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Question: Write a story about a teenage girl who visits a hairdresser for a trim. She is wearing one of her brother's shirts, a band shirt that they both have, not realising that the larger shirt gives her a tomboyish look. At the hairdresser, they misheard her name and usher her to a chair, assuming that she's a young man. The girl is reading a motorcycle magazine, further confusing things, so she doesn't notice that her long hair is being trimmed short, the back and sides shaved clean, the top being styled in a shaggy style that's popular. It's only when the chair is tilted back and shaving cream is spread on her face, that she realises that there's been a mistake. After the razor has finished cleaning her jaw, she is stunned to see her reflection. She looks astonishingly like her older brother when he had shorter hair. When she arrives home, her mother calls her by her brother's name, telling him that he looks great with shorter hair. She heads upstairs to her brother's room, where she finds him wearing a towel, having just had a shower, brushing out his hair. When he sees her, he starts chuckling, telling her that she looks just like him. She replies that because their mum thinks that she is him, she might need him to dress as her until she can grow her hair out. He chuckles, but follows her to her room, ready to become the little sister for a few months. She starts by handing him a bra and a pair of panties for his to put on.
Sadie glanced at her watch, dashing out the front door in a faded Sonic Youth t-shirt—one of her brother's, baggy and soft from years of washing. The smell of rain hung in the air as she slung her backpack over her shoulder, barely noticing the mirror’s reflection as she passed: long, brown hair pulled into a scruffy ponytail, the oversized shirt swamping her slim frame. "I’ll just get a trim," she muttered to herself, quickening her step to the corner hair salon where she’d booked her usual. Inside, a rush of warm air greeted her. She checked in with the receptionist, enunciating her name—"Sadie." A stylist behind the counter jotted it down but, distracted by the hum of hairdryers, heard only “Seb.” "Seb, you’re up!" someone called. Sadie, nose in a motorcycle magazine swiped from the waiting area, looked up just in time to be ushered to a chair. "Any special style today?" the stylist, Tina, asked, glancing at the chart and the supposedly ‘young man’ before her. Sadie barely looked up. "Just shorter, please,” she mumbled, already absorbed in a review of a Kawasaki. Tina’s hands were deft, professional. Clippers hummed at her nape, sending vibrations through her scalp. “We’ll do the sides nice and clean. You’re gonna look sharp!” Tina joked. Sadie grinned vaguely, lost in a world of chrome and leather, oblivious as long brown strands rained to the floor. Tina’s touch was quick, shaping the top into a shaggy style she’d done for boys a dozen times that week. Then, a backward tilt, the cool slide of shaving cream. Something icy slithered down Sadie's spine. Her eyes shot open just as the blade scraped her jawline. "Wait—!" she tried, but it was too late. The razor swooped in, cleaning everything below her cheekbones. When the chair spun round, Sadie’s heart stopped. The person in the mirror—sharp jaw, faux-hawked top, neat shaved sides—could’ve been her older brother Finn, minus a few centimeters of height. She touched her face in disbelief, eyes flicking to the pile of hair on the floor, then back to the stylist. Tina’s beam faltered. "Oh, wow, Seb, you look just like your ID—wait…" Sadie couldn’t answer. She stumbled out, barely registering the apologetic flurry behind her, clutching her bag and magazine. At home, Sadie crept in. Her mother, glancing up from a teacup, beamed. "Finn! That haircut suits you. You always looked best with it short. Bathroom’s free if you need it." Sadie stared, defeated, before her mouth twisted into a mischievous smile. She tiptoed upstairs, finding Finn in a towel, combing his wild mane by the window. He spotted her in the mirror—and burst out laughing. “Wow. When did I clone myself?” Sadie flopped on his bed, scowling and sheepish. “Mum thinks I’m you. I might need you to be ‘Sadie’ till my hair grows out. Fair’s fair.” Finn grinned, toweling off. “Easy. I always wanted to see how you get your eyeliner that straight.” She rummaged in her drawer, producing a plain bra and a pair of pink-striped panties. Finn blinked, then met her grin with one of his own. "All right, little sister," he said, heroic. "But only if I get to borrow your Sonic Youth shirt when this is over.” Sadie passed him the clothes. "Deal. Now let’s see if you can walk in ballet flats." As Finn wriggled into his new role, Sadie watched, certain this twist in her life would be a story retold—between siblings, always with laughter. And maybe next time, she’d double-check that everyone knew her name.
Once upon a time, in a small town named Clearview, lived a teenage girl named Jamie. She was a spirited 16-year-old with long, wavy hair and a penchant for her brother's clothes. One sunny Saturday, she decided it was time to get a trim and headed to the local hair salon, donning one of her older brother's oversized band shirts. Unbeknownst to Jamie, the shirt gave her a tomboyish look, and her comfortable jeans and sneakers only furthered the illusion. As she walked into the hair salon, she was greeted by a bustling atmosphere of snipping scissors and humming hair dryers. The receptionist at the front desk looked up and smiled, though somewhat puzzled by Jamie's appearance. Mishearing her name, the receptionist led Jamie over to a chair and called out, "James is here for his appointment!" Jamie, engrossed in a motorcycle magazine she found at the front desk, paid little attention to the mistake. She clambered onto the chair, flipping through the pages, admiring the gleaming bikes and leather jackets. The hairstylist, an enthusiastic young man named Leo, approached with a comb and scissors in hand. "All set for a new look, eh?" Leo asked, sounding cheerful. Jamie nodded absentmindedly, her eyes still glued to the magazine. Leo began trimming her hair with precision and skill, not realizing Jamie's gender. Snip by snip, her long locks began to fall to the floor. As the minutes ticked by, Leo switched clippers for a sharper, cleaner cut. Jamie didn't notice, too absorbed in the mechanical marvels of the motorcycles to watch the transformation. By the time the back and sides of her head were shaved clean, the top styled in a trendy, shaggy fashion, Jamie was blissfully unaware. It was only when Leo tilted the chair back and liberally applied shaving cream to her face that Jamie snapped out of her reverie. Her eyes widened as she watched the razor glide along her jaw, leaving behind smooth skin. A gasp escaped her lips, but it was too late to stop the process. When Leo finally spun the chair around to reveal her reflection, Jamie's mouth dropped open in shock. Staring back at her was not the girl she had been a mere hour ago, but a strikingly close image of her older brother, Alex, when he had sported a shorter haircut. "Well, how do you like it?" Leo beamed, clearly proud of his work. Jamie was speechless. She handed over the cash in a daze, barely registering the congratulatory pat on the back Leo gave her. Upon arriving home, she stumbled through the front door, where her mother was watering plants in the living room. "Alex, you look fantastic with that shorter hair!" her mother exclaimed. Jamie's face flushed with both embarrassment and a strange sense of amusement. "Mum, it's me, Jamie," she started to explain, but her mother had already turned back to her plants. Jamie decided it was best to head upstairs to her brother's room, feeling slightly panicked but oddly amused. She found Alex just stepping out of the shower, his damp hair slicked back, towel wrapped around his waist. When Alex saw her, he burst into laughter. "Whoa, Jamie! You look just like me when I had short hair." Jamie sighed, a mirthful surrender in her eyes. "Mum thinks I'm you, so I might need your help. Looks like you'll need to become the little sister for a while, at least until I grow this out." Alex raised an eyebrow, still chuckling as he followed her to her room. Jamie dug through her drawers and handed him a bra and pair of panties. Alex smirked but took them without protest. "Alright, sis, let's switch places. This could be the most interesting few months of our lives," Alex quipped. As Alex struggled into the bra, Jamie couldn't help but laugh. Despite the situation, she knew they would make it work—and probably have some fun along the way. United in their sibling bond, they started down the unexpected path of swapping identities, prepared to face whatever humorous or awkward situations awaited them.
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