It was quiet inside the salon, save for the sound of the broom on the tile and my soft humming. 

                I checked my watch.  It was already dark outside and my parents would want me home soon.

                Setting the broom aside, I pulled a towel and spray from the cart and began wiping down the counters.

                My dream was to become a hair stylist, but because I was still young and my parents wanted me to go to college instead of beauty school, I had reduced myself to being a clean-up girl so I could at least be in a studio. 

                As I pulled back from the counter, I knocked a bottle of hair spray to the floor.  I scooped it up and caught sight of myself in the mirror.  Standing behind the chair with the hairspray in my hand almost made me look like a hairdresser. 

                “Ah, yes, this style looks wonderful on you,” I said to myself, pretending that there was a customer in the chair in front of me.  I made some motions in the air and realized I would look like an idiot if anyone walked in.

                “What are you doing?” a voice suddenly asked behind me.

                Startled, I screamed and whipped around, pressing down on the nozzle of the hairspray in defense. 

                Junhui coughed and waved the mist away.

                “Oh, it’s you,” I said, setting down the bottle.

                “Who were you expecting?” he asked, plopping into the chair.  “It’s not like anyone would try to jump you anyway,” he added with a grin.

                I narrowed my eyes.  “What’s that supposed to mean?”

                “Just hurry up,” he replied, ignoring my question and pulling out his cell phone. 

                I scowled at him and starting cleaning another counter.  On the days I was working, my parents sent Junhui to pick me up because they were scared something would happen to me at night.  I wasn’t sure that choosing a teenaged male to look after me was the best decision for my safety, but I guess they trusted him as a family friend. 

                I finished my work and put all the cleaning materials away.  When I looked over at Junhui, he was bent over and immersed in his mobile game.  His long bangs fell over his eyes and he kept trying to get them out of the way with a flick of his head. 

                I went to stand in front of him.  He looked up.

                “I think you should trim your bangs,” I said, examining him.

                “Don’t even think about it,” he warned, but I was already reaching for scissors.

                When I stepped closer to him, he leaned back and turned his neck away in resistance.

                “Junhui, please?” I pouted.  “I just want to know what it feels like to cut someone’s hair.”

                He hesitated before sitting properly in the seat.  “You better not make it ugly,” he grumbled. 

                I smiled and went to work. 

                He watched me.  “Do you really like this that much?”

                I nodded.  “It makes me happy.”

                “Then why are you working as a maid?”

                “Because this is as close as I’m going to get.”

                He stayed silent for a minute or two, thinking.  Then, “You should do what makes you happy.”

                “And you’re concerned about my wellbeing?” I asked sarcastically as I finished up the job and mussed his hair to get rid of any lingering snippets.

                He stood up and inspected himself in the mirror.  “Of course,” he replied, turning to me, “Why do you think I volunteered to take you home every day?”

                I stared at him.  He volunteered?

                “My parents didn’t send you?”

                “Why would they purposely send a teenager after you when your dad could’ve easily picked you up?”

                I let this sink in.  He’s concerned about my wellbeing and volunteered to look after me?

                “Wen Junhui, do you like me?” I teased.  I was only half-joking, testing for his response.

                He snorted and turned away.  “I’m going to wait outside.”

                I frowned, not getting the flustered reaction I’d hoped for.  “Hey, wait!” I said, going in front of him and blocking his way.  He raised an eyebrow and I held out a hand.

                “You should pay me for giving you such a fabulous trim.”

                Junhui glanced at my outstretched palm and then at me.  He mimed giving me money, placing his hand on top of mine.  Before I could open my mouth to protest, he suddenly grasped my fingers and leaned forward, pecking me on the lips. 

                “There.  Payment,” he said with a smirk as he released me.  “Good job on your first sale, Miss Hair Stylist.”