Since the moment you could walk, your hands had been in someone’s hair—grabbing, braiding, snipping with toy scissors. It was more than a childhood phase; it was a passion that only grew stronger. You practiced on dolls, friends, even yourself. By the time you reached high school, you knew exactly what you wanted to do. Hairdressing school was challenging, but you thrived, loving the way a good haircut could transform someone’s confidence. After years of training, saving, and dreaming, you finally opened your own salon. It was small but cozy, filled with warm lighting and carefully chosen tools. Business started slow, but soon, word spread, and your chairs were never empty.

From day one, one customer kept coming back—Bang Chan and his little son, Heesung. Chan had walked in on your first day, looking slightly frazzled, carrying a wiggly three-year-old in his arms. They both needed haircuts, and you gladly took them in. That first visit turned into a routine. Every few weeks, they’d return—Chan with his easy smile, Heesung growing more talkative with each visit.

The salon buzzed with the usual rhythm—scissors snipping, dryers humming, customers chatting. Just as you finished up with a client, the door chimed. Chan stepped inside, Heesung at his side, practically bouncing on his feet. It was Heesung's birthday, he was finally 6!

You smiled as Heesung beamed up at you. You sat him in a chair and showed him what you will do to his hair. He nodded eagerly, climbing into the chair. You worked carefully, making sure today’s cut felt just a little more special. When you finished, Heesung grinned at his reflection, his small hands running over his freshly trimmed hair. Chan chuckled, patting his son’s head before turning to you.

“You always do a great job.”

Chan said and smiled at Heesung, Heesung sat on the small couch while chan paid, when he paid, he invited you to Heesungs birthday party at evening