"Sure, let me have a look?"

He pulls up some of the pictures. Here's an intricate ephemeral shaved design. Here's a fade with the hair on top styled in a way he hasn't realized is more complicated than just letting it do what it wants. Here's something slightly longer than his remaining hair. At least his general aesthetic preferences come across.

"Hm, I'm not that good at razor lines, but you can wait for Betta, or I can give it a try and just shave it down from there if I mess it up too awfully."

What's the normal thing to say to that? What's the normal thing to say to that?? He should have studied more, or differently, or. But there's nothing for it now, and if he gets kicked out for being trash he'll know to study before going somewhere else.

"How long a wait is it?"

"I think she'll be done in ten."

"That seems fine."

She gestures at a couple chairs in a corner by the window and resumes sweeping.

He can... sit on a chair. He can do that. This shouldn't be weird anymore, he's had his moment and now instead of feeling like the faces have turned into a vase it's time to feel miraculously clean and wonderful. Not that other people reported that, but.

It just feels like him. Sitting on a chair. He hopes that’s just because he’s still feeling off from the drugs, or because pollution is bullshit, or because reds just don’t react to reds anyway. There isn't any reason to think it's because it didn't work and he's still unclean and shouldn't be here. There isn't. He can't reread Nertel Istalni's paper in ten minutes and really he can barely read it at all, but he can skim it and remind himself that it is scientifically proven that he is fine under every single set of assumptions. It will be completely fine for Betta to touch him, unless, of course, he makes it weird.

He will not make it weird, except in his own head where he increasingly feels like nothing is real.

Betta finishes with her previous client, who was getting his curls straightened, and waves Valsin over.

He has been practicing for literal years and has no trouble walking across a room and sitting in a chair like a completely normal grey who is not, at all, having a very quiet breakdown about the possibility that the hairdresser is going to recoil in horror. Which is not how anything works anyway.

Does he need to pull up the pictures again?

Yup, she wants to look them over. "Okay, I'm going to do a blend of this and that one, you don't have enough to work with for me to pull off this fluffy top thing but I can approximate it..." And she puts a cape over him and gets underway.

It isn't weird. In the mirror he can see some grey getting their hair done by some purple, and that's a normal thing that happens all over Amenta every day. He tries to stop being aware of what he's touched, and who's touched what he's touched, and what Betta's touched after touching him and what those things have touched.

He really underestimated how long buzz cuts take and has no idea how people start conversations with hairdressers.

A basic fade would be much quicker but she's getting elaborate. "Floral or geometric?"

"Yes!" Wait that's the wrong type of answer. Are both answers safe? "...Geometric."

"Geometric it is." Buzz buzz buzz. She hums to herself, sort of harmonizing with the tone of the clippers.

It’s... completely fine. He looks like he has a nice haircut that someone could actually want on its own merits and not just because of not having enough hair for anything better. And nothing horrible is happening. And it's - good? He'll have to figure out how leaving reviews works and write a nice one. He thanks Betta warmly.

...It does feel like he’s left something behind that would have spoiled this experience.

"Come back soon! That kind of thing wants regular maintenance to look nice!"

He can pay with his pocket everything.

Fortunately the concept of paying for things isn't new. He does that.

...This is definitely a reasonable excuse for a selfie and won't even seem strange, right? He takes one on the way out to send to his sister later.

Nobody remarks at all on his decision to take a selfie.

He calls that good enough for one day and goes back to the hotel to curl up in a little ball under the blankets for a while. Sends the new haircut selfie to his sister and writes you'll love it here.

(She texts back figure out where the blues get their hair done. And he says, you realize yellows run half the government anyway, right.)

And everything else... happens. He moves into the new apartment and gets a headset even though the soundproofing is probably fine, and makes sure he has very reliable internet, and takes emergency calls. It's - not actually more important than his old job, which was absolutely essential to the functioning of society, but it's as important and feels less like a waste of his talents. He doesn't start donating immediately; it's still very possible something will go wrong. He saves.

The day of the police exam approaches.

It's a substantial train ride and it starts at eight in the morning, so he will need to be up pretty early.

He's very good at getting up early. (And much worse at staying up late.)

Then he can try to figure out the train! How is he doing at finessing subway routes?

He has memorized so many subway facts and can also just pull up a map on his everything and see how far he's gotten. And pay very close attention the whole time, which is maybe not the best prelude to needing to then focus on the exam, but.

Then he will be one of the first ones there. He can run through some of the physical tests which need to be individually proctored while they're waiting for the start time of the written.