The club house was breathtaking, surrounded by a sea of flowers that painted the air with color and fragrance. Beds of tulips and lavender framed the stone pathway, while cherry trees stood in bloom, their petals drifting gently in the soft breeze like pink snow. Jay, despite his dread for what awaited him, couldn't help but admire how serene the place looked—it felt like stepping into a peaceful dream.
His grandmother, full of purpose and enthusiasm, led him up the marble steps. The heavy wooden doors opened with a quiet creak, and the scent of sandalwood and incense immediately filled his senses. Inside, the decor was a perfect blend of tradition and artistry—mandala designs sprawled gracefully across the walls, maroon borders framing soft white paint.
Jay wrinkled his nose. "Smells… spiritual," he muttered under his breath, earning a light smack on the arm from Nonna.
"Show some respect," she scolded. "This is the sacred temple of beauty and hair restoration!"
