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The Cartel's Debt
Julio's long black hair flowed down his back like a waterfall, reaching past his waist. It was one of his most prized possessions, a symbol of his masculinity and strength. But all of that was about to change.
As Julio sat in the salon chair, his heart raced with fear and uncertainty. He had always dreamed of becoming a barber, just like his father before him. But now, as he gazed at his reflection in the mirror, he knew that his dreams were about to be shattered.
The salon was bustling with activity, the sound of hairdryers and chatter filling the air. Julio's kidnapper, the boss of the cartel his father had stolen from, stood over him with a wicked grin on his face.
"We're going to make you into a little princess," the boss said, his words laced with malice.
Julio's stomach turned at the thought. He had always been proud of his long, flowing locks, but now they seemed like a curse. He watched in horror as the boss summoned a waxing specialist, who began the painful process of removing every last strand of hair from Julio's body.
The waxing was followed by a manicure and pedicure, the sharp instruments scraping against Julio's skin as the stylist tended to his nails. Julio wanted to cry out, to beg for mercy, but he knew it would do no good. The boss was in charge here, and there was nothing Julio could do to stop him.
Finally, the boss called for a hairdresser, a woman with long blonde hair and a kind face. Julio's heart sank as she approached him with a pair of scissors in hand.
"We're going to give you a haircut, sweetie," she said, her voice soft and reassuring. "It's going to be okay."
Julio closed his eyes as the hairdresser began to snip away at his long locks, the sound of the scissors echoing through the salon. He tried to hold onto his memories of his old life, to the boy he had once been, but they seemed so far away now.
As the hairdresser worked, Julio felt his identity slipping away. He watched in the mirror as his long, flowing hair was transformed into a sleek, blunt cut, the kind often worn by girls. His heart ached at the sight, but there was nothing he could do to stop it.
Finally, the haircut was complete. Julio's hair now fell just past his shoulders, a far cry from the long, flowing locks he had once prized. The hairdresser sprayed it with a glossy finishing spray, and Julio watched as his once-proud mane became glossy and smooth.
The boss stood back, a satisfied grin on his face. "Perfect," he said. "Now for the final touch."
With a flourish, he produced a small box containing a pair of diamond earrings. Julio's heart sank as the boss approached him with a needle, his hands shaking as the sharp instrument pierced his earlobes.
As the weeks passed, Julio's transformation into Julia was complete. The once-proud boy was now a meek, submissive girl, her long black hair often styled into a high ponytail. She wore dresses and makeup, and spent her days tending to the whims of the boss and his associates.
Six months later, Julia stood at the end of a long aisle, a flowing white gown draped over her slender frame. Her long black hair was styled into an elegant updo, the diamond earrings sparkling in the light. She took a deep breath as she began to walk down the aisle, her heart racing with fear and uncertainty.
As she approached the alter, she saw the boss waiting for her with a smug smile on his face. She knew what this meant - she was being forced to marry him, to pay off the debt her father had incurred by stealing from the cartel.
Julia's heart ached as she took her place beside the boss, her eyes fixed on the ground. She couldn't bear to look at him, to see the triumphant gleam in his eyes. She knew that this was the end of her freedom, the end of her dreams.
As the ceremony went on, Julia's mind raced with thoughts of escape. She longed to run away, to return to her old life as Julio. But she knew it was impossible. She was trapped, a prisoner in this gilded cage.
Finally, the ceremony came to an end. Julia stood on shaking legs as the boss leaned in to kiss her, his lips pressing against hers in a cold, calculated gesture. She closed her eyes, trying to block out the feeling of his lips on hers.
As the kiss ended, Julia heard the sound of a camera shutter. She opened her eyes to see a photographer standing nearby, a smug smile on his face. He handed an envelope to the boss, who passed it to Julia.
Inside the envelope, Julia found a photo of her and the boss, their lips locked in a kiss. There was a note with it, written in the boss's slick handwriting. "Consider the debt paid," it read.
Julia's heart ached as she read the words. She knew that this was the end of her old life, the end of her dreams. She was now nothing more than the boss's property, a pawn in his twisted game.
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Does This Mean?
Julia is now free, or is the marriage permanent?