Working In A Beauty Salon - Part 3

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The next morning, Hugo woke up feeling strangely nervous yet excited. Today was his first full day working at Lush & Luxe, and after everything Kate and Bella had said, he felt a new sense of responsibility—to look the part.

He stood in front of his small bedroom mirror, eyeing his new clothes. He picked a simple but well-fitted button-up and paired it with his new jeans. For the first time in a while, he didn’t feel like he was dressed for a job he hated.

Then, his eyes flicked up to his hair.

He hesitated. Should he leave it down?

His fingers hovered over his hair tie. Bella and Kate had been so insistent that he embrace his natural look. But would it be too much?

The salon was already buzzing when Hugo arrived. The scent of shampoo, perfume, and fresh coffee filled the air as hairdryers whirred and stylists chattered with clients.

As he stepped inside, Kate spotted him first.

“Oooh, look at you!” she whistled, nudging a nearby stylist. “Doesn’t he clean up nice?”

Hugo felt his face warm as several heads turned to assess him.

“Wow, Hugo!” one of the stylists, Mia, chimed in. “You should dress like this every day.”

Lila appeared from behind the reception desk, her sharp eyes scanning him from head to toe. She smirked.

“Much better,” she said approvingly. “I knew you had potential.”

Hugo cleared his throat. “Uh, thanks. Just figured I should… fit in more.”

Before Hugo could dwell too much on her words, Lila clapped her hands. “Alright, you’re officially part of the team now. Let’s get you started.”

She led him to the breakroom, where a small toolbox and maintenance checklist were waiting.

“You’ll handle basic repairs, supply restocks, and any odd jobs that come up,” she explained. “But don’t be surprised if we pull you in for other things. Salons can get… chaotic.”

Kate poked her head in. “Like being a hair model!”

Hugo groaned. “I just got here. Can I at least fix something before you all start using me as a mannequin?”

Lila laughed. “Fair enough. But don’t get too comfortable—I might have some ideas for you later.”

The first few weeks at Lush & Luxe passed in a blur. Hugo settled into his role as the handyman-slash-everything-else guy, fixing broken dryers, adjusting salon chairs, and restocking supplies. But as much as he enjoyed the job, something else was changing—his appearance.

Kate and Bella were relentless.

At first, it was subtle changes.

A better fit in his shirts. A few accessories—a bracelet here, a sleeker pair of shoes there. Then came the hair treatments.

“Your hair is too nice not to take care of properly,” Mia had insisted one afternoon before dragging him to an empty chair.

Before Hugo knew it, he was getting deep conditioning treatments and styling tips from the best in the business.

Then came the nails.

It started with clear polish, just for “protection.” Then a light buff for “shine.”

Kate smirked as she inspected his hands one day. “Honestly, your fingers are way too nice for a guy who fixes things all day.”

One day, as Hugo leaned against the reception counter, scrolling through his phone during a quiet moment, Lila approached.

“You’ve been here a few weeks now,” she noted, tilting her head. “I have to say, you’re fitting in better than I expected.”

Hugo smirked. “That supposed to be a compliment?”

Lila’s gaze flickered over his styled hair, well-fitted shirt, and subtly manicured nails. She smiled knowingly.

“I’d say so,” she teased. “You don’t even look out of place anymore.”

Hugo opened his mouth to protest, but then he caught his reflection in the mirrored wall behind her.

He swallowed.

The old Hugo—the one in baggy clothes, the one with scruffy hair, the one who slouched through life—was gone.

Hugo had never thought much about style before working at Lush & Luxe. Clothes were just something to throw on, hair was just something to keep out of his face, and nails? Well, he never even considered those.

But now?

He stood in front of his small bedroom mirror one morning, running his fingers through his smooth, perfectly conditioned hair. His button-up shirt hugged his frame just right, his jeans no longer looked worn and baggy, and his nails had a soft sheen from the buffing Kate had done last night.

A few weeks ago, he might have felt weird. But now?

It just felt… normal.

"Hugo, can you hand me the pink dye?" Mia asked one afternoon.

Hugo reached for it automatically before stopping. "Wait, why do you need me to—"

Mia grinned. "Just seeing if you’d hesitate."

Kate laughed from across the room. "Come on, Hugo, at this rate, you’ll be helping us mix highlights by next week!"

Hugo rolled his eyes but didn’t argue.

Because, honestly?

They weren’t wrong.

He had already tested some of the products for them—moisturizers, face masks, even a little tinted lip balm once when Lila insisted he had the perfect lips for a natural look.

Later that evening, after closing, Lila called Hugo into her office.

"You’ve been doing well here," she said, leaning against her desk, arms crossed.

Hugo smiled. "Thanks, I—"

"But," Lila interrupted, eyes flicking over him, "I can’t help but notice something. You’re changing."

Hugo blinked. "Is that… bad?"

Lila smirked. "No. I actually think it suits you."

His stomach did a little flip.

Before he could respond, she stepped closer and, without asking, reached up and tucked a loose strand of his hair behind his ear.

"You should wear it down more," she murmured. "It’s… beautiful."

Hugo’s throat went dry.

Was she teasing? Was she flirting?

He didn’t know.

By now, Hugo had settled into his job at Lush & Luxe, and with that came a new social circle.

The salon staff had fully embraced him, and he had formed close bonds with Kate, Mia, and Lila, but there was one other person who stood out—Max.

Max was the only other guy working at the salon, but unlike Hugo, he wasn’t just the maintenance guy. He was a hairstylist—and a damn good one.

One afternoon, as Hugo was fixing a faulty shampoo station, Max walked over and leaned against the counter, watching him work.

“So, you’re the famous Hugo, huh?” Max said, smirking.

Hugo looked up, wiping his hands on a towel. “Famous?”

Max chuckled. “Dude, you’re all anyone talks about. ‘Oh, Hugo looks so cute today!’ ‘Did you see how nice Hugo’s hair is?’”

Hugo groaned. “Great. I’m a salon mascot.”

Max grinned. “You kinda are.”

Hugo sighed. “And I’m guessing you’re here to make fun of me too?”

Max shook his head. “Nah, man. Actually, I respect it. Takes guts to roll with it the way you do.”

That surprised Hugo. “Wait… really?”

Max shrugged. “Yeah. I mean, most guys would’ve quit the second someone suggested putting tinted lip balm on them.”

Hugo scratched the back of his neck. “Yeah, well… I guess I’ve just gotten used to it.”

Over the next few days, Hugo found himself spending more time around Max.

Unlike the girls, Max didn’t tease Hugo too much about his evolving style. Instead, he gave actual advice.

“Okay, listen,” Max said one morning, pulling Hugo into an empty styling chair. “If you’re gonna rock the long hair look, you gotta do it right.”

Hugo raised an eyebrow. “And what’s ‘right’?”

Max grabbed a styling brush and worked through Hugo’s hair. “A little volume, a little texture… You want that effortless ‘I woke up looking amazing’ vibe.”

Hugo snorted. “I usually wake up looking like a mess.”

Max smirked. “Exactly. That’s why I’m here.”

As the weeks passed, Hugo realized something important.

Having Max around made things easier.

Sure, Kate and Bella loved pushing him into new things, but Max? He made it feel normal.

“Dude, style isn’t about being ‘masculine’ or ‘feminine,’” Max told him one day. “It’s about looking good and feeling confident. And trust me, you look good.”

It was a slow afternoon at Lush & Luxe. With only a few clients in the chairs and most of the staff lounging around, the salon had a rare moment of calm.

Max twirled a pair of scissors between his fingers and sighed. “Man, I’ve been dying to practice a bangs style, but no one’s willing to risk their hair for it.”

The other stylists chuckled, shaking their heads.

“Yeah, no way,” Kate smirked. “I love you, Max, but I’m not letting you experiment on me.”

Mia chimed in. “Same. My hair’s finally at the length I want.”

Max groaned. “Come on, someone’s gotta help me out here.”

Hugo, who had been organizing supplies nearby, hesitated.

Bangs? That was a big change.

But then he glanced around the room—no one else was stepping up.

“Alright,” he said before he could talk himself out of it. “I’ll do it.”

The room went silent.

Kate’s eyes widened. “Wait, seriously?”

Max’s lips curled into a grin. “Dude, are you sure? Bangs are kind of a commitment.”

Hugo took a deep breath, feeling a mix of nerves and excitement bubbling in his stomach. “Yeah. Why not?”

Max clapped him on the back. “Hell yeah, man! Alright, take a seat.”

Hugo sat in the styling chair, gripping the armrests as Max draped a cutting cape over him.

“Alright,” Max said, running a comb through Hugo’s soft, wavy locks. “I think you’d suit some wispy curtain bangs—subtle, but super stylish.”

Hugo swallowed. “Just don’t make me look… you know… too different.”

Max chuckled. “Relax. You’ll look amazing.”

The snip of the scissors filled the air as strands of Hugo’s long front pieces fell onto the cape.

Mia and Kate watched intently.

“I can’t believe he’s actually doing this,” Kate whispered.

“Right?” Mia grinned. “And the crazy part? I bet it’s gonna look so good.”

After a few more precise cuts and some careful styling with a round brush and blow dryer, Max stepped back.

“Alright, moment of truth.”

He spun Hugo’s chair toward the large mirror in front of them.

Hugo’s breath caught in his throat.

His long waves now framed his face differently, with soft, feathered bangs that lightly brushed against his forehead. They gave him a delicate, effortlessly stylish look—but there was no denying that it also looked very… feminine.

He flushed instantly.

Kate gasped dramatically. “Oh. My. God.”

Mia’s jaw dropped. “Hugo… you look adorable.”

Lila, who had just walked into the room, stopped in her tracks. Her eyes flickered over Hugo’s new look, and a slow, knowing smile spread across her face.

“Wow,” she murmured. “That suits you way too well.”

Hugo’s face turned redder than ever.

“I-I don’t know…” he mumbled, reaching up to touch his freshly cut bangs.

Max laughed, clapping a hand on Hugo’s shoulder. “Dude, you’re literally blushing. You love it, don’t you?”

Hugo bit his lip, feeling overwhelmed. He wasn’t sure what he felt, but one thing was certain…

This was the biggest change yet.

After the haircut, Max ran his fingers through Hugo’s freshly styled wispy bangs, making sure everything was even.

“Damn,” Max muttered under his breath. He looked good.

No—he looked beautiful.

Max swallowed hard and quickly stepped back. “Alright, man. You’re all set.”

Hugo was still staring at himself in the mirror, touching his bangs shyly, as if he couldn’t believe the reflection looking back at him.

“Thanks, Max,” he murmured. “I… I actually kinda like it.”

Max’s chest tightened at that.

Why did this feel so different?

He had styled hundreds of clients, had made plenty of people look good, but with Hugo… it felt personal.

He forced a smirk to cover up whatever strange emotions were bubbling up inside him. “Told you. You’re rocking the look.”

The girls were still gushing over Hugo, giggling as they teased him about how cute he looked.

And Max?

Max couldn’t stop looking at him.

Max had always been careful.

He was gay, but he had never told anyone—not his coworkers, not his friends, not his family.

It wasn’t that he was ashamed. He just didn’t want to deal with the questions, the assumptions, the way people’s perceptions of him would shift if they knew.

So, he kept it to himself. He dated in secret, kept things casual, and never got too attached.

But standing there, watching Hugo blush over his new look, something in Max’s chest ached.

It was a dangerous feeling.

As the day went on, Max found himself noticing things about Hugo he hadn’t paid attention to before.

The way he tucked his hair behind his ear when he was nervous. The way he smiled softly when someone complimented him. The way his delicate features made his reflection almost ethereal.

Max had always found him attractive—even before all the subtle styling changes.

Later that evening, as the salon was closing, Hugo and Max ended up in the back storage room together, putting away supplies.

It was quiet. Just the two of them.

Max’s heart pounded.

Hugo sighed, running a hand through his bangs. “I still can’t believe I let you cut these.”

Max chuckled. “Regretting it?”

Hugo shook his head. “No… it’s just… I don’t know. I feel different.”

Max leaned against the counter, crossing his arms. “Good different?”

Hugo hesitated, then nodded. “Yeah. Good different.”

Something about the way he said it made Max’s stomach twist.

For a split second, he wanted to say something.

To tell Hugo how beautiful he looked. To tell him how much he liked being around him.

But he bit his tongue.

Because Max knew better than to let himself fall for someone he couldn’t have.

By the time Max and Hugo finally left the salon, the city streets had grown dark, illuminated by the warm glow of streetlights. The rest of the staff had gone home, but they had stayed behind to finish up a few last-minute cleaning tasks.

“Man, I’m exhausted,” Hugo sighed as they stood outside the salon, waiting for a taxi.

Max smirked. “Yeah, well, that’s what you get for being the salon’s new experiment dummy.”

Hugo groaned. “Don’t remind me.” He brushed his bangs away from his face, still getting used to them.

When their taxi finally pulled up, they slid into the back seat, Hugo first, Max after him.

The driver glanced at them through the rearview mirror, smiling.

“So, where to, lovebirds?”

Max froze.

Hugo’s eyes widened. “Uh—w-we’re not—”

The driver chuckled. “Ah, my mistake! Just looked like a cute couple, that’s all.”

Hugo quickly corrected him. “No, no, we’re just friends.”

But Max barely heard him.

Because something about those words—looked like a cute couple—sent a strange, unexpected warmth through his chest.

Max knew it was stupid.

It was just a mistake. A simple assumption. Nothing to think twice about.

But he was thinking about it.

As the taxi rolled through the quiet streets, Max found himself stealing glances at Hugo, who was staring out the window, probably embarrassed by the misunderstanding.

His delicate bangs framed his face perfectly, softening his already gentle features. The city lights cast a glow over his skin, highlighting the subtle changes he had gone through since starting at the salon.

And suddenly, Max realized—Hugo didn’t even look out of place anymore.

He belonged in their world now. He belonged with them.

Max swallowed hard and turned his gaze away, heart pounding.

What the hell was he feeling?

On the other hand, Hugo felt flustered.

He had never thought about how he and Max looked together—not until the taxi driver’s words forced the idea into his head.

It was strange.

Uncomfortable? No. But… different.

He glanced at Max from the corner of his eye. The guy looked lost in thought, unusually quiet.

“Hey,” Hugo said, nudging him lightly. “You okay?”

Max blinked and quickly snapped back. “Huh? Yeah. Yeah, I’m fine.”

Hugo frowned. “You sure? You got weirdly quiet after the driver said… y’know.”

Max forced a laugh. “Oh, please. Like I care what some random dude thinks.”

The taxi ride continued in awkward silence. Hugo shifted in his seat, still thinking about what had just happened. It was nothing, right? Just a simple misunderstanding.

But for some reason, it still made him feel off-balance.

Max, meanwhile, sat with his arms crossed, his jaw tight. His heart had finally stopped racing, but his mind kept replaying the moment.

Why did those words hit so hard?

Looked like a cute couple.

He had always prided himself on keeping his emotions in check, never getting too close to anyone. But now, sitting next to Hugo—his quiet, thoughtful, unknowingly beautiful coworker—Max felt a strange pull that he couldn’t ignore.

His stomach twisted, and he forced himself to stare out the window, watching the city lights blur past.

“Almost there,” the driver muttered.

Hugo let out a relieved sigh. “Good. Today felt so long.”

Max chuckled, though it sounded a little forced. “Yeah, tell me about it.”

When they finally arrived, Hugo and Max stepped out of the taxi. The cool night air felt refreshing against Hugo’s flushed skin.

“Well,” Hugo said, stretching his arms, “thanks for the ride.”

Max nodded. “No problem.”

For a moment, they just stood there, lingering outside the apartment complex.

Something felt different, but neither of them acknowledged it.

Hugo ran a hand through his bangs. “So… uh, see you tomorrow?”

Max hesitated—just for a second. Then, he smirked, slipping back into his usual self. “Yeah, see you tomorrow, bangs-boy.”

Hugo groaned. “Oh God, is that my new nickname now?”

Max chuckled. “Maybe.”

With a playful shove to Max’s shoulder, Hugo turned and walked toward his building.

Max watched him go, his smirk slowly fading as the playful moment passed.

Back at home, Hugo sat on his bed, towel-drying his hair after a quick shower. The whole day had been exhausting, but his mind wouldn’t settle.

He kept replaying the moment in the taxi—

"So, where to, lovebirds?"

The driver’s words weren’t meant to be serious, but… why had they stuck with him?

He had never thought about how he and Max looked together. Sure, they had become closer over the past few weeks, but they were just friends, right?

Hugo sighed, tossing the towel aside. He needed to clear his head.

Without thinking too much, he picked up his phone and called Max.

Max was lying on his couch, flipping through TV channels, when his phone buzzed.

Hugo.

A weird mix of nerves and excitement hit him as he answered.

“Yo, what’s up?”

“Hey,” Hugo said, sounding hesitant. “Uh… just finished dinner. Thought I’d check in.”

Max smirked. “Oh? You calling to tell me how much you love your bangs now?”

Hugo groaned. “Okay, first of all—no. And second, you’re never gonna let that go, are you?”

“Not a chance.”

Hugo laughed softly, but then there was a pause.

“…Actually, I wanted to ask you something.”

Max sat up, suddenly feeling more alert. “Yeah?”

There was a long silence before Hugo finally spoke again.

“The taxi driver,” he said carefully. “Why do you think he… y’know, thought we were a couple?”

Max’s breath caught in his throat.

Shit.

He hadn’t expected this question.

“Uh…” Max cleared his throat. “I mean, I dunno. We were just sitting next to each other, I guess?”

Hugo hummed. “Yeah, but… it made me wonder. Do we really look that close?”

Max hesitated, gripping his phone tighter. “Why? Is it… bothering you?”

“No, not really,” Hugo admitted. “It just… caught me off guard.”

Max let out a quiet breath.

So, Hugo wasn’t upset. That was good.

But why did Max feel so damn tense right now?

“Well,” Max said, forcing a teasing tone, “maybe it’s because you’re getting too pretty these days.”

Hugo choked. “Wh—Excuse me?”

Max laughed. “I’m just saying, dude. The new look, the bangs… you’re getting compliments left and right at the salon. Maybe the driver thought you were my cute girlfriend or something.”

Hugo groaned dramatically. “I hate you.”

After hanging up the call, Max tossed his phone onto the couch and rubbed his face.

"What the hell is wrong with me?"

He had always been careful with his emotions, never letting himself get too attached. But lately, Hugo had been messing with his head in ways he couldn’t explain.

Max had known Hugo since he started at the salon. Back then, Hugo was just some shy, awkward guy who didn’t even know how to stand in a room full of confident, stylish people.

But now?

Now, Hugo fit in too well.

His long hair, the way he styled it. His soft, careful mannerisms. The way he spoke—gentle, considerate, never loud.

Even the way he reacted to things was changing.

Like earlier, when he blushed over the taxi driver’s mistake instead of just shrugging it off.

Or how he had let Max cut his bangs without a fight—a style that was undeniably feminine.

Max leaned back against the couch, staring at the ceiling.

"Damn. He’s acting like a girl now."

The thought should have been casual. Just an observation.

But it wasn’t.

Because the more Max thought about it, the more he realized that he didn’t mind it.

In fact… he kind of liked it.

And that?

That was a problem.