Chapter 36
As the stylist departed, I couldn't help but be captivated by the salon's lavish ambiance. The mirrors sparkled like diamonds, and the chairs seemed to gleam with an air of sophistication, as if plucked straight from the pages of a luxury hotel.I felt like royalty, pampered and indulged, as the stylist returned with a chilled juice box in hand. "Why is this?" I asked, my curiosity piqued by the thoughtful gesture.
"It's how we treat our customers," she replied, her smile warm and genuine. "We give them something to keep them comfortable while they wait." I thanked her, my fingers wrapping around the juice box as I took a sip. The cool liquid slid down my throat, a refreshing respite from the anticipation building within me.
Just as I was settling in, the stylist reappeared, this time bearing a plate of delectable snacks. I was taken aback, my eyes widening in surprise. The aroma of the snacks wafted up, tantalizing my taste buds, and I devoured them gratefully.
Before I knew it, a team of stylists had assembled around me, their hands moving in perfect synchrony as they worked to dismantle my braids. "Should we cut the braids?" one of them asked, her eyes locked on the long extensions. I nodded, explaining that my natural hair was shoulder-length, and the braids had been in for weeks. They nodded in understanding, deciding to cut the braids from my shoulder length.
As they worked their magic, I sipped my juice, feeling the tension in my scalp ease with each careful unraveling of the braids. The stylists' fingers danced through my hair, their touch gentle and soothing. I closed my eyes, letting the stress melt away, and allowed myself to be transported to a world of tranquility, where the only sound was the soft hum of the salon and the gentle rustle of hair being transformed.
As the hours passed, the stylists finally finished taking down my braids, and I felt a sense of relief wash over me. The gentle touch of their fingers had been so soothing that I might have even dozed off for a moment. A gentle tap on my shoulder brought me back to reality. "Sorry, ma'am, you need to wash your hair now," one of the stylists said, smiling. "You'll be led to the washing area."
I stood up, stretching my arms, and caught a glimpse of myself in the mirror. My hair was thick and full, cascading down my shoulders in luscious waves. I marveled at its natural beauty, untouched by chemicals. It was my own hair, grown out for two whole years without a trim. I remembered cutting it short as a child, hating the hassle of braids and hair care. Now, I was proud of its length, although I couldn't help but think my mom's hair was longer.
The stylist led me to the washing area, where a comfortable table awaited. I lay down, positioning my hair for the wash. The lady began by gently scraping out the tangles and dirt, her touch so gentle it felt like a massage. I closed my eyes, letting out a sigh of bliss. These people were truly artists, and I knew I'd be coming back to this salon again and again. The experience was sublime, and I felt like royalty, pampered and indulged.
As the stylist's fingers danced across my scalp, gently scraping away the tangles and dirt, I felt a sense of tranquility wash over me. The warm water poured down, a soothing melody that seemed to lull my worries to sleep. The machine that delivered the water was a marvel, its gentle stream a balm to my scalp. I closed my eyes, letting the experience envelop me.
This salon was a world away from the rushed, rough places I'd visited before. Here, the stylists took their time, pampering me with every touch. The warm water cascaded down, and the sweet scent of shampoo filled the air, transporting me to a place of serenity. The stylist's hands moved with a gentle reverence, massaging my scalp and working out the knots. And then, in a surprise move, she began to massage my neck, her fingers kneading out the tension.
I felt my muscles relax, my mind calm, and before I knew it, I had drifted off into a peaceful slumber. Time lost all meaning as I floated on a cloud of bliss. The experience had been nothing short of transcendent. I knew, in that moment, that I would return to this saloon again and again.
The gentle tap on my shoulder brought me back to reality, and I opened my eyes to find the stylist smiling at me. "I'm done washing your hair," she said, her voice soft and soothing. I stood up, feeling refreshed and rejuvenated, and was led to the styling area.
The stylists blow-dried my hair, and I was asked if I wanted braids. "No, I don't want braids," I said firmly. "I want a silk press." The lady smiled and nodded, understanding my preference.
Just as they were working their magic on my hair, my phone rang. I looked at the screen and saw Mom's name flashing. I answered the video call, and her face appeared on the screen. "Oh, my princess!" she exclaimed.
"Hey, Mom," I replied, trying to hide my annoyance. "What?.. aren't you happy to see me?" she asked, and I shot back, "Well, Mom, thank goodness you finally remember you have a daughter that exists."
Mom's expression turned apologetic. "I know you're really angry, okay. Don't worry, I will be coming to Korea soon. This time around, your dad and I will be coming together." I rolled my eyes. "Whatever, Mom. Suit yourself."
Mom's eyes scanned my surroundings, and she spotted the stylists working on my hair. "Who are those touching your hair? Are you in a salon?" she asked. I explained that I was getting a silk press, and she replied, "Suit yourself."
I added, "Mom, wouldn't you advise me against it?" Mom chuckled. "Sarah, Sarah, Sarah, it's a free world. Do whatever you want to do, do whatever makes you happy." Then she asked if I had a boyfriend that I wanted to please, and I brushed it off. "Mom, stop."
Finally, she asked why I was getting a silk press, and I explained that there was a welcome-back party at school for final years. "There's a party in school tonight, and I need to attend," I said, and Mom nodded, seemingly satisfied with my response "Okay, I sent some money to you. You can change it into Korean currency," she said, showing she still cared about my needs despite her busy schedule. Then, with a hint of finality, she added, "I'll call you later. I need to deal with some things here." With that, the call disconnected, leaving me to focus on getting ready for the party. I felt a mix of relief and anticipation as I watched the stylists continue to work their magic on my hair, transforming me into a vision of elegance for the night ahead.