used to hide it.
"I guess..." she replied, her voice still shaky. "Although I still feel a bit strange."
Piluca let out a low laugh, bending down to look her directly in the eyes in the mirror.
"It’s normal to feel a bit strange at first. Any change brings some insecurity. But, you know what? I can still see there’s too much weight in the hair. I think we could do a bit more, make it lighter and fresher. Look, just a touch shorter, something that enhances your face even more." Piluca already had the next idea in mind, and her voice was hypnotic, drawing Jessica into a new proposal.
Jessica frowned, the anxiety reappearing.
"Piluca, I don’t know... this is already quite short for me. I don’t want to end up like Cristina, regretting something I didn’t plan," she said, trying to sound firm, though deep down she knew that firmness was already cracked.
Piluca smiled sweetly, resting her hands on Jessica's shoulders.
"Don't worry, darling. This is nothing like Cristina's. I'm just thinking of enhancing the best in you. And we're not going to do anything drastic. Just a more styled bob, a little shorter in the back, to give it movement and looseness. Trust me, you'll look beautiful."
Jessica remained silent, looking at her own reflection, the glimmer of doubt in her eyes. She didn’t know how to respond, because something inside her began to feel trapped, overwhelmed. But before she could articulate a clear denial, she felt Piluca grab the scissors again, and the next thick lock fell to the floor.
Jessica watched as Piluca continued cutting, leaving her with less and less hair. The locks that used to fall over her shoulders and back were now piling up on the floor, and the line of her hair shortened more and more, until it was just at jaw length. Jessica swallowed hard, feeling an increasing anxiety take over her.
"Piluca, this is already really short... I don’t feel comfortable," Jessica said, looking at her reflection, noticing how different she looked without the long mane that had been such a fundamental part of her identity.
Piluca, however, smiled as she took another section.
"Relax, darling. This bob is beautiful on you. It highlights your face and makes you look fresher, more modern. Look at yourself—now the line of your neck stands out. It's something you really needed to show all your beauty," Piluca spoke in a soft, almost hypnotic tone, while she continued adjusting the cut.
Jessica took a deep breath, trying to convince herself the change was good. She looked at herself in the mirror and, yes, her neck looked longer and more elegant, but she couldn't shake the feeling that something was missing. The weight of her hair had always been a source of comfort, and now that feeling was gone, leaving her a bit more vulnerable.
"I don’t know, Piluca... I'm not sure I like it," she finally said, her voice trembling. She brought her hand to the back of her head, touching the short hair, unsure whether to feel worried or relieved about the change.
Piluca smiled, but this time her gaze became more intense.
"Jessica, let me tell you something," she began, leaning toward her. "Many times we hold onto things that no longer serve us. That long hair, although beautiful, was hiding you. This cut is an opportunity to let out everything that's always been underneath. But I still think there’s one last adjustment we could make."
Jessica glanced sideways at Piluca, already recognizing the expression on her hairdresser’s face. Every time she saw that determination, it was as if she couldn't escape from what was coming. And yet, she tried to resist.
"An adjustment...? Piluca, really, this is fine as it is. I don’t want to look any more different," Jessica protested, feeling the fear entangled in her voice.
Piluca stopped cutting for a moment and came closer to Jessica, placing her hands on her shoulders.
"Look, it's nothing drastic, really. Just a small detail on the nape. Something very subtle, I promise. Just enough to give it a fresher touch. Trust me, it won’t be anything drastic. Just a slight shave at a level two, to emphasize the back and give it that special touch. No one will notice at first glance, but you’ll feel the difference." Piluca spoke with calculated calm, her tone full of security and confidence.
Jessica tensed at hearing the word "shave." She didn’t want to think about clippers cutting her hair, leaving her skin exposed. She closed her eyes for a moment, trying to breathe deeply.
"Piluca, I'm not sure... That sounds like a lot more than an 'adjustment.' I don’t know if I want..." Jessica tried to speak, but the words got stuck in her throat. Every time she looked at Piluca's confident face, the feeling that there was no way out grew stronger.
"Sweetheart, look at yourself in the mirror," Piluca said, gently turning Jessica's face toward the mirror. "Look closely. You already look beautiful, but with just a little more, you could look incredible. Just the nape, to emphasize the cut. It's not a big change, just one more small step. It's up to you, of course, but I know you won't regret it."
Jessica remained silent, her gaze lost in her reflection. She saw the image of a different woman—someone who looked confident and elegant—but underneath that appearance, she felt like her essence was being tested. The pressure that Piluca exerted was like an unstoppable wave pushing her to where she didn’t want to go. Finally, she sighed, defeated.
"Alright, but just a little... I don’t want it to be too much," she conceded, her voice barely a whisper.
Piluca smiled triumphantly and caressed Jessica’s shoulders.
"I knew you’d trust me. I promise you won’t regret it. This will be the last thing, and then you’ll be ready to dazzle."
Piluca picked up the clippers, adjusted to level two, and positioned herself behind Jessica. The buzzing filled the air, and Jessica closed her eyes tightly, her heart racing. The clippers approached her nape, and the first contact was an unexpected shock. The vibration traveled through her skin, and Jessica felt the hair at the nape disappear instantly, leaving a cold and strange sensation.
The hairdresser moved the clippers skillfully, creating a smooth, defined line. Each pass of the clippers made Jessica feel more exposed, more vulnerable. The cool air of the salon hit her freshly shaved nape, and with each lock that fell, Jessica felt something inside her detach as well.
"There it is, darling. Perfect. Look at how the shaved nape gives the cut another edge," Piluca said, showing Jessica the result with a hand mirror.
Jessica opened her eyes and observed her reflection. The nape was bare, shaved to a level two, and the rest of her hair fell in a perfectly aligned bob. She looked different—more modern, more daring—but beneath that new appearance, she still felt a mix of anxiety and vulnerability.
"It's... much shorter than I thought," Jessica said, running her fingers over the nape, feeling the rough texture of the freshly cut hair.
Piluca smiled, her voice soothing.
"It’s perfect, Jessica. Sometimes, we just need that little change to discover who we really are. Now look closely, and tell me you don’t look amazing."
Jessica nodded, though there was still a knot in her stomach. She knew nothing would ever be the same, but at that moment, under Piluca’s firm gaze, all she could do was muster a weak smile.
"I suppose so... I just hope I won’t regret it later."
Piluca let out a small laugh and leaned in to kiss Jessica's cheek.
Jessica stared at her reflection in the mirror, trying to come to terms with the new bob cut with the lightly shaved nape. Her heart was pounding, and there was something about the feeling of the exposed skin that made her feel naked. For a moment, she thought it was all over, that she could now breathe a sigh of relief, but Piluca’s soft, persuasive voice soon brought her back to reality.
"You know, Jessica?" Piluca began, slowly circling her and stopping behind her. "I'm so proud of you. You've taken a step that many women wouldn’t dare take. And you look incredible, but... I still feel we can do something more. Something that will truly make you shine."
Jessica opened her eyes, trying to find her voice, to say something, but before she could, Piluca leaned in closer, whispering in a sweet but firm tone.
"Look, darling, I'm just thinking how great a bolder change would look on you. A bowl cut—something that gives you a bold, modern vibe, makes you stand out wherever you go." Piluca paused, taking the hand mirror and showing Jessica the back of her head. "Look at yourself. With a bowl cut, we could make the most of this shaved nape and elevate it a bit more. Keep the hair on top long, down to the eyebrows, but perfectly aligned, encircling your entire head elegantly."
Jessica blinked, feeling her stomach clench. She looked in the mirror and then at Piluca, searching for a way to get out of the situation without losing her composure.
"No... Piluca, I think this is already enough. I don’t want to go further. This bob is already a big change for me, and I'm not sure a bowl cut is what I want." Her voice sounded unsure, and her hands trembled slightly under the cape.
Piluca didn’t miss a beat. She leaned closer, her eyes fixed on Jessica’s in the mirror. Her words were soft, like a caress, but charged with intention.
"Jessica, listen. Trust me. Look at yourself, okay?" she said, gently turning the chair so Jessica could see herself from different angles. "This cut is beautiful, yes, but it’s still halfway there. I feel that if we don’t take the next step, you’ll regret it. The bowl cut is perfect for you—it frames your face, brings out your eyes, and there’s nothing more elegant and distinctive than that clean line right at eyebrow level, encircling your entire head."
Jessica felt Piluca’s voice pulling her, like an unstoppable current that wrapped around her, dragging her farther from the safe shore where she wanted to stay. Piluca’s words were seductive, full of a promise of change, of something new and exciting, and despite the fear, a small part of Jessica began to yield.
"But... what if I look strange? I don’t want to feel... exposed," Jessica tried to say, though her voice was barely a whisper.
Piluca smiled and looked at her with an expression full of understanding and determination.
"You won’t look strange, darling. You’ll look spectacular. This cut isn’t for just anyone. It’s for someone with confidence, with character, and that’s what you are, even if you don’t see it yet. It's just one more step, one more small adjustment. I promise it’ll be nothing you regret." Her voice was a convincing whisper, enveloping, like a sweet poison slowly taking over.
Jessica stayed silent. She looked at her reflection, then at Piluca, then back at her reflection. There was something about the intensity in Piluca’s eyes that made her feel she couldn’t escape. Something that pushed her to say yes, even though everything inside her was screaming otherwise.
Finally, she sighed and closed her eyes.
"Alright, Piluca. Just... just do it. But I don’t want it to be too much. Just make it look nice, nothing more," she gave in at last, her voice breaking with resignation.
Piluca smiled broadly, triumphant.
"Perfect, darling. I promise it’ll be wonderful."
Piluca picked up the scissors and began working with precision. She started on the top, separating the hair into clear sections and aligning them skillfully. The first cut was firm and clean, leaving the hair just at eyebrow level. The sound of the scissors filled the room, and each "snip" echoed like a drumbeat in Jessica’s chest. The hairdresser made sure the hair was perfectly straight, a sharp, defined edge that encircled her entire head.
"Very good, darling, we’re making progress. This is what you needed—a strong, clear line framing your face," murmured Piluca as she continued cutting, creating an even layer of hair at eyebrow level. Jessica watched the hair fall to her feet, thick locks that had been her refuge for so long.
When Piluca finished with the scissors, Jessica looked at her reflection and could hardly recognize the woman in the mirror. The hairline was sharp, encircling her head in a uniform way, with almost surgical precision. But before she could react, the buzzing of the clippers filled the room again.
"And now, let’s give the final touch to the sides and the nape, so this cut has the personality it deserves," Piluca said, adjusting the clippers to level one.
Jessica’s eyes shot open, seeing the clippers approach the sides of her head. She wanted to protest, but couldn’t. The words stuck in her throat, suffocated by fear and the weight of expectations.
The clippers first went over her sideburns, removing the hair and leaving the skin exposed. The contrast between the long hair encircling her head and the completely shaved sides was shocking. The sensation of the clippers moving over her skin was strange, cold, and Jessica closed her eyes, trying to breathe deeply as the buzzing continued.
Piluca worked with concentration, ensuring that the shaved line was perfect, going up the nape and creating a well-defined contour. Each pass of the clippers left a smooth, polished strip, and Jessica could feel the difference with every movement. The nape, now higher and completely shaved, exposed the skin, while the hair above it fell in a marked, straight line down to the eyebrows.
"There you go, Jessica. This is truly a spectacular change. Look at yourself, darling. It’s you, but in your best version." Piluca slowly turned the chair so Jessica could see her new look from all angles.
Jessica opened her eyes and looked at her reflection. It was a radical change—a huge leap from the bob she had just minutes ago. The straight line of the bowl cut encircled her head with near-perfect symmetry, while the sides and nape were completely shaved to level one, leaving barely a shadow of hair.
"It’s..." Jessica couldn’t find the words. She felt a mix of emotions—fear, surprise, a kind of emptiness, and a strange sense of release. "I don’t know what to say, Piluca. I feel so... different."
Piluca smiled and placed her hands on Jessica’s shoulders.
"That’s the idea, darling. Sometimes we need to see ourselves differently to discover who we really are. And you, darling, you look spectacular."
Jessica swallowed, still feeling the coolness of her freshly shaved nape and sides. She looked at Piluca, trying to smile, though there was still a knot in her stomach.
"I hope you’re right, Piluca. Because I feel like this is a huge change..."
Piluca met her gaze with that same unshakable confidence.
"Trust me, Jessica. Everything we’re doing is to show the world how amazing you are. And I know that when you leave here, you’ll feel more powerful than ever."
Jessica stared at her reflection in the mirror, and the face that stared back was completely strange to her. The straight line of the bowl cut fell just at eyebrow level, creating a rigid, severe frame around her face. The sides and nape, shaved to level one, exposed the skin even more, highlighting the contrast with the long strip of hair remaining on top. Her cheeks were flushed, and her eyes looked like they were about to spill tears. There was something so overwhelming about that change, so far removed from who she thought she was.
How am I going to present myself like this to my clients? Jessica thought, feeling shame strike her chest. The image of herself walking into her office, her clients looking at her in surprise, maybe in mockery, seemed unbearable. The Jessica who had so carefully maintained her image throughout her life was now unrecognizable, and the feeling of defeat was crushing.
She began to get up from the chair, her body trembling and her gaze fixed on the ground. She needed to get out of there, needed to hide, find some corner where she could process what had happened without feeling the pressure of that barber chair and those seemingly relentless lights.
But before she could take a step toward freedom, Piluca’s firm hand stopped her. Jessica lifted her gaze to the mirror and saw Piluca's determined expression reflected there.
"Jessica, darling, we’re not done yet," Piluca said, her voice soft but filled with a force that Jessica couldn’t contradict. Their eyes met in the mirror, and Jessica felt something inside her crumble, as if she no longer had the strength to resist.
"No... Piluca, I can’t take any more. It’s... it’s enough. I can’t present myself like this, I can’t..." The words came out in gasps, and Jessica tried to look away, her eyes blurred by tears that fought to come out.
But Piluca leaned down, placing both hands on Jessica’s shoulders, and with a firm, confident voice, began to speak.
"Jessica, look at me. Trust me, alright? What we’ve done so far is incredible, but I know deep down you’re still scared. Scared of what people will think, scared of leaving behind the comfort zone that has always kept you trapped." Piluca paused, looking at her intently. "But that’s not what I want for you. I want you to be free of that burden. There’s just one more adjustment, something that will make you feel even more powerful."
Jessica shook her head, trying to fight against the urge to give in, but Piluca's words were like a drug, numbing her will, enveloping her in a kind of sweet, bitter resignation.
"Piluca, it’s enough... it's already enough. I don’t want more..." Jessica tried to say, but her voice was barely a weak murmur, a shadow of the firmness she had tried to maintain.
Piluca looked at her with a serene smile, her tone becoming almost maternal.
"Just one more small adjustment, darling. Let’s finish shaping the cut, make it truly bring out the best in you. A radical pixie cut. Let’s make the sides and back even more defined, and give the top more structure. It's one more step, Jessica, and after this, I promise you’ll be done. You’ll look strong, bold, like you always should have looked."
Jessica looked at Piluca through the mirror, then at herself. Tears started to roll down her cheeks, and though she tried to fight the urge to give in, there wasn’t enough willpower left inside her. She knew Piluca wouldn’t let her go until she had reached what she considered her perfect vision.
"Do what you have to do, Piluca," she whispered at last, closing her eyes as the tears kept falling.
Piluca smiled, a smile full of determination, and without wasting any time, picked up the clippers and adjusted them even more. The buzzing filled the room once again, and Jessica felt the vibration in the sides of her head as the length of the cut was reduced even further, leaving what little hair remained as a fine shadow, almost down to the scalp.
The sideburns disappeared completely, the nape was shaved higher, and the sides were reduced to the minimum, leaving only the top with some length, a pixie cut that left her face completely exposed. Piluca worked with ruthless precision; each pass of the clippers was meticulous, leaving the skin smooth and cold.
When she was done, Jessica looked at herself in the mirror, and what she saw was a completely different version of herself. The top of her hair had been trimmed into an asymmetric, structured style, while the sides and nape were exposed, covered by just a shadow. Her cheeks were still flushed, her eyes glassy, but she couldn’t stop staring at her own image.
"You’re going to be alright, Jessica. This is what you’ve always needed," Piluca said, placing her hands on Jessica’s shoulders. "Look at yourself. You’re strong, you’re incredible, and the world needs to see that too."
Jessica nodded slowly, too tired to say anything else. She knew she had crossed a threshold from which there was no return, and as she looked at the image of the woman in the mirror, she tried to find within herself something that could accept what had happened. At least, for now, there were no more cuts to endure.
Jessica remained seated in the chair, her eyes still glassy, trying to find some strength inside her. After the pixie cut, she thought the process was over, but once again, she was wrong. Piluca wasn't done with her. The pressure and persuasion of Piluca had dragged her towards something else—something Jessica never imagined she would accept.
"Darling, there’s still one more step. A necessary step to truly set yourself free. We’re going to do this right, without compromises. We’re going to give you a cut that’s as clean and radical as what you've accomplished inside today," Piluca said, picking up the clippers and coming closer again.
Jessica closed her eyes, knowing there was no turning back. This time, she couldn’t resist. She felt that any internal struggle had disappeared, that any attempt to say no had vanished. The only thing left was the desire to end it all and accept the inevitable.
"Do it, Piluca. Just finish already, please," she whispered, her voice broken by exhaustion.
Piluca nodded and adjusted the clippers. This time, she set them to the lowest possible shaving level—level zero. She turned on the clippers, and the buzzing filled the room. Then, Piluca positioned herself behind Jessica and began shaving the back of her head. She started at the nape, right at the base, and slowly moved upward, running the clippers all the way to the crown.
Each pass was meticulous and precise. The clippers cut off the little hair that remained, leaving the skin smooth and bare. Jessica felt the vibration traveling across her skull, and the cold air of the salon hitting the skin now completely exposed. Piluca continued shaving Jessica’s nape, moving upwards with each pass until reaching the crown, making sure not a single trace of hair remained.
Then, Piluca moved to the sides of the head. She started with the sideburns, shaving them down to the skin, and then moved up the sides, running the clippers just above the temples. All the hair on the sides disappeared, leaving the skin soft and shiny. Jessica could feel the cold extending across her scalp as Piluca ensured each pass left the skin clean, with no trace of hair.
When she finished shaving most of the head, Piluca changed the setting on the clippers to a slightly higher level, creating a fade that would gradually increase. She began at the top, right where the previous shaving ended, and started creating a gradient that went from level zero to 0.5, and then to one. She ran the clippers carefully, starting at the crown and moving towards the front, creating a smooth transition from the shaved skin to the slight hair that remained.
The fade was subtle but made a difference. It created a progression from the fully shaved skin to the little hair left on the top of the head, blending the areas harmoniously. Piluca moved with precision, running the clippers over and over again, ensuring the gradient was perfect. From the nape, the hair went from being shaved down to a small remnant of length near the fringe.
The result was an impressive contrast: most of the head was shaved, with the skin completely exposed, and only a slight fade that led towards the fringe, creating a smooth transition between the shaved part and the little hair that remained.
Without giving Jessica a chance to process what had already happened, Piluca picked up a brush and began applying shaving foam over the completely shaved part of Jessica's head. The white foam quickly covered the nape, the sides, and climbed just above the temples and crown, leaving the faded part still visible. Jessica felt the brush move firmly, distributing the cold foam over her skin. Each touch made her aware of how exposed she was, and even more so of the environment she was in. Around her, other well-dressed, sophisticated women, with long manes or elaborate hairstyles, were seated in their chairs getting color treatments or cuts, and some glanced at the spectacle that Jessica had become.
Jessica felt out of place, deeply embarrassed. She tried to look away, closing her eyes so as not to face the curious expressions of the women who shared the salon with her. Her face burned, and she could feel the tears welling up in her eyes again, but she was so exhausted she could no longer react. All she could do was wait for the process to end.
Piluca picked up the barber razor and, with a decisive movement, began shaving Jessica's head. The first pass was at the nape, from the base and moving upwards towards the crown, with the blade sliding slowly and carefully over the foam-covered skin. The feeling of the cold metal against her scalp was impactful, making her feel vulnerable in a way she had never imagined. Each stroke of the razor was meticulous, leaving the skin shiny and smooth, with no trace of hair.
Piluca continued with the back of the head, making firm, precise strokes. The blade slid upwards, removing the foam and any small vestige of hair that might have remained. Then she moved to the sides, starting with the sideburns and moving up towards the temples. Each movement was slow, almost ceremonial, and the salon was so quiet that the sound of the blade scraping against the skin was the only thing that could be heard. Jessica didn’t know where to put herself. The silence, the stares, the feeling of the cold air hitting her freshly shaved skin—everything was too much, but she had no choice but to endure it.
Piluca made sure each area was perfectly clean, going over some spots again to make sure there wasn’t a single hair left out of place. Finally, she moved to the top, where the foam covered the crown and part of the sides. She ran the razor with the same precision, leaving the skin smooth and shiny, while Jessica kept her eyes closed, trying not to think about the spectacle she was giving.
When she finished, Piluca wiped off the foam residue with a damp towel, revealing Jessica's smooth, perfectly shaved skin. The feeling was completely different: the contact of the cold air on her freshly shaven skin was like a jolt of reality, something telling her that there was nothing left of her old image.
Jessica slowly opened her eyes as Piluca turned off the clippers and stepped back a bit to let her see the result. Her head was now mostly shaved, with skin exposed from the nape up above the temples and over the crown. Only a small fade towards the fringe gave some softness to the cut. The image in the mirror was shocking: it was an absolutely radical cut, something she never would have imagined for herself.
Piluca smiled, placing a firm hand on Jessica's shoulder.
"There you have it, darling. This is pure liberation. There’s nothing left to hide you now. This is the real you—no barriers, no fears. You’re ready to face the world in a way you’ve never imagined before."
Jessica raised a trembling hand to her head, running her fingers over the shaved skin, feeling the smoothness and the contrast of the slight fade at the top. Her eyes were still watery, her cheeks flushed, but something inside her began to accept what she saw. There was no way back—there was no hair to hold onto anymore. Only that exposed skin remained, and the undeniable fact that, for the first time, she had nothing left to hide.
"I hope... I hope I can get used to this, Piluca," Jessica said, her voice still trembling.
Piluca nodded, looking at her with a satisfied smile.
"You will, Jessica. And when you do, you’ll see how strong you are. No more fear. Just you, authentic and free."
Jessica got up from the chair, wobbling a little. The sensation of the cold air against her freshly shaved head was overwhelming, but it also gave her a sense of lightness she had never felt before.
When she left the salon, the night wind brushed against her head, accentuating the sense of emptiness she felt. She got into her car in the underground parking lot by the pier and placed her trembling hands on the steering wheel. As she started the engine, her thoughts kept returning to Cristina and what she had said. That haircut, that betrayal by the hairdresser.
I couldn’t, I would never be able to, she had repeated to herself all afternoon. But now, as she watched her own shadow reflected in the shop windows, reality screamed the opposite: she had been able to do it.
And, for the first time in a long while, Jessica felt like she didn’t know who the woman staring back at her in the rearview mirror was.