Yesterday was something I wouldn't forget.
First day in an idol group.
First time running from seniors.
First time watching someone get hurt…because I kept running.
The night was unbearable. I wasn't able to sleep well thinking of other ways I should have done to avoid Kyle being injured that much.
I was just getting started now I have a new what if's.
I woke up feeling tired. However our home is busy as always. Especially now, my mother had plans. So I have to step up.
"My friend asked me to help with house cleaning in Barangay San Anton. I won't be able to come home, so at lunchtime, cook some rice for you and your father. I already made adobo. It's in the cooler. Once you get hungry, just heat it up."
This was what she said before leaving. I haven't even had time to brush my teeth. She just swoosh out her way.
Well, It wasn't that hard to manage, so I added some minor cleaning around the house as I did what she asked. After about 20 minutes, everything was done.
My mind is still running fast while and after doing my chores. I wasn't even able to tell my mother about the meeting on Monday.
I Sighed
"I need to do something so I can move on. Hmmm" thinking for a few minutes then something comes up in my mind.
"Ow, I should start doing that then."
—---
After all of those that happened I forgot that I have plans for today. Uncle Benny is already with me. So, I have to start this mini source of income of mine to help my parents.
I excitedly set up my business outside of our house and opened the gate. Then put a chair and the big mirror we have at home, the one that has horses at the sides.
Then I put up a sign that said, "25 pesos per haircut."
I am excited, looking left and right, waiting for my first customer. Thinking about ways to be rich.
After a few hours, the one word that can explain what I feel.
disappointment.
no one came.
A few people passed by, but none of them seemed interested.
I couldn't think of a reason why. Most barbershops are located near the plaza. To get there, people have to ride a jeepney and a tricycle, so there shouldn't be much competition here.
I started to lose hope and prepared to pack up when I heard the door behind me open.
"Such a face early in the morning," my father teased.
He clearly knew my situation, but I still explained that people probably didn't trust me to cut their hair. After listening, he thought for a moment.
"Well, their reaction is normal. No one will entrust their hair to you just because you have scissors and a razor. Having a hammer doesn't make you a carpenter. Having a helmet doesn't make you a good driver," he explained.
I already knew that.
But my situation was different.
I clearly had the skills of a barber. it's just that my experience came from my past life, and no one knew that.
I couldn't exactly say that out loud. People would think I'd lost my mind.
I completely forgot about that part.
"You need to show results before people trust you. Let me think," my father added.
"Cut my hair first. Then we'll figure out how to advertise your business," he said with a smile.
I felt relieved.
At least someone believed in me.
He sat down while I prepared my tools and covered him so hair wouldn't stick to his clothes.
As I got ready, I noticed he was sweating a lot.
Now I felt even more careful.
He didn't fully trust me. but he still chose to support me.
"Let's start," I said, hyping myself up.
"What hairstyle do you want? Anything is fine. I'm quite skilled after all," I bragged, trying to ease his worries.
"Just don't make me bald. I'm fine with anything," he teased.
I studied his head shape and hair length, then decided.
"Let's go with a simple military cut."
His generation respected soldiers a lot. For them, a clean cut looked cool.
I started by combing his hair. It was tangled from sleep, so I sprayed some water to make it easier to handle.
After untangling it, I attached a short guard to the clipper.
Carefully, I started from the sides, moving upward.
"Careful! Careful!" my father warned.
Relax, I know what I'm doing.
"I got it," I replied.
After finishing the sides, I moved to the back.
Cutting hair is actually simple. just move the clippers against the direction of hair growth.
I focused completely.
"Sides and back done," I said.
"Make sure it's even. Don't make me look like a bitten apple," he replied.
"You can't back out now," I joked.
Then I worked on the top.
For a military cut, the top just needs to be slightly longer than the sides.
After that, I used a medium guard to blend the sides and top so there wouldn't be a harsh line.
Finally, I cleaned the neckline, ears, and sideburns.
"That's it!" I said, handing him a mirror.
He stared at his reflection, tilting his head side to side before standing up.
"Not bad," he said, clearly satisfied.
The cut was simple but clean.
I proved my skill and that made me happy.
After chatting for a bit, I raised my hand.
"25."
"What? You're charging me too?" he said, shocked.
"Yup. Business is business."
After he paid, I noticed some of his friends had been watching.
My father introduced me, saying I trained at school.
Since they had seen my work, he encouraged them to try.
At first, they hesitated.
Judging by my age and looks, I wasn't "gay enough" to do salon jobs.
That stereotype is really hard to break.
But after seeing my skills, they gave in.
One by one, I cut their hair.
Most of them chose the same simple military cut.
Each haircut took about twenty minutes.
It was a bit slow because I had to adjust the chair I was standing on to reach properly.
One of my customers was uncle John from TODA.
Before starting, I showed respect.
"Mano po."
"Your father must be proud of you," he said.
"While we were waiting, he kept bragging about how talented you are. My grandson also told me you joined a dance group. Keep it up."
Hearing that made me happy.
It gave me confidence in the path I chose. However, the staleness of what I am doing gives me time to think again.
"Hmm, Brier is something bothering you" uncle John asked with curiosity.
I hesitated for a while but uncle john is someone with a lot of experience so I just spilled everything up.
"You see-" I tell him the story of what happened.
Twenty minutes later, I finished. Both the haircut and my story.
"You did what you could," he said.
"Don't carry everything on your own. That's the problem with young people. You think you have to handle everything."
"You don't."
"Here," he said, handing me money.
It was 50 pesos.
"Thanks for the advice. Let me give you change," I replied.
"Keep it. Just cut my grandson's hair later. I'll send him here."
"Okay. Thank you," I said.
And just like that
I gained my first loyal customer.
Looking in front of my gate.
"Wow, I see cash"