Whatever Chains (Sequel to Where Your Heart is - A Harry Styles fanfiction)

Part Twenty: The first cut is the deepest.

I really don't care whether I win this or not;  all I want is for it to be over so we can pick up our conversation right where we left it back in the kitchen.

To be quite honest, I'm kind off surprised I haven't been crushingly defeated yet, considering how truly distracted I actually am.

She was about to say it; loud and clear and staring right into my eyes. For the first time since forever, the words were about to come flying out of her mouth.

And that is all I can really think about. So I can only assume that the sole reason as to why I'm still standing, and quite fiercely, if I may add, is that my competitive instincts are kicking in and taking over the wheel.

"Okay! You're going for the last wedge, dad."

Lea can barely contain her excitement, which is making her father rather suspicious, since she was supposed to be outraged and so not on board with the whole thing, let alone so bubbly at the prospect of him having the upper hand.

At this point, I can't tell if she just wants the game to be over, just like I do, or if she actually wants to see me get mangled right before her eyes. But either way, I just love the way she's glowing right now.

"Shall I do the honors?" Ellie asks without even waiting for an answer, and she picks up the next card. "Alright, darling... Are you ready?"

Mr. Matheson is just one wedge away from the final question that would grant him the victory, whereas I still need to get two before I get to it.

But like I said, I don't really care.

The wedge he is missing is the pink one; and he just had landed in the right spot to earn it if he should answer the question correctly.

Ellie reads the card to herself first, and a short chuckle escapes out of her.

"Okay, this is just hilarious!" She says, shaking her head as she stares at the card. "Angus... What is the name of the TV reality show from which the boyband One Direction came from?"

We all burst into laughter, except for Mr. Matheson, of course, who quickly objects about the unfairness of the question, and demands a new one.

"It would be unfair if the question was for Harry, dad." Lea points out fairly, and we all nod on agreement. "You're gonna have to answer."

He protests once again but both women, who declared themselves impartial judges from the beginning, rule against him and force him to stick with the question.

"Just think, darling." Ellie encourages him. "Remember all those times Lea shoved that show down our throats for years!"

He is making a huge effort to remember. So much so, his already naturally flushed cheeks are becoming redder.

"It was the one with that rude bloke, yes?" He asks, almost to himself, and I chuckle. "The one with the chest hair? Simon something..."

Now that is the most accurate description of Simon I have ever heard in my life. So I nod, laughing.

"Jesus! What was the name of the show!? It had a letter on it... The X..." His fingers snap repeatedly, like he has it right in the top of his tongue, and he is about to get it right.

We are all practically holding our breaths as he gets closer to the right answer.

"Factor!" He shouts, banging the table with a fist, making the board and the pieces on them tremble. "The X Factor, damn it!"

Ellie announces that the answer is correct, and his chest inflates with pride. He is so happy about it, it almost makes me feel a little guilty.

Here he is, so convinced that he's about to take something that is really precious to me; and he has no idea that not only I couldn't care less, but he is actually saving me a trip to the hair salon.

"Okay, you're off to the final question." Lea says, trying to sound worried about it, but with a smile creeping on her face.

There is a small argument that follows, though. Mr. Matheson is convinced that he now has the right to return to his hub, and answer the final question. But Lea says that he has to answer all the questions needed to advance towards it.

"Why don't we get this over with?" I suggest, pretending to be defeated. "It's rather late anyway."

*****

It happened. I have lost. And the bet is about to be settled.

He looks so satisfied, it is almost insensitive. And as I sit down on the chair and I see him coming towards me with the scissors, I can't help to feel a little vulnerable and somewhat panicked.

I want to do this. I have to, really. But now that it is actually happening, I am not feeling as brave and unaffected as I was bragging to be.

I like my hair. I have been proudly growing and taking care of it for a really long time now, and if it wasn't for the role, I wouldn't even consider getting it chopped off.

I'm going to miss it. Not to mention, Lou is going to murder me for letting someone else touch my hair, let alone an amateur.

"Any final words?" At this point, and after a really bad performance at being vexed, Lea is definitely enjoying this moment.

"You were regal, and worshipped by millions." I say, half as a stress reliever and half as a real eulogy. "You shall be missed. And we will meet again soon."

Lea is looking at me at the verge of tears of hysterical laughter; her dad in utter disbelief, and her mother, well, she seems to be the only one who is actually concerned.

"You're seriously doing it?" She says, like she was still hoping that her husband would back down at the last minute.

But with a serious nod he walks around and behind me; and with firm grip at the pony tail Lea just tied up my hair into, he makes the first and final cut.

All I hear is the sound of the blade and a gasp of shock that I think came out of me.

And then it is over.