The weekend rolled around, and I finally decided it was time to get some clothes that actually fit. Pulling on a hoodie that had seen better days, I walked downstairs, brushing past my family as they lingered in the living room. I could feel their eyes on me, a mix of surprise and curiosity, but I kept my head down and went for the door.

After getting a few basic things from the store—some shirts, jeans, and a jacket that felt warm—I headed back home. I figured I’d slip up to the attic like usual, but as soon as I stepped inside, Mom was there, waiting in the hallway.

“Hey,” she started, a bit uncertain. Her voice was soft, careful, like she wasn’t sure what to say. “You, uh… you want your old room back?” She looked at me, a slight hopefulness in her eyes.

It felt strange, hearing her ask that. For a moment, I looked at her, trying to decide how I even felt about it. But the truth was, the attic was more home to me now than any room in the house. I nodded, not out of agreement, but just to acknowledge her words. “Thanks,” I said politely, keeping my voice calm, steady, like I was talking to someone I barely knew. “But I’m fine where I am.”

Her face fell a little, and I could see a flicker of sadness cross her features. She probably expected something different, but that wasn’t my problem anymore. Without saying more, I turned and made my way to the bathroom, ignoring the silence that followed.

Inside, I took a long look at myself in the mirror. I was starting to look less like the shadow I’d been for so long. My hair was a mess, though. I decided right then—time for a change.

Getting a haircut felt like a big step. But I knew I’d need an adult to come along; they wouldn’t just let a kid sit in the chair without someone there. After a moment of thought, I knew who I’d ask. Grabbing my things, I headed back out, making my way to the corner store. Bill was there, just like I hoped.

He looked up as I walked in, a look of mild surprise on his face. “Back again, huh?”

I nodded, feeling a bit awkward but trying to keep my voice steady. “Yeah. I… uh… need a haircut. But I need an adult to go with me.”

Bill raised an eyebrow, crossing his arms. “And why do you think I’d be the one to do that?”

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I thought fast, realizing I’d have to try something a little different. Putting on the best fake puppy eyes I could muster, I tried to look as helpless as possible, hoping he’d buy it. “Please, Bill? You said I needed to make changes.”

He looked at me, his mouth tightening a little like he was trying not to laugh. After a moment, he sighed, shaking his head. “Alright, alright. Let’s get you that haircut. But cut out the puppy eyes—it’s weird.”

Together, we walked to the barbershop. As soon as we stepped in, the smell of aftershave and fresh-cut hair hit me, and I felt a little nervous. The barber looked at me, then at Bill, as if silently asking if he was my dad.

Bill just shrugged and took a seat, nodding at me to go ahead. I sat in the chair, feeling the slight weight of the barber’s hands as he adjusted the chair’s height. “What can we do for you, kid?” the barber asked, his voice deep but friendly.

“Something… modern, I guess?” I said, not really sure. I wasn’t good at talking to people, but the barber seemed to understand. He nodded, combing through my hair, and got to work.

Minutes passed, and the snipping of scissors and buzz of the clippers filled the air. I watched in the mirror as my reflection started to change, layer by layer. My hair, which had once been a shaggy mess, now looked sharp, clean—crisp. I almost didn’t recognize myself.

Finally, the barber stepped back, smiling proudly. “Take a look,” he said, gesturing at the mirror.

I stared at the reflection, amazed. The guy staring back at me looked different—stronger, more confident, like he’d finally woken up. A small smile crept onto my face, and I nodded. “It’s amazing, sir. Thank you.”

I paid the barber, digging into the cash I had on me. Bill raised an eyebrow as I handed over the money, clearly wondering where I’d gotten it all from.

“Where’d you get all this?” he asked as we stepped outside. “I know you don’t talk to your mom much.”

I hesitated, then shrugged. “Dad’s been sending money from overseas. He wanted me to be okay on my own.” I paused, realizing that I hadn’t told anyone this—not even Mom. I glanced at Bill, and something about the way he listened made me feel like I could keep going. “It’s… complicated. But he didn’t want me to go through everything alone. So he made sure I had enough to get by.”

Bill nodded slowly, processing what I’d told him. He didn’t push for more, just gave me a look that held both understanding and something like pride. “Sounds like your dad cares a lot about you, kid. And it sounds like you’re finally doing something with it.”

I felt a small warmth in my chest. Bill didn’t pity me; he just understood. I gave him a small wave as I turned to head home. As I walked, I glanced back once to see him waving back, a smile on his face. I took my time going home, enjoying the way the sunlight seemed to glow just a little warmer, the breeze a little softer. For once, it felt like everything was exactly how it was supposed to be.