For the next few days, Cain found himself busier than ever at the salon.
Word had spread about his unique style, and customers were pouring in, eager to get a piece of the magic he was creating.
Every day, he was raking in more than ten thousand dollars in payments and tips combined. But the money wasn't what drove him. Half of his earnings went back to CROSS, his gang, while the other half was used to upgrade his wardrobe and instruments.
His gang members were thrilled that Cain was bringing in serious cash, and they were content to leave him alone for now. They figured his absence was due to some side gigs or, worse, a real job.
The thought of Cain, who had always shunned work, actually doing something legit was hilarious to Joker and Bones. They joked non-stop about it, finding the idea of Cain working too embarrassing to believe.
Although they were curious about what kind of job Cain had taken up to pull in that kind of money, they decided to let it slide for now.
Meanwhile, Cain kept his online presence alive, though he shifted the focus from hairstyling to dancing. He was still practicing his instruments and singing, slowly revealing this side of himself to his fans and followers so they wouldn't be too shocked when he eventually made his big move.
Cain was careful not to reveal where he worked, keeping his private life separate from his rising fame as C.C. But he couldn't ignore the effects of his growing popularity.
Whenever he went out as C.C., he was recognized instantly. People snapped pictures, and fans clamored for selfies, which made him extremely cautious, especially around women.
There was one particularly terrifying incident when he was mobbed by a group of girls. For the first time in his life, Cain felt genuine fear.
Luckily, he was a fast runner and managed to escape the crowd. After that close call, he became more cautious about appearing in public as C.C. Whenever possible, he stepped out as Cain, the scary gangster, whether it was to buy groceries or just to get to work.
It was a delicate balance, living two lives — but Cain was determined to make it work.
"That may be true," Victor said, "but our clients, especially the celebrities, are incredibly selective. They stick with their trusted stylists because their looks are everything. And when they're satisfied, they tip big to protect their image, which is why our staff isn't about to let them go without a fight."
"I see . . ." Cain cracked his knuckles, a grin spreading across his face as his competitive nature flared. "Come and fight me then. All of you, bring it on."
"That's not the kind of fight I'm talking about," Victor deadpanned.
But Cain was already pumped up, ready to take on anyone who dared to challenge him.
"Like I said, it's not that kind of fight."
As Victor and Cain talked, another staff member nearby shot a glare in C.C.'s direction. Jackson had been working at Daddy's Salon for four years, building a loyal client base who came to him for his expertise. He was one of the top hairstylists, and many salons had offered him lucrative deals to jump ship. But the connections he had forged at Daddy's were irreplaceable.
Now, though, this new guy was stealing his thunder — and some of his old clients, too.
At first, it was just a few new clients getting their hair styled by C.C. But when Jackson's regulars saw how C.C. styled others' hair, they got curious. Eventually, they tried him out as their stylist. One session was all it took, and they were completely won over by the newcomer.
Jackson had poured all his skills and knowledge into earning their trust over time, but just like that, C.C. had stolen them away!
Luckily, C.C. didn't know how to style women's hair, so Jackson still retained his female clients. If it weren't for that, he might have lost everyone to C.C., who had already swiped most of the older male clientele.
Jackson also had a few celebrity clients, so he wasn't worried about running out of work anytime soon. However, if things kept going this way, C.C. might actually steal all of his clients!
I need to do something, Jackson thought, biting his thumb as he noticed the white comb that C.C. always used to style his clients' hair.
Come to think of it, he'd never seen C.C. use any other brush. What if . . . What if he stole it?