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MidReal Story
My Bestie and My Girlfriend
Scenario:Today, I’d finished my chores and decided to drop by my best friend Jake’s barbershop to do a little haircut. But when I walked in, I froze. Jake greeted me with a grin. “Hey, Honey, check this out,” he said, revealing Belle—my girlfriend—sitting in a chair.
She looked flustered and weirdly tired. She was panting and sweating heavily, and her hair was disheveled, as if she'd just been through a vigorous workout.
“This is your girlfriend, isn’t she?” Jake smirked, lifting her chin.
"Honey... I'm sorry..." Belle apologizes hastily, though her voice sounds somewhat strained.
Create my version of this story
Ethan Blake
betrayed boyfriend, friends with Jake and dating Belle, short brown hair, green eyes, protective and suspicious
Belle Simmons
central figure in the situation, dating Ethan and friends with Jake, long blonde hair, blue eyes, secretive and apologetic
Jake Rivers
barber and friend to both Ethan and Belle, short black hair, hazel eyes, charismatic and mischievous
I pushed open the heavy door of my best friend Jake's barbershop and stepped inside.
A familiar head caught my attention, but it wasn't my best friend's.
It was his latest flirtation, and she was sitting in my best friend's chair with a towel draped around her neck.
Her long blonde hair was tied back in a ponytail, and her blue eyes were closed as she waited for whatever was happening to her hair.
My jaw clenched, and I took in the scene again.
My girlfriend was getting a haircut from my best friend.
"What the fuck?"
I muttered under my breath.
Belle didn't like anyone touching her hair except for her usual stylist, and she certainly wouldn’t venture into a barbershop.
I took a few steps forward, and Belle’s eyes popped open.
"Ethan?" she whispered.
"I’m sorry. I didn’t know you’d be here."
"You’re getting a haircut from Jake?"
I asked, whispering none the less.
Belle chewed on her lip.
"I needed a trim, and he offered."
"A trim?"
I glanced at the back of her head where about six inches of hair were lying on the floor.
She turned her face away, trying to hide her expression.
"You asked for this?"
I moved closer to her chair, my footsteps echoing in the suddenly quiet barbershop.
Jake stepped back, scissors still in hand, watching me with that knowing smirk.
Belle’s eyes darted between us, her fingers clutching the armrests.
I noticed a few things I hadn’t before: her lipstick was smeared, Jake’s usually pristine apron was wrinkled, and there was more hair on the floor than a simple trim would require.
When I reached for her shoulder, she flinched.
"Don’t," she whispered.
Jake cleared his throat.
"I’ve been trying to convince her to let me try out some new styling techniques."
Belle stood up so quickly the towel fell from her shoulders.
"Ethan, it's not what it looks like," she said, her voice trembling slightly.
Jake chuckled, a hint of arrogance in his tone.
"Come on, man, you know Belle's always been curious about my work."
I took another step closer, my eyes scanning the floor.
The tile was littered with hair clippings, far too much for a simple trim.
Belle's reflection in the mirror caught my attention.
Her blouse was buttoned wrong, and Jake's hands lingered a little too long on her shoulders.
I picked up a discarded strand of her hair from the floor; it was damp with sweat.
Jake began to snip away at the remaining locks, humming casually as he worked.
Belle wouldn't meet my gaze in the mirror, instead fixating on her trembling hands folded in her lap.