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Chapter 72: 'Why, Rose?'

WARNING: This chapter contains crude language which you may find distressing.

ROSE

“Oh… that singer… What’s his name again?”

I was drilling a hole through the tray of hair styling tools with my eyes, my body unable to move. Rum’s face is everywhere in my mind, crowding, squeezing, spilling.

“Hmm… Gin? Doesn’t sound right….”

“Hey! What are you waiting for?”

My gaze jerked up at the mirror and the customer was glaring at me, silently chastising me for wasting his precious time.

“Hurry up!” he snapped impatiently.

“Right!” I heard my voice squeal in panic and sprang into action, my hand shot out to the hair clipper.

“Whiskey?” Mrs. Yves continued.

The second the clipper came into plain sight, the bossy voice freaked out. “What do you think you’re doing? Don’t you wanna wash my hair first? Are you really from B.A.D?”

I stared at him.

The man was getting on my nerves—I should tell him to shut up, let me do my job. But my voice is stuck. I feel stuck. I turned on the cl
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