You're sitting in the middle of Rachel's disaster of a living room, on a kitchen chair she dragged in from the other room. Despite living here for months now, you've given up trying to clean, your caretaker's habits makes that a losing battle. She circles behind you with scissors, wearing that faded green tank top, the fabric worn thin over the years. It's probably older than you are, you think. Then the snipping finally stops.
"There we go!" Rachel ruffles the back of your head enthusiastically. "See? I told you short hair would work on you!"
Your head feels strangely light. You glance down at the floor covered in wavy strawberry-blonde strands. They used to be part of you. Not anymore.
"What, did I fuck it up?"
Rachel ducks into your field of view, wearing that expression she gets when she's not sure if she messed up but finds it funny either way
"No, it's fine. I just..." You touch the bare skin at the back of your neck. "I've had long hair for as long as I can remember."
"Exactly!" She straightens up, triumphant. "You were long overdue for a change, Anna. Trust me, that little dude you like won't be able to look away now."
Your face warms. "Please stop."
She grins wider, clearly delighted.
"So, synch training today, right?" Rachel asks, kicking loose hair into a pile. "Who'd they pair you with?"
"Florence."
"Ah. The creepy one."
"She's not creepy," you say, a little too quickly.
"Nah, she kinda is." Rachel turns sharply, scissors aimed your way. "Don't tell her I said that."
"I won't."
"Good girl." She tosses the scissors onto her desk with a clatter. "Oh! Since you're heading down to the geofront anyway, mind swinging by Section 2 offices? They're holding a package for me. You know where that is, right?"
"Yes. I can do that."
Rachel stops mid-movement, eyeing you suspiciously. "Wait. No complaints? No negotiating? I had a whole bribe prepared."
You stand, brushing loose hairs from your shoulders. "Do you want your package or not?"
"Wow, ice cold. Maybe the creepy one is actually yo- ow ow ow!" You pinch the soft flesh of her upper arm and twist. She yelps and tries to wriggle free, but you've got the angle. When you release her, she stumbles back, rubbing her arm and grinning.
"Creepy AND violent. They really stuck me with the problem child, huh?"
Ignoring her last comment, you head toward your room, but catch yourself in the hallway mirror. Short hair. Exposed ears. Your whole neck and jawline visible. It looks like someone else.
"It really does look good, you know." Rachel's voice is quieter now. You glance back. She's leaning against the doorframe, sincere for once.
"...Yeah. It does."
The lie comes easier than you expected.
>Go straight to synch prep. Get your head in the right space early.
>Find Florence first. You can head down to the geofront together.
>Grab Rachel's package now. Get it out of the way.
