It was a gray, overcast Saturday, a perfect day for staying in. Chloe and I had planned a whole day of nothing but rest after a crazy week at work. We were supposed to just binge-watch a new series, but Chloe was restless. She kept pacing around the apartment, a frown etched on her face.
"Okay, I can't do this," she finally declared, stopping in front of the TV. "I need to get out. My head is so full of work stuff, I feel like I'm going to burst."
"But we said we'd just chill," I reminded her, not wanting to move from my cozy spot on the couch.
She came over and sat on the floor beside me, her eyes big and pleading. "I know, I know. But there's this new wellness spa that just opened up. It's supposed to be super relaxing and they do these amazing treatments. It's just what we need."
I sighed, unable to resist her puppy-dog eyes. "Fine. But just for a few hours. No all-day spa stuff."
"Deal!" she said, her smile returning.
The place was a minimalist's dream—all clean lines, soft lighting, and the scent of lavender and eucalyptus in the air. We were led to a private treatment room. The woman who greeted us, a tall woman with a calm demeanor, spoke to Chloe in hushed tones. They seemed to be speaking a language I didn't recognize, and they kept glancing at me and smiling. I just smiled back, a little confused but trying to be polite.
"She's asking you to lie down," Chloe explained, gesturing to the massage table. "This is for you. A surprise treatment."
I lay down, and the woman began to massage my neck and shoulders. It was a firm, deep pressure that felt incredible. Then, she started running her fingers through my hair, gently pulling at the roots. It was part of the head massage, I assumed. I closed my eyes, letting the stress melt away.
After a while, Chloe's friend asked me to sit up. She handed me a smooth, silk sheet and told me to hold it around my neck. I asked Chloe what it was for, but she just gave me a mischievous look and said, "Just trust me."
The woman started spraying something cool and wet on my head. It felt like water, and it was followed by a gentle, scraping sound. I assumed it was some kind of scalp scrub, part of the deep-cleansing treatment.
Then, I heard it again—that same scraping sound, but this time it was different. It was the sound of something sharp gliding over my skin. I felt a small, bristly sensation, and then a clump of my hair fell onto the silk sheet in my lap. I looked down, my eyes widening. My heart started to race.
"Is she... is she shaving my head?" I asked, my voice barely a whisper.
Chloe giggled from a chair in the corner. "Yes, she is! I always wanted to see you bald, and I knew you'd never agree to it otherwise."
I couldn't believe it. I was so surprised I didn't even know how to react. I just sat there, frozen, as the woman continued her work. The gentle, methodical scraping sound filled the silent room as locks of my hair fell to the floor, forming a dark halo around me. Within minutes, my head was completely smooth.
When she was finished, the woman took a moment to run her hand over my now-bare scalp. It was the strangest feeling—so smooth and cool. Chloe came over and gently rubbed my scalp, too. "It looks great," she whispered. "So clean."
After the surprise, the rest of the day was surprisingly relaxing. We went for a walk, and Chloe kept touching my head, her fingers tracing the new, smooth curve. The baldness felt liberating, a physical representation of the stress I had been trying to get rid of all week. That evening, back at the apartment, Chloe sat me down and, with a small bottle of oil, began to massage my scalp again. That day, a day that started with a massive surprise, turned out to be the most relaxing Saturday I'd ever had.
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