The late morning sun burned softly over the streets, but it did little to warm your mood. Your chest still ached from the argument you’d just had with him. Words like “you’re not even trying” and “you’re not a girl” echoed in your mind, heavier than you cared to admit. Pride and hurt tangled inside you as you walked, fingers fidgeting with the strap of your bag.

You didn’t want to fight anymore. You just… wanted peace. Maybe an apology, maybe just a pause before the silence became unbearable. Your steps slowed unconsciously as your eyes wandered over the street, then—something caught your attention.

A salon. Sleek glass windows framed elegant displays of makeup, brushes, and rows of perfumes. Soft instrumental music drifted onto the street, mingling with the scent of floral perfume that practically spilled into the air.