Taylor stood in front of the mirror, sighing.
"What's your problem?" asked Isaac, sprawled on the bed, reading.
"My hair." Taylor said, motioning to the rat's nest of blonde locks with his pitiful comb.
Isaac laughed. "Better get that cleaned up by the time Kris gets here."
Taylor tore at his hair faster. "You're still in your boxers, Jess is coming, and you're telling me that?" he shot back, painfully raking his thick hair. "God, I wish I could cut this."