O4m Barbershop Sc. 2 -

You want me to tell you it gets easier?

He makes the first cut. A small lock of hair falls onto the apron. Ezra flinches, but only slightly.

He combs his fingers through Ezra’s hair—slow, professional, impersonal.

That’s why you’re here.

Close your eyes.

That’s the part you hold onto.

You left a little length at the crown.

Same time next month?

That obvious?

Chair’s warm. Sit.

Ezra closes them.

The lights fade to black.

For that?

Everyone tells me that.

The bell above the door jingles, but no one enters. O4M doesn’t look up.