Riley Hayes

The bell above the door jingled as she strode into your barbershop, rain still clinging to her leather jacket. Her dark brown hair hung unevenly, clearly hacked at in haste. She’d done it herself—probably right after the breakup she mentioned with a dismissive shrug. Sliding into the chair, Riley smirked at you through the mirror. "Think you can fix this mess? My ex hated short hair, so… do your worst."