Since my “different hair colors” post got so much love, i decided to compile another one! these range from November 2016 - August 2017! They are in order from oldest to newest <3 There’s 3 hair colors missing, that is from he last 4 weeks, but there’s a limit for pictures!(And a lot of purple/Blue/Pink variaions missing as well)
I’m already starting part two so let me know what you guys think please :)
Stupid big corporation economy. Stupid private schools with
stupid unreasonable tuitions. Stupid Lance for thinking he could handle it.
All he’d wanted was to make his family proud. To be a good
example for his siblings and younger cousins in comparison to the dead beats
his older cousins had become. He wanted to show them it was possible to go out
and explore the world and get more than their shitty neighborhood in Houston
slums. That it was good to dream big and go for what you wanted. That they were
more than the stereotype.
They weren’t just meant for a hand-me-down mechanics shop,
housecleaning, gardening, and street-vending. They were meant for more. They
could be astronauts, doctors, lawyers, writers, anything.
The angry booming voice of his grandfather pierced through
his regret as he cleaned the dishes at his tia’s restaurant. It was almost
bankrupt, and hardly anyone came in, especially with the location. It was
hidden, and it looked shabby on the outside. A ditch by the parking lot, and potholes
littered across the parking lot like polka dots. A phone booth that was half
knocked over and covered in graffiti stood nearby. It was a miracle his tia had
managed this long.
“Don’t worry, mijito,”
she would say. “As soon as this goes down, I’m opening my salon.” Lance never
tried to mention the lack of money that would diminish that dream.
“Yes, Papo?” he answered, scrubbing the plates more
“Don’t forget to stop by the shop later so we can fix your
mother’s car.” He nodded and delved into the dishes again.
heard his tia Carla croon. “Go wait that table please, honey, I have some bills
to look over. I’ll finish those or Dianita will.”
“Okay,” he mumbled. He didn’t mind working. It was more the
fact that everyone thought he was working the restaurant and the mechanic shop
for summer money. They had no idea he was here for good. That he was stuck.
That he’d failed.
He walked out to the tables, wiping his hands on his apron
and grabbed the tray of drinks he assumed were theirs since they were the only
table occupied. “Sweet tea?” he asked. A guy with a weird white streak in his
hair waved. “Soda?” A heavyset guy with tribal tattoos along his arm and a
child with wide glasses raised their hands dismissively. “And this is yours
then,” he said, setting down the lemonade in front of a boy with long hair pulled
into a low ponytail. Several strands fell forward regardless. “Ready to order?”