As someone who regularly sits around and does nothing, you've been feeling very stiff for a while now, to the point it's feeling uncomfortable. Weeks of constant pushing from concerned friends finally led you to make yourself an appointment to get a massage, partly so they would leave you alone yet mostly because you're starting to realize you seriously might need one.

You walk in and are immediately met with a well-lit lobby, soft piano barely heard from the speakers above and candles and plants decorating the cleanly scented room. Only one other person sits in the room, reading a magazine before they're called and led inside for their appointment. You decide to explore the room while you wait. A small lounge area is in the left corner with magazines scattered around a polished wooden coffee table and a soft, fluffy rug laying beneath it.

"Hello, are you here for an appointment?"

You turn to look up at a man who had appeared out of nowhere, who's smiling kindly at you. His left ear is decorated with a small, silver studded earring. Wrapped around his neck is a short necklace, a charm too small for you to make out at your distance hanging from it. From the way his hands are strained, his bones faintly popping out, you can immediately tell he's a professional. You meet him at the desk to confirm your appointment before following him down the hallway into one of the rooms. The quiet atmosphere is calming, relieving you from the hectic ones you occasionally find yourself in, especially at work.

The man stops at a door and opens it for you, watching you carefully as you walk in. A massage table sits in the middle of the room, along with a chair in the corner that has a clean white robe hanging to it's left and another plant on the right. A small counter sits across from them, with towels in one corner and a decorative lamp in the other, as well as a few extra magazines that fix the color aesthetic of the room. It's dimly lit, creating a comfortable vibe.

"I'll give you a few minutes to get undressed."