Ryeowook and his father were in the barber shop, tidying up after an early morning weekend customer. The store was quiet, the parking lot deserted, the chill from an uncharacteristically frosty winter breeze deterring people from leaving their houses even as midday approached. New Year’s Day had just passed, and the dark days of cold, gloomy winter loomed ahead. 

The barber finished sweeping up, throwing the leftover hair in the garbage. He filled two glasses of water from the cooler behind the counter, walked over to the waiting area and sat down. 

“Ryeowook-ah,” he called his son. “Come over here. Let’s take a break.” 

The boy dutifully made his way over to the seat beside his father and sat himself down, yawning. He took the offered glass and took some dainty sips, kicking his feet back and forth. 

Mr. Kim sighed, feeling awkward.

“So, you know that Kyuhyunnie’s coming later today, right?” 

Ryeowook perked up. 

“Ah, Kyuhyunnie is coming?!” 

The barber ran his hands through his hair, unsure how to continue. 

“Look, Ryeowook-ah, there’s something that I need to talk about with you seriously.” He paused. “You know that umma and I raised you up to be a boy that is strong-willed, full of hopes and dreams, who isn’t afraid of speaking up and doing what you think is right, right?” 

The boy nodded. 

“But, Ryeowookie, not all parents are the same as us. Some parents teach their kids to be…different.” 

“Eh, different?” 

“Yes, sometimes parents want their kids to be just like them. Or even want them to be completely the opposite. They don’t let their kids choose what they want to be.” 

“But why not?” The boy looked confused. 

“Everyone has different reasons. Usually it’s because their ummas and appas want them to become successful in the future.” 

“Oh, well then you should be proud of me, appa!” 

The barber froze, mystified. 

“I’m always proud of you son, but what are you talking about?” 

“Tsk tsk, appa, I’m going to become a successful singer in the future. So you don’t have to worry about me.” 

“Ah. Well, you see Ryeowookie, that’s the issue.” 

“Eh? Issue? Are you going to be like Kyuhyunnie’s appa and tell me not to be singer?”

Mr. Kim looked miffed. 

“He said that to you? I thought he only talked to you about being more responsible.” 

Ryeowook shook his head vigorously, getting worked up. 

“He said that singing isn’t prac-ti-cal and that my best isn’t enough and that dreams should be dreams or something like that. And then, and then he- he told Kyuhyunnie to stay away from me at music camp.” Tears started filling his eyes. “I thought Kyuhyunnie didn’t like me anymore!” 

“That’s quite…rude.” The man’s lips were pressed together in a thin line. 

“Kyuhyunnie isn’t rude! He said sorry lots of times and hugged me lots of times and said I’m his best friend! And he sang me a song to make it up to me!” He wailed, sniffing. 

“No, I wasn’t talking about Kyuhyunnie, Ryeowook-ah.” The man hugged his son and mussed up his hair. “Anyway, what I wanted to say is that Kyuhyunnie’s appa has a different approach from umma and I.” 

The boy wiped his nose with his sleeve. 

“Approach?” 

“Yes. Mr. Cho is raising Kyuhyun in a different way. He wants Kyuhyunnie to be successful in the future but in a way that is guaranteed. That means that he wants to be very very sure that Kyuhyun will be successful in the future and make lots of money, just like him.” 

“Eh, but for singing-“ 

“Singing isn’t as guaranteed, Ryeowook-ah. There are a lot of singers in the world, but only some of them become famous and make lots of money. Because of this, Mr. Cho doesn’t want his son to think of music as anything more than a hobby.” 

Ryeowook chewed on his lip, pausing to mull over his father’s words. 

“Is it really like that?” 

The man nodded. 

“But that’s not fair to Kyuhyunnie! He should do what he likes!” 

“I know, Ryeowookie. But every family is different and sometimes we have to accept that.”

“Well, I don’t like that.” He stared at his feet, unhappy.

“I know, Ryeowook-ah, but we have to respect the way Kyuhyunnie’s family works, ok? That means that when you’re talking to Kyuhyunnie, you shouldn’t talk about the future or singing or music. Try talking about other things like games or-“

“I can’t do that. Kyuhyunnie loves music. He was singing so happily at camp,” he whined quietly. 

Mr. Kim smiled affectionately at his stubborn son. 

“Fine, then let’s do this.”

Ryeowook looked up, curious. 

“Do what, appa?” 

“We’ll make a promise.” He lowered his voice to a whisper. “We won’t talk about music or following your dreams with Kyuhyunnie only when Mr. Cho is around, okay?”

He held out his little finger, waiting for his son. 

Ryeowook smiled. 

“Okay!” And he entwined his little finger with his father’s, beaming. 

The man returned his son’s smile. 

“Oh, and there’s another thing…” Mr. Kim hesitated, his smile now faltering. 

“What is it appa?” 

“Well, Mr. Cho asked if you could stop doing things like hug-“ He stopped, shaking his head at himself in disgust. “Actually, forget it. That man can deal with it,” he finished, irritated. 

Ryeowook cocked his head, curious. 

“Ignore me Ryeowookie. Why don’t you work on planning a new hairstyle for Kyuhyun-ah? He’ll be here soon.” 

The boy nodded blankly and got up, humming. He languidly made his way towards the stairs, stopping abruptly when he saw a magazine on the stand, a shot of a famous singer passionately belting out a song taking up the whole front cover. He furrowed his brows, thinking hard for a few seconds then gasped, his eyes opening wide. He giggled deviously in satisfaction. 

“I’ll go work on it now appa! I’m going to use your computer okay?” He ran off upstairs. 

Hours later, Ryeowook returned downstairs, eyes twinkling as he studied a piece of paper, a mischevious grin painted on his face. When he heard the doorbell tinkle, he jumped in shock and hastily stuffed the sheet into his apron, looking shifty-eyed. He spun around just in time to see a boy enter the barber shop, clad in a large branded parka. He was tall, with black hair that was so long it covered more than half his face. His fur-lined hood was up, further hiding the boy’s face. 

“Welcome to the Kim’s barber shop!” Ryeowook and his father greeted instinctively. 

“Long time no see Shrimpy,” said a familiar voice. 

Ryeowook gasped. 

“Kyuhyunnie, is that you?” 

Kyuhyun pulled his fringe back, exposing his face, and smirked. 

“Whoa, what happened to your hair?” 

“This stubborn boy refused to let anyone touch his hair other than you, Ryeowook-ah, or your appa,” said Mr. Cho as he entered the store and took off his coat. “Because of that, we had to come back. If we didn’t, Kyuhyun would have turned into a girl.” He guffawed then turned to the barber. “I expect all due protocols will be followed today, hm?” He gave Mr. Kim a curt nod then marched off towards his usual spot in the waiting area. However this time he didn’t pick up a magazine, instead sitting upright and rigid in his chair, observing.

Kyuhyun sent his father an annoyed glance then turned to Ryeowook and puffed out his chest proudly. 

“I haven’t cut my hair since I had that haircut at camp, Ryeowookie.” 

Mr. Kim raised an eyebrow. 

“Oh? Kyuhyun-ah had a haircut at camp?” 

Ryeowook nodded. 

“Mm-hmm, I told the barber at camp what to do. His hair was so messy, appa! I had to!” 

“That’s great, Ryeowook-ah! Exactly what a young up-and-coming barber should do,” added in Mr. Cho, nodding. He was quite obviously eavesdropping on the conversation. 

“But- but I don’t want to be a barber, I want to be a si-“ Ryeowook stopped short, frowned, then looked at his father for guidance, not knowing what to say due to his recent promise. Mr. Kim rolled his eyes and turned to Kyuhyun, who was standing by Ryeowook, giving his friend a curious look, clearly wondering why he stopped mid-sentence 

“Take off your jacket then come on over and take a seat, Kyuhyun-ah,” Mr. Kim said, getting the barber chair ready. “Hm, well, actually it looks like you’ve officially outgrown the booster seat. You’re going to be just as tall as me soon.” 

“Just like me,” added in Ryeowook smugly. 

Kyuhyun laughed as he settled into the barber chair, straight-backed and regal, proud of being able to sit without the use of the booster seat. 

“Maybe you’ll reach half of your appa’s height someday, Shrimpy. And a quarter of mine.” He stuck his tongue out at Ryeowook. 

“Hmph, I’ve been growing a lot this year. The marks on the wall are going up faster and faster. Umma says I’m growing like a weed.” 

“Don’t get him started Kyuhyunnie,” commented the barber. “Recently he’s been doing everything he can to get taller - even hanging upside down on the jungle gy-“ 

“AHEM.” Ryeowook coughed loudly, “Appa, don’t you think it’s time we started the haircut?” 

Kyuhyun and Mr. Kim both smirked. 

“This time, I’ll describe the haircut for you with words okay? I didn’t make a picture.” Ryeowook pulled out the previously crumpled piece of paper from his apron and smoothed it out carefully.

The barber looked at Ryeowook curiously. He noticed his son was fiddling with his fringe and not making eye contact – the typical ‘up-to-something’ look of his son. 

“Ryeowook-ah, what-“ 

“So, what you have to do,” the boy said mechanically as he read from the sheet of paper, “is crop the back and sides short around the ears but clipper the very bottom. The top has to be jaggedy to achieve shape and texture and be slightly longer and be styled upwards for height and shape. Then you must apply product to pinch through to the ends in the front. We should use the special gel.” 

“That’s quite…well researched, Ryeowook-ah. It sounds a bit odd,” commented the barber. 

“Don’t worry. I looked it up on the internet and I’m sure it’ll look great on Kyuhyunnie’s head!” The boy winked. 

“If you say so, Ryeowookie,” the barber said uncertainly, still looking at his son with suspicion. “What do you think Kyuhyun-ah?” 

Kyuhyun looked between the barber and Ryeowook with confusion. 

“It’s good…I guess?” he replied uncertainly. 

Mr. Cho peered at the trio from the waiting area, still obviously watching them. 

“Are you sure son?” 

Kyuhyun gulped then nodded. 

“Great! Good choice Kyuhyunnie!” Ryeowook unleashed a flurry of thumbs up signs at the boy before continuing on, “I’ll go get the special gel from upstairs.” And he sashayed off. 

“I’m not sure what my son’s up to, but I’ll make sure to find out later Kyuhyun-ah,” said the barber as he started to work on the boy’s hair. “He spent a lot of time on my computer – even cutting into my precious lunchtime gaming session - looking up the terminology for the hairstyle. But I’m pretty sure I saw a crumpled up drawing somewhere there too. Why he didn’t just show me the drawing instead is a bit suspicious, don’t you think? Looks like I have some detective work to do.”

Kyuhyun nodded, distracted. 

“Mister, you like farm games, right? You play them on the computer? That’s so old-school!” 

“Yes,” Mr. Kim replied, ignoring the latter part of the boy’s comment. “Actually Ryeowook took so much time on my computer that my poor watermelon plants passed the harvesting period and became rotten. I could have sold those watermelons for $10 each and bought the new flowerbed. It was high season too! It was so sad Kyuhyun-ah; I asked my wife to go buy a watermelon from the grocery store for dinner so I could eat it to make me feel better. At least my peony plants lived. Just barely though. I only got half price for those. And now my timing is off; I don’t even know if I’ll be able to check on my azaleas before I’m done work tonight. And I think there’s supposed to be a sale on gardening equipment – sprinklers are so expensive, you know. And-” He chattered on. 

Kyuhyun’s eyes widened as he listened to the barber. Although he considered himself a game addict, Mr. Kim was at a whole new level of dedication. 

“Mister,” the boy interrupted the man’s ramblings. “Do you have a smartphone? You know there are farming game apps on it too, right?” 

“There are?” asked Mr. Kim, nearly bouncing with excitement. He had already put down the clipper and pulled out his phone. “Show me Kyuhyun-ah, show me!” 

Kyuhyun spent several minutes showing the barber his options and recommending some farming games for his use. By the end, the man’s eyes were glowing. Ryeowook had wandered back into the shop, apprehensive. 

“What happened Kyuhyunnie? Why did appa stop-“ 

“Look at this Ryeowookie,” said the starry-eyed barber, scrolling quickly through his phone. “There are so many games! In this one, you can build the farm from the ground up! And this one, it’s an rpg! And look at the selection of plants on this one – they’re so cuuute.” 

The boy facepalmed. 

“Appa, you’re supposed to be cutting Kyuhyunnie’s hair!” 

“Don’t worry son, let me just-“ 

Ryeowook tugged the phone out of his father’s hand. 

“Appa. Work. Now. Otherwise I’ll tell umma and she won’t buy a watermelon!” 

Mr. Kim deflated. 

“Fine, fine…” 

Ryeowook put the phone down on the side table. 

“Seriously appa, you can play later. Right now, it’s time for Kyuhyunnie’s haircut.” 

The barber picked up the clipper, sending occasional puppy dog glances towards his phone as he resumed cutting the boy’s hair. 

“You seem to really like farm games, Mister,” said Kyuhyun. 

“Yes, when I was younger I wanted to be a farmer. But then I discovered haircutting and decided I wanted to cut hair instead. But the farming passion never died!” he said dramatically. 

“Exactly how it should be!” interjected Mr. Cho. “When I was younger, I wanted to be a policeman. But these days I work as a lawyer and have many friends that are policemen. It goes to show that sometimes your passion must be toned-down for other, much more suitable professions. That’s what a responsible adult does, after all. Some people are lucky enough to have their passions be something that are suitable for them. For example, you’re good at math Kyuhyunnie, so maybe you should go into accounting as well! That’s a respectable field that I can approve of. I have many accountant friends that are very successful. By the way Mr. Kim, did you know Kyuhyunnie won first place in the inter-divisional school math competition last week?” 

“Wow, congratulations Kyuhyun-ah!” said the barber. “Maybe you can tutor Ryeowook-ah. He needs to bring his math grade up – he’s almost failed several times.” 

“But appa, I just don’t get math. I can’t count it on my fingers!” complained Ryeowook. 

Kyuhyun snorted and smirked. 

“Why am I not surprised?” 

“Well, I’m more of a mu-“ The boy stopped midway, then glanced at his father then to Mr. Cho. Kyuhyun raised an eyebrow.

“Um, Ryeowook’s not mathematically-inclined,” finished the barber awkwardly. 

“I’ll bet he spends more time wasting time than doing his math homework,” Kyuhyun said, laughing. 

“Ha ha, yes, that’s right,” the barber answered, still awkward. “Anyway, how about tutoring Ryeowook in math?” 

“Only if he doesn’t pretend to be a fail teacher in return. I don’t learn an~ything from him,” he chortled, laughing at his joke.

“Oi, you, I’m a great mu-“ Ryeowook started aggressively then snapped his mouth shut, wincing, once again directing his eyes to his father for guidance. Kyuhyun looked at his friend, confused. 

“Well, maybe you should just focus on math then Kyuhyun-ah,” the barber said lamely, glancing at Mr. Cho, who was now watching the conversation like a hawk, eyes narrowed, waiting for someone to broach the topic of singing or music. 

Kyuhyun looked from his father to the barber, then to Ryeowook who was clearly uncomfortable. His eyes widened as he realized what was going on. 

“Did-“ 

“Sorry,” boomed Mr. Cho, “I don’t think Kyuhyun will have the time for tutoring right now. He’s busy with school and skiing these days and we’re planning on starting him on some after-school programs like basketball or soccer this spring. Kyuhyun should really have a balanced lifestyle. Isn’t that right son?” 

“I guess so, appa. As long as I still get to play games and sing with my vocal instructor,” he responded defiantly, now annoyed about the restrictions that his father had placed on his best friend and his favourite barber. Ryeowook turned away and smirked.

Mr. Cho stared at his son, now annoyed. 

“I don’t-“ 

“Well,” Mr. Kim said loudly, interrupting the argument that he knew was going to happen, “You must be pretty busy, Kyuhyunnie, what with all your after-school activities and extracurriculars.” He gave Ryeowook a quick glare, stopping the boy from flashing little supportive hidden thumbs ups at Kyuhyun. 

“I’m always busy Mister. I don’t have enough time to play games. But no matter where I am, I can always si-“ 

“Ah, I can relate with you Kyuhyunnie,” Mr. Kim interrupted, putting a finger up to his mouth, shushing the boy. “I wish I had more time to play games but Ryeowook and my wife always kick me off the computer. It’s so easy to get caught up in games. Sometimes time passes so quickly, right Kyuhyun-ah? I’m sure it’s happened to you too.” 

“Yeah!” replied Kyuhyun, deciding to follow Mr. Kim’s direction and not continue inciting his father. “One day, umma and appa were in Greece and they left me with my noona and I woke up early in the morning and started playing games in my pajamas and then somehow it was dinner time. I don’t know how it happened.” 

“Oh? I never heard about that Kyuhyun-ah?” commented Mr. Cho. 

“Eep, it was supposed to be a secret. Noona’s going to kill me now,” the boy whispered to the Kims, who chuckled. 

“We haven’t met your noona yet, have we Kyuhyunnie?” asked Mr. Kim. 

“Noona’s in university overseas. She comes and visits during Christmas.” 

“Wow, your noona is studying overseas? She must be a very good student.” 

“Mm-hm, noona got a scho-lar-ship.” 

“Ehhh, really? Maybe when I grow up, I can be super smart and get a scholarship for mu-“ Ryeowook started then stopped, looking at his father expectedly. Kyuhyun frowned, unhappy, trying hard to hold himself back from saying something sarcastic to his father. 

“Well, that’s great for your sister, Kyuhyun-ah,” the barber said hastily. “Ryeowookie, are you going to apply the gel this time as well?” 

“Yes, appa!” 

“Great, go get ready. I’m going to finish drying Kyuhyunnie’s hair first.” He sighed, exhausted, as he the hairdryer, regretting his pact with the stern Mr. Cho. 

The second the barber stopped the hairdryer, Ryeowook, who had perched himself on his stepstool, buried his hands in Kyuhyun’s hair, styling it as per his vision. When he finished a stuck his hands up in the air, celebrating:

“Ta-dah! It looks amazing!” 

Kyuhyun studied himself in the mirror for several seconds. 

“Why do I feel like I’ve seen this haircut before?”

The barber nodded, agreeing with the boy. 

“Me too, I feel like- oh.” He turned to his son, eyes sharp. Ryeowook turned away, once again fidgeting and not making eye contact then ran off to wash his hands. 

“What? You figured it out Mister?” 

“No, no, it’s nothing Kyuhyun-ah.” The barber tried brushing it off, although he kept his sight on his mischievous son. “What do you think of it?” 

“It’s okay but I think it looks like a movie star haircut.” 

“Oh? You think so? Well, that’s good. Then you can pretend you’re a movie star at school,” Mr. Kim said airily, trying to not sound artificial. He pulled off the gown and walked the boy to his father. Ryeowook followed along behind them, giggling. 

“What do you think Mr. Cho?” 

The double meaning of the question was not lost on the man, who was aware that the barber was asking about more than just the quality of his son's haircut. 

“I think it’s good. Keep it up. This is how it should be from now on. I’m sure you’ll get used to it. I’ll take care of things on my end for next time.” He tipped his head towards his son. 

“No appa, I don’t want my hairstyle like this forever!” complained Kyuhyun, too young to understand the true nature of the conversation.

“Yeah, Kyuhyunnie. Maybe you’ll have an even better hairstyle in the future!” piped up Ryeowook then started giggling even harder, holding on to his father for support. 

Kyuhyun looked between the two Kims, self-consciously touching his hair as he put on his parka. As Mr. Kim escorted his father towards the door, he held back and fell in line with Ryeowook, immediately asking the older boy if something was wrong with his hair. 

“There’s nothing wrong with your hair, Kyuhyunnie. It’s just that,” Ryeowook paused, checking to see that Mr. Cho wasn’t paying attention. He continued on, dropping his voice to a whisper, “It’s just that you look like a professional singer today.” He smiled proudly at the other boy then raised his voice, pushing Kyuhyun out of the door. “Bye Kyuhyunnie! Bye Mr. Cho.”

But Kyuhyun forced his way back into the store, cheeks blotchy and red. 

“I’m sorry appa made everything so awkward,” he said quickly. “Appa wants me to be just like him but I don’t like that. I like music! And I like singing! I’ll tell umma about it so she can tell appa to stop, okay? Appa shouldn’t bother you like this.” He bowed in apology and ran off before his father could notice his absence. 

Once the door closed, Mr. Kim turned around to look at his son. 

“Poor Kyuhyun-ah. That father of his is really…” He trailed off. “Anyway, Ryeowook-ah, I don’t know whether to be disappointed at you or proud of your deviousness. That was the singer hairstyle you designed for Kyuhyun-ah’s birthday a couple years ago, isn’t it?” 

Ryeowook nodded and giggled then ran over to hug his father. 

“Well, I guess what Mr. Cho doesn’t know can’t hurt him,” he said to himself as he ruffled his son’s hair and yawned, already exhausted. “Still, I feel bad for Kyuhyunnie. His father really likes to control him, doesn’t he?”