salon story

 The salon was its usual flurry of activity—blow dryers buzzing, scissors snipping, and a soft playlist humming through the speakers. Lisa, a stylist with years of experience and a sharp eye for detail, was halfway through a balayage on one of her regulars when she noticed him.

The guy in the black button-up. He wasn’t anyone she recognized, but he moved like he belonged there, confidently grabbing an apron from the wall hook and tying it around his neck. Lisa raised an eyebrow but quickly turned her attention back to her client. Must be a new hire, she thought. Marcia, the owner, often brought in temps or new trainees during busy times. It wasn’t uncommon for someone to show up with little fanfare.

Still, there was something about the way he carried himself that didn’t quite fit. Most new hires looked nervous, fumbling with tools or glancing around to see where everything was. This guy, though? He moved like he’d been doing this for years.

Lisa’s curiosity deepened when she saw him approach Kira Kosarin. Yeah, that Kira Kosarin. Lisa was used to high-profile clients dropping in, but she always made a mental note of who was handling them. Marcia was usually particular about assigning stylists to VIPs. Yet here was this supposed newbie stepping in without hesitation, introducing himself as Robert and leading Kira to the washing station.

“Bold move,” Lisa muttered under her breath as she applied more color to her client’s hair.

From her station, Lisa had a clear view of the washing area. She couldn’t help but watch as Robert began working on Kira’s hair. His technique was… surprisingly good. His hands moved with precision as he massaged shampoo into her scalp, his fingers threading through her dark, glossy waves with what could only be described as admiration. He lingered a little longer than Lisa would have, but Kira didn’t seem to mind.

“Guess the guy knows what he’s doing,” Lisa muttered, though a flicker of doubt lingered. Something about him still didn’t sit right.

As he moved Kira back to the styling chair, Lisa kept an eye on him, discreetly watching as he brushed and dried her hair. He was methodical, almost too meticulous, as if every stroke of the brush and pass of the blow dryer was an event in itself. He finished by shaping Kira’s hair into soft, cascading waves, the kind that could be on the cover of any fashion magazine.

By the time he was done, Lisa had to admit it: Kira’s hair looked stunning. The woman herself seemed thrilled, thanking Robert with an enthusiastic smile.

But then… he just left.

No cleanup, no conversation with the receptionist, no nod to any of the other stylists. He walked straight out the front door as if he’d finished a job interview and didn’t care about the results.

Lisa paused mid-snip, staring after him. “What the hell?”

Her client glanced up. “Everything okay?”

Lisa forced a smile. “Yeah, yeah, just… something weird.”

A few minutes later, Marcia emerged from the back, looking around. “Hey, Lisa, do you know who’s working with Kira today? I was going to check in.”

Lisa gestured toward Kira’s chair, where the actress was admiring her reflection. “Some guy named Robert. I figured he was new?”

Marcia frowned. “Robert? We didn’t hire anyone named Robert.”

Lisa’s stomach dropped. “Wait… what? Are you serious?”

Marcia shook her head, looking completely baffled. “No, I don’t know who that is.”

Lisa put down her scissors, her mind racing. “Well, whoever he was, he just walked out. Didn’t even stick around to clean up.”

Marcia’s eyes widened. “What? He’s gone?”

“Yeah,” Lisa said. “But here’s the thing—he was good. Like, really good. I mean, look at Kira’s hair.”

They both glanced over at Kira, who looked radiant as ever, running her fingers through her flawless waves. “Wow,” Marcia murmured. “He was good. But if he doesn’t work here…”

Lisa let out a sharp laugh, shaking her head. “Then I guess we just had a random guy walk in, style a celebrity’s hair, and disappear like some sort of hair fairy.”

Marcia groaned, rubbing her temples. “I need to check the security footage. This is insane.”

As Marcia hurried toward the office, Lisa turned back to her client, trying to focus on the task at hand. But her mind kept drifting back to Robert. Who was he? How did he know what he was doing? And why did he leave so abruptly?

“New hire,” she muttered to herself. “Yeah, right.”

It was one of the strangest things Lisa had ever witnessed in her years as a stylist, and she had a feeling it would become the salon’s most infamous story for years to come.