jensoo one shots

cut to the chase

The salon is smaller, more unassuming than Jisoo was expecting for its supposed ultra exclusivity. There's a small reception podium at the entrance, two battered leather couches in the waiting area, four stations, a row of vintage sinks along the back wall. The decor ticks all the hipster clichés; exposed brickwork, reclaimed wood, wrought iron fixtures, naked lightbulbs dangling on long cords from the ceiling. Slinky beats play over the sound system, a little too much bass for comfort, and Jisoo begins to wonder if this is really the right place. It's hard to imagine Lisa, with her sleek power suits and an AirPod perpetually stuck in her ear, sitting in one of those old-fashioned barber's chairs. But it was on the studio exec's recommendation that Jisoo made the appointment. She was told this particular stylist is heavily in-demand, booked solidly for months in advance, but all she had to do was name-drop Lisa and the salon would magically find the time to squeeze her in.

Which is how Jisoo finds herself in Los Feliz at noon on a Tuesday.

Reception is manned by a tall, muscular guy with a shaved head, a face full of piercings, and an elaborate tattoo on his neck. Based on appearances alone, Jisoo assumes he's going to have an attitude, but he offers a disarmingly friendly smile as she slides off her sunglasses, a spark of recognition in his eyes.

"Hi, Jisoo Kim. I have an appointment with—"

"Jennie. I'll take it from here, Hanbin."

A woman stands to the side, eyes coolly appraising. Jisoo hadn't even heard the approach, and she's a little thrown by it, by Jennie in general.

Because Jennie is... not at all what Jisoo had imagined. Well, she's not sure what she expected. Someone more seasoned to match the reputation that precedes her. With her doe eyes and elfin features and a mouth that's default setting seems to be a perfect pout, Jennie can't be a day older than twenty-five.

Remembering her manners, Jisoo offers her hand. "Nice to meet you."

Jennie's grip is surprisingly firm, her long, slender fingers wrapping around Jisoo's own and squeezing once.

"Let's get you settled, hm," Jennie says, leading Jisoo over to the sole empty chair. "Can I offer you a refreshment? We have water, coffee, tea, craft beer, wine. Or I can send Tris to the juice bar down the street if you want something else...?"

"I'm good, thanks."

Around them the salon is abuzz with activity; three other stylists cutting, applying foils, blow-drying while their clients chatter and a young girl goes around with a broom sweeping the floor.

Jisoo meets Jennie's eyes in the mirror.

Something about the intense focus of her gaze leaves Jisoo dry-mouthed and wishing she'd accepted that drink after all.

"So—what did you have in mind?"

"A shag."

There's a pause.

Jennie raises one eyebrow. The faintest hint of a smirk twitches at the corner of her mouth. "Usually, a girl has to take me out to dinner first."

It takes a second for Jisoo to cotton on.

When she does, her eyes widen.

She chokes on a nervous burst of laughter. Touches a hand to her cheek, as though she could ward off the blush, but her face has already turned a deep shade of red.

"Okay, um, let me rephrase that. I need to get a '70s-style shag haircut for an upcoming role."

"I figured," Jennie says drily. Green eyes sparkle in the reflection. "Relax. I'm just fucking with you."