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The discovery of Marie’s hair care journey starts off like this:
Marie’s really only hanging out at Minju’s house because there’s really nothing better to do. Juwan’s travelling with family, Hara’s out of town for some judo competition, Eunyung is probably growing his empire of fangirls from his sightings at his part-time jobs, and Haejoon is probably studying like the good kid he is.
It’s not like Marie doesn’t have a life or anything. It’s just that Minju’s the only person who doesn’t have any activities to do, and Marie would rather sleepover at her house than go to Daegu and visit the same old museums again. Point is, there’s not really anyone else to interact with except for. Well. Minju , and if she wants to get away from her dad and her brother, this is the only option she’ll have.
Besides, being at Minju’s house doesn’t actually suck. After reliving your childhood trauma through a friend who might go through the same said trauma, you’d ought to have at least some semblance of connection. Marie never really worked out on what her friendship with Minju is. They’re just… Always together, she supposes, and there’s nothing Marie can really do about it.
Today marks day 6 of her sleepover with Minju, and it’s the same as always. They get up together, decently early, when the sun barely peeks out and leaves a trace of yellow on the skyline that bleeds with the blue, and their routine follows: skip breakfast, eat a meal with a portion the size of what a 6-foot-6 athlete needs, lay down and talk in bed all day, go outside (occasionally, when the feeling of boredom outweighs the feeling of laziness), and just after dinner Minju will spend hours doing one activity that she pleases.
Today, it seems, the activity she’s chosen to do is sitting down on her carpet and playing with Marie’s hair. For about 4 hours straight.
“Why is your hair so short?” Minju asks, loosely threading through her hair. Her curls twirl around her fingers, and she plays with it like one of those rainbow slinkies that Marie had when she was little.
It’s a question Marie’s received since childhood. There are multiple factors and reasons for her hair being short; for starters, it’s relatively easier maintenance, twice as fast to brush and wash, and her face suits shorter hair better. There’s no actual reason to grow her hair out. Shorter hair is just… Superior.
Also, the one time she grew her hair out her brother got bubblegum stuck all over the ends of it, which took 4 hours, a bottle of shampoo and 3 hair brushes to completely wash and brush out, and even if Marie’s brother doesn’t do that anymore, keeping it short prevents any other accidents from occuring. She doesn’t want to admit that to Minju, though, so she settles for a simpler answer;
“Brushing and washing my hair is so tiring,” Marie sighs, leaning into the pillow beneath her. “I think I’ve broken, like, four brushes in a week before when my oppa forced me to brush it cause he said it looked like a bird's nest.”
“I don’t think your hair doesn’t look like a bird’s nest," Minju comments, pulling her hand away. She leans back on the couch and it shifts. “And, unless you wash your hair everyday, breaking those many brushes shouldn’t be possible. I mean, I only wash my hair twice a week, so I can only break two brushes a week at maximum. I use a good conditioner, though, so I’ve never broken a hairbrush before.”
“Shaddap, my hair’s just dry, that’s why I broke so many— wait, wait,” Marie pauses, rising from the pillow beneath her and furrowing her brows, “What did you just say? Aren’t you supposed to wash your hair everyday?”
“...Marie. How many times do you wash your hair in a week?” Minju asks, exasperated, like Marie’s just told her that aliens exist and that she’s one of them.
“Once a day. Once every two days, if I feel too tired, but—“
“What,” Minju says, and it’s the most surprised she’s ever sounded. Her shocked face doesn’t last long, though, and she immediately laughs and regains her composure. “Haha. That’s a funny joke~”
“I’m not joking, though,” Marie promises, and she shifts her body to look at Minju, because there’s no way Minju doesn’t wash her hair everyday. Minju’s hair is just so shiny, and as much as Marie doesn’t want to admit it, it always looks really good, but the only way to achieve that look is by cleanliness, right?
Minju gapes. Slowly, she reaches out to grasp a tuft of Marie’s hair, feeling it in between her fingers and pulling apart just as slowly. Minju frowns. “Marie. How… How is your hair still alive ?”
Marie blinks. Washing her hair daily has been something she’s done for years, and her hair isn’t all that bad. Sure, maybe it’s a bit brittle, and if the amount of hair loss she has in a week was collected it could probably be used to make a wig. But washing her hair everyday isn’t that bad. It even makes her hair less frizzy. “Aren’t you supposed to wash your hair everyday…?”
“No…? Marie, your hair is wavy, you’re not supposed to wash it everyday, silly. Don’t tell me you’re brushing it everyday too?”
“Of course I brush my hair everyday. My oppa says that my hair looks weird when I don’t brush it,” Marie says, pinching her hair between her fingers, “I mean, I guess it does hurt, and I’ve broken, like, thousands of brushes before, but… but I don’t really mind!”
“Don’t listen to your brother~ he wouldn’t understand. Okay, well, when’s the last time you’ve washed your hair?”
“Um. Two days ago, I think. Felt a bit lazy. Why?”
“Okay. That’s not too bad,” Minju assures, and Marie feels more lost than ever. “Okay, then let’s wash your hair!”
It’s 10. In the night. Marie doesn’t have the patience or energy to do anything other than watch stupid romcoms on the television, much less wash her hair, so Marie prepares to decline, but —
Minju grabs her hand. Ever so softly. “Pleaseee,” Minju pleads, “I’ll wash it for you. I’ve always wanted to try to become a hairstylist for a day. Don’t worry, I have a bunch of products. C’mon~ let’s go!”
… And for some reason, as of lately, it’s been getting harder to reject Minju, so Marie slumps her shoulders and allows Minju to drag her to the bathroom.
—
Minju’s bathroom, like everything else in her house, is huge.
The tile is white and pristine, and in the centre of her bathroom there’s a bathtub the size of a car. Marie’s only used the guest bathroom so far, and even though she thought that was big, it pales in comparison to Minju’s personal bathroom.
Next to the bathtub, there’s a small wooden chair that Minju makes Marie sit in.
Minju rolls up her sleeves. “Right, let’s start!”
“I don’t want to shower again,” Marie groans, but she complies anyway.
“You don’t have to shower, just lean your head back to the tub and I’ll aim the shower head towards your hair. Just sit back and relax, you’re in safe hands! I’m like a professional at this point!” She reassures, and her reassurement just makes Marie more reluctant. Minju and professional should not be in the same sentence. Minju tilts her head towards the tub, and does something to the showerhead.
“This is such a pain in the ass,” Marie comments, “actually, pain in the neck.”
Slowly, Minju rinses Marie’s head. The water is a little cold, and even though winter has just passed, the cold still clings onto the air and Marie shivers.
Minju adds a glop of shampoo to her head and starts rubbing it into Marie’s hair. It’s a little different from Marie’s usual technique; Minju only shampoos the scalp, and she rinses often. Oddly enough, it feels good, and Marie leans into the touch.
“You have 2C hair, I think,” Minju says, rinsing Marie’s hair again. She grabs the shampoo bottle beside Marie and squeezes out a small glop. She rubs it against her palm and bubbles seep out through the gaps of her fingers. “That means your hair shouldn’t be washed everyday. Once or thrice a week is enough. Also, don’t forget to use a conditioner.”
“How’d you know so much about hair care?” Marie comments, bleary, her consciousness ebbing away. The water and shampoo mixture feels damp and cold on her scalp. Talking is the only thing keeping her awake, really; Minju’s exceptionally skillful at rubbing her head. Maybe she should become a masseuse or one of those creambath experts in salons.
“My mom,” Minju answers, grabbing the shower head and rinsing Marie's hair again. “You see, my mom has straight hair, right, and when I was born I had curlier hair than I do now. And it took years for her to find the proper products for my hair, cause apparently it was really frizzy. But then in middle school, we went to an expert and I figured out haircare. That’s why my hair looks amazing.”
“As if,” Marie retorts, even though Minju’s hair is amazing, and Minju playfully splashes water towards Marie. It drips down towards her shirt. That wipes the smirk off of her face. Washing Marie’s hair has stopped and war has begun.
“You have 5 seconds.” Marie threatens, putting her palms together and sinking it into the tub.
“Sorry, couldn’t resist.” Minju laughs, and Marie raises her hands full of water. War has begun.
“…Marie? You’re not going to splash me for real, right? I said sorry! Wait, wait, no, please, ohmygodIjustfinishedwashingmyhairImsorryMARIESTO—”
…And then they’re both soaked. Before they clean up, though, Minju conditions Marie’s head.
“You need to use a conditioner or else your hair will get tangled up,” Minju says, rubbing the conditioner to the ends of Marie’s hair. “And then, you have to detangle your hair first. Afterwards, brush your hair. Never brush your hair dry.”
“Why?”
“It’ll damage your waves. Trust me, I know from experience,” Minju says, and she says it so ominously that Marie doesn’t want to ask.
Marie groans. “This is so much effort.”
“My mom used to do it for me,” Minju admits, starting to detangle Marie’s hair. There’s a dull ache in her scalp when Minju pulls and detangles certain strands, but for the most part, the process is quite relaxing. “My hair is pretty long, right? So I need my mom to help me sometimes.”
That… Sounds nice. It would be nice to have a mom or a sister for change, even if her mom left. Marie supposes she has her aunt, but…
… It’s not the same.
What if her mom stayed? Would she teach Marie how to do stuff like this? Would she help Marie detangle her hair and buy her products and stuff?
That would be nice. Jealousy prickles in her bones, and Marie stays silent the rest of the process.
And maybe it’s exhaustion or maybe it’s the silence, but afterwards, Minju falls asleep on their shared bed right away.
—
Marie can’t sleep.
There are times when there’s too many thoughts in her head. Like a static radio, neverending. When the world is too quiet, her mind is subsequently not .
And if she thinks for too long, then… those memories will start to rise up again, and then she won’t be able to sleep at all.
She can’t stop thinking about what life would be like with her mother. Would she have loved Marie? Or would she have treated Marie like her dad treats her? Would her brother be nicer? The possibilities are endless, and…
Marie feels dampness on her cheeks.
Oh.
That’s not good. Marie sniffles, trying to stay as quiet as she can so that she won’t wake—
“Are you okay?” Minju slurs, sleepiness evident in her tone. Marie tries to blink the tears away. She nods.
“Is it about our fight at the bathroom? I’m sorry,” Minju apologises, and Marie is once again reminded about how thoughtful Minju actually is.
“N-No, of course not. I found that funny,” Marie laughs, but tears start to fall from her eyes and she has to keep her mouth shut to prevent anymore from coming out.
Why is she crying? There’s no reason to be crying. It was fun hanging out with Minju. It’s just.
Marie could’ve been like Minju. She could’ve been really good at haircare, or skincare, or making friends, or anything else Minju’s really good at if she had a mom like hers, too. And it’s not exactly like Minju’s life is perfect, or anything, but the feeling of missing out stings more than it should’ve.
Guilt prickles her bones. Minju’s struggling too. Marie shouldn’t feel jealous of her.
… But Marie is. She’s jealous of how ‘perfect’ Minju is; how, despite everything, Minju can still be all cool and pretty and smart. It’s not like Marie’s that special of anything. They both went through pretty much the exact same thing, but Minju seems okay and Marie’s still having nightmares about stupid shit that happened years —
“It’s okay,” Minju reassures, and Marie’s never heard a voice as calming as hers, “It’s going to be okay.”
“Sorry,” Marie slurs, rubbing her eyes to keep the tears from falling out. “I just. I don’t fucking know, it’s stupid, go to sleep.”
“I can’t go to sleep if you’re sad,” Minju admits, rubbing circles in Marie’s head.
“…Shit. Sorry.”
“Don’t be.”
Maybe it’s the soothingness of her voice, maybe it’s the circles being rubbed against her head, or maybe it’s the comfort of having someone there for her, but Marie suddenly feels at peace, and slowly, she closes her eyes.
…Even if she’ll never stop feeling this way, at least she has Minju by her side.