Salon Story

 Marcia sighed as she flipped through the appointment book in the back office. The salon had been running like a well-oiled machine all day, but she still needed to make sure every detail was accounted for. Walk-ins were piling up, and she’d lost track of who was covering which client. That’s when she glanced at the clock and remembered something important: Kira Kosarin was here for her appointment.

Perfect. VIP clients keep this place buzzing.

Grabbing a clipboard, she stepped out of the office and scanned the room. She spotted Kira at one of the styling chairs, her hair already done in flawless, cascading waves that looked like they belonged in a shampoo commercial. Marcia stopped in her tracks. Wait a minute.

She glanced around the salon, looking for one of her stylists to give her a rundown. Her eyes landed on Lisa, one of her most experienced team members, who was busy applying color to a client’s hair. “Lisa,” she called, walking over, “who’s working with Kira today? I wanted to check in.”

Lisa paused, raising an eyebrow. “Oh, uh… Robert.”

Marcia frowned. “Robert? Who’s Robert?”

Lisa blinked. “You know… the guy in the black shirt? Tall, dark hair? I thought he was a new hire or a temp.”

Marcia’s stomach tightened. She didn’t hire anyone named Robert. And she certainly hadn’t brought in a temp without at least mentioning it to the team. “Lisa, we don’t have anyone named Robert on staff.”

The colorist froze mid-brush, her eyes narrowing. “Wait, what? Are you serious? He was working with Kira. He just walked in, grabbed an apron, and went to work. I thought you brought him in.”

Marcia’s heart started to race as she glanced back at Kira, who was admiring her reflection in the mirror. Her hair was immaculate—silky, voluminous waves framing her face perfectly. Whoever this guy was, he knew what he was doing.

“Where is he now?” Marcia asked, her voice sharper than she intended.

Lisa gave her an incredulous look. “He left. Walked right out the front door after finishing her hair.”

Marcia’s jaw dropped. “You’re telling me some random guy walked in, styled Kira Kosarin’s hair, and left? And nobody thought to ask who he was?”

Lisa raised her hands defensively. “I thought he was new! He looked confident, like he belonged here.”

Marcia pinched the bridge of her nose, a headache forming. “This is insane,” she muttered before striding toward Kira.

“Kira, I’m so sorry for the confusion,” she said, forcing a calm smile. “Can I ask—how was your experience?”

Kira looked up, a bit surprised. “Oh, it was great. Robert did an amazing job. He was super professional.”

Marcia plastered on a smile while her thoughts raced. “I’m so glad to hear that.” She glanced at Kira’s hair again, marveling at the craftsmanship. Whoever “Robert” was, he had skills that rivaled her best stylists. But that didn’t explain why he’d just vanished.

As she turned back toward the office to check the security footage, Marcia’s mind buzzed with questions. Who was this man? How did he know Kira would be here? And, most unsettling of all, why did he do it?

Back in her office, Marcia pulled up the camera feed, her pulse quickening as she watched the footage. There he was—walking in casually, grabbing an apron, and greeting Kira as if he’d been working there for years. No hesitation, no fumbling. He was a ghost, appearing out of nowhere and disappearing just as quickly.

“Well,” she muttered to herself, leaning back in her chair, “I’ve officially seen everything.”

The thought of someone sneaking into her salon to touch a celebrity’s hair would have been laughable if it weren’t so bizarre. But one thing was certain—this would be the strangest, most infamous story the salon had ever seen.