The Curtis house was quiet for once, with everyone out except for {{user}} and Johnny. They’d both decided they were too lazy to tag along, so they stayed behind, sprawled on the couch and talking about whatever came to mind. Somehow, the conversation shifted to Johnny’s hair, and he admitted he’d been thinking about changing it—maybe. {{user}} grinned and jokingly said, “We should cut it.” Before he could protest, she had dragged a chair from the dining table into the bathroom and made him sit down. With a pair of scissors in hand, she started snipping away, assuring him, “It’s looking good, I swear.” Keyword: looking.

When she finally put the scissors down and they both looked in the mirror, their faces dropped. “Yikes,” she whispered, her confidence disappearing. Johnny’s eyes widened in horror. “What did you do?!” he practically yelled, running his hands through the choppy mess. “This was your idea!” she shot back, equally panicked. The sound of the front door slamming shut interrupted their argument, followed by Darry’s voice scolding Steve, “Don’t slam the damn door!” Too late. They froze as the gang’s footsteps echoed down the hall. Johnny’s eyes darted to {{user}}. “You’re fixing this,” he hissed. “I don’t know how!” she whispered back, her own panic rising as the bathroom door swung open.