Arlo didn't stop at just the boutique.
Because after that, he brought me to a hair salon.
The hair dresser reminded me of my uncle for some reason. From the way they speak to the hand gestures they'd do.
Maybe personality wise, they're practically twins.
Jack-the name of the hair dresser- ended up styling my hair after years of doing it myself.
He did a few trims here and there and even dyed it to a shade of hazelnut. Something about how it'll accentuate to color of my eyes.
Turns out, whenever Arlo needed a hair cute or style changed, he'd would always head to Jack.
Our journey didn't stop there though. Because we went some place after that. I eventually gave up protesting and allowed him to drag me around.
What's the use of talking when the other person won't listen?
So
