Angelica Avni was still feeling the rush from her day at “The Ultimate Hair Job” event. Her ankle-length hair had drawn all the attention, and she couldn't deny that the connection with Max, the charming stylist, had left her exhilarated. He had a way of making her feel special, and after their impromptu dinner date, she was curious to see where things would go.

Over the next few weeks, Angelica and Max grew closer. He would always compliment her hair, calling it a masterpiece, and during their conversations, his fascination with her long locks became increasingly evident. Angelica appreciated the admiration at first, as it made her feel unique, but after a while, it started to seem a little intense.

One day, Max invited Angelica over to his apartment for dinner. She eagerly accepted, excited to see more of his world. His apartment was stylish and well-decorated, filled with cozy furniture and artistic flair—just as she had imagined. As Max cooked dinner, Angelica excused herself to explore the place.

She wandered into his bedroom, her eyes landing on a wall covered with framed photos. She moved closer, and her breath caught in her throat. The photos were all of women with extremely long hair. Some had their hair styled in braids, others had it flowing freely. In every image, the focus was on their hair, with some pictures zoomed in on the length or the movement of the strands.

Angelica felt a chill run down her spine. There were at least twenty photos, and each one seemed more focused on the hair than the person. She noticed that Max even had a couple of shots of her from the hair job event, which made her stomach turn. The photos weren’t framed lovingly; they felt obsessive, almost as if these women were trophies.

Max appeared behind her silently, causing her to jump. “Oh, you found my collection,” he said, his voice casual but his eyes betraying a hint of unease. He stepped closer, almost blocking her view of the wall. “I’ve always been fascinated by long hair—it’s beautiful, isn’t it?”

Angelica forced a smile, her heart pounding. “Yeah, it’s... something,” she said, trying to keep her voice steady. The air in the room felt heavy, and the charm that had initially drawn her to Max now seemed unsettling. She realized just how deep his fixation went, and she couldn't shake the feeling that there was something wrong about all of this.

Max moved even closer, brushing his fingers against her hair. “You know, your hair is the most beautiful I’ve ever seen,” he said, his voice almost a whisper. “I’d love to keep it forever.”

Angelica stepped back, her instincts screaming at her that something was off. She mumbled an excuse about needing some air and quickly left the room. Her heart was pounding as she made her way to the front door, feeling a sense of panic rising within her. She needed to get out of there.

Max followed her to the door, his expression confused. “Angelica, is everything okay?” he asked, his tone genuinely concerned, but Angelica could barely hear him over the sound of her own heartbeat.

“I just remembered I have an early call tomorrow,” she lied, forcing a smile. “I’ll talk to you later.”

As she stepped outside and the door closed behind her, she let out a shaky breath. Something about Max’s obsession with hair had gone beyond simple admiration—it felt darker, almost possessive. She knew she needed to be careful around him from now on.