Imagine: Wisp having to serve people. Like a butler. Like bringing things to their room and stuff. The mere thought of it rubbed him the wrong way. He wasn’t some servant at the beck and call of others! He had dignity! Someday the people would respect him, instead of pointing and laughing at him when he crossed the street, he decided, as he stepped out of the elevator in a suit holding a plate of caviar to be delivered to room 52.
Who the hell orders caviar? He didn’t even know the place stocked it? Surely if there was enough money for luxurious food, they could afford to fix the fucking elevator? Instead he had to stand there for 10 minutes waiting for the stupid metal box to go down, like, 8 floors. And the whole time people were staring at him. Embarrassing stuff.
“Hello? Room Service for 52. Anyone there?”
The door slid open instead of swinging open, which was strange because he was pretty sure every single door in this place was a normal door. Standing there was, and bear with me here, Unze. From the channel Femboy Gaming.
“Holy shit! You’re Unze! From the channel Femboy Gaming!”
“Yeah. I get that a lot.”
“Oh. You’re not Unze?”
“No, I am. That’s why I get it a lot. Thanks for the caviar.”
“Wow. I didn’t know you streamed from a hotel like this. Aren’t you, like, absolutely stacked? You could probably afford a better place than this.”
“That’s what the viewers are expecting. None of them will think I’m squatting in a perfectly normal hotel off Route 68.”
“We serve caviar on our menu. I don’t think this is a normal hotel.”
“You just haven’t experienced a new normal yet!”
“Does anyone else know you’re here? I’m like a huge fan.”
“No, I usually stay inside and get room service to put it in front of the door. I guess you must be new. So, you’re a huge fan, huh? ;)”
“How did you do that?”
“Do what?”
“The winky face.”
“Is it a yes or a no?”
“Sorry, the employee code says that’s off limits.”
“:(“
Wisp was impressed by his ability to turn expressions into words, but he had a job to do and he couldn’t afford to lose it. He still hadn’t told Kyki he’d been paying for their room and he didn’t even swing that way to begin with (probably).
He was subsequently jumpscared by the sound of a vent slamming open behind him, nearly dropping the plate.
“Did you say Unze? From the channel Femboy Gaming?”
“Yup. That’s me. Unze from the channel Femboy Gaming.”
A single impossibly skinny arm extended out from the floor, 6 ft up, all the way to Unze’s face.
“Can I get an autograph?”
Clutched in its grasp was a pristine, unwrinkled, factory new index card, coupled with a quill and an inkwell. Unze demonstrated his incompetence with old-era writing utensils, as he tried desperately to get the quill to hold ink. After 394 seconds, he was used enough to the pen to scribble out his signature in shoddy cursive. The arm retracted into the vent with its prize.
Wisp caught it by the finger just before it slipped away.
“Unze just gave you something. Doesn’t that mean you have to give something back?”
“But I asked for it without saying I would have to give anything back. So it's like a gift.”
“Are you trying to weasel your way out of your due diligence?”
This content has been misappropriated from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.
“No. I would never do that. I am just right, and you are wrong.”
And Wisp felt all of a sudden persuaded to agree. He saw colors upon colors, iridescent bubbles filled with all his happy memories and the sum of his contentment. Then his dazed grin slipped from his face, and his world was gray. For there were precious few bubbles, and those that were began to melt and fade away. He gripped the hand tighter.
“Give him what he deserves, Chasma.”
“Okay. Fine. Take this stupid thing anyway, I don’t need it. Simp for Unze. See if I care.”
“I’m not si-”
Wisp got utterly clocked in the face by a pinkish, throbbing vial of unknown substance. Upon landing on the floor, the wood cracked from being impacted by the glass. Unze picked up the concoction.
“...Thanks?”
“Someone had to do it. Otherwise it’d keep swiping my goddamn Gushers. My stockpile keeps shrinking mysteriously and it's easy to tell who keeps taking it.”
“The label says this is a Potion of Seduction.”
“That’s my cue to leave! Here’s your plate, I’ll be going, I’ve got places to be—”
“I’m sure you could stay here a bit longer and help me test my new present… :)”
Never had he been so worried about a smiley face before. And then, oh! Saved by the bell! Aka the ring of his phone, playing the really stupid ringtone Rico had changed it to the day before that he had never noticed.
♫♫ Two trucks having sex, two trucks having sex!
My muscles, my muscles, involuntarily flex!♫♫
Wisp added a mental note to add a pinch of ricin to Rico’s coffee later on.
“Aha, sorry, I’m busy, lots of stuff to do, gotta take this call bye!”
He swiftly fled into the stairwell to the chagrin of Unze.
“I’ll be here if you change your mind!”
Wisp was at least glad his luck could not get any better/worse than this as he took the call.
“Hello, Tooth Hotel employee here, how may I help you?”
“It’s me, Wisp.”
“Oh. Sorry Mr. Bytes. I’m just used to customers calling my personal phone all the time.”
“Why do you let them?”
“I didn’t. You posted mine on the wall in the lobby as our helpline. I keep getting calls from Dave about dragging Acid out of her room and many requests for first aid kits around the hotel.”
“Yeah, I’ll get on it soon. Did The Incident turn out okay?”
“Mei will be discharged from the hospital soon. Vola’s been sulking in his room with a concussion and a black eye he won’t let anyone treat. He tried to sue her for assault, but the judge was browsing through Instagram and said Vola was too short (not 6 ft) so she wouldn’t take the case. And then Mei heard about it and called my phone while I was visiting him to tell Vola that he was a little baby man…”
“Don’t worry about it. The security I hired will keep the two apart.”
“You think security is gonna stop him? Did you see what happened to Mei? The hospital bill was enormous!”
“It's the best we can do. After all, the customer…”
“... is always right. I know. I just didn’t think catering to the people here would be that hard.”
“Hang in there. It’ll get better. I promise.”
The line went dead and he sat down on the steel steps. Mr. Bytes was a very strange man, always bringing out the weird in people. Tended to attract the wackos too. Which might mean Wisp was a wacko as well. God, this hotel was so confusing.
“You okay?”
Kyki took a seat next to him on the stairs.
“How’d you know I was here?”
“I didn’t. I just came out here to sit.”
“You come out here just to sit?”
“You’re doing it too, aren’t you?”
Wisp looked down, and yes, he was sitting on the stairs.
“I guess I am.”
“Are you happy as a hotel worker?”
“I mean, it's not really my cup of tea. I’ve never really liked the idea of working, and it's always very tiring. Too much responsibility. Kind of wish I could just—”
“Run away?”
“Yeah. How’d you— oh.”
“If I can do it, you can too. Nothing’s stopping you. Just get a few credit cards and use those instead of working.”
“But I can’t do that, I need money to eat and sleep and not go into debt and pay for your room. Responsibility follows me wherever I go.”
“You’re paying for my room?”
“Your credit card maxed out and I didn’t feel like telling you to go back outside in the cold.”
Kyki stood up and started walking down the stairs.
“Wait, what? Where are you going?”
They looked up at him from the lower floor.
“I’ll take over a shift for you. Then I can pay for my own room and your bank account will get to live another day.”
“...thank you.”
And Wisp conked out, right there on the steps. No pillow, no blanket. Severe risk of hypothermia. Completely unsupervised. At high risk of getting stepped on accidentally in his sleep. Kyki just kept walking down the stairs, wondering how hard a job interview could possibly be.
Wisp sat down on the break room couch heavily, glancing at his phone for a whole two seconds before tossing it on the table.
“How’d you get the coffee machine to work again anyway? I don’t know how to use it at all.”
Rico filled up another mug and handed it to him.
“It was pretty easy once you know how the parts work and come together.”
“By the way, why do you always add so many sugar cubes to your coffee?”
Rico sipped from his mug and reached into a little bowl nearby, pulling out a few little white bits and dropping them in.
“See? Like that! What was that, four cubes?”
“What do you mean coffee?”
Wisp shook his head and took a big sip of coffee, expecting it to be warm and fresh, and was met with liquid magma. Or the equivalent. Like liquid satan. He nearly spilled the whole thing on himself (and he was glad he didn’t. That’s like third degree burns in the making).
“Jesus christ, Rico! Hot chocolate? At 200 degrees Celsius? Masochist?!”
“You get used to the heat eventually.”
Rico slugged down the whole thing in 6 seconds, marshmallows and all. Wisp was horrified.
“Do you have any idea what that does to your blood sugar levels?”
Rico chucked the mug at his face and he caught it in midair and pushed himself up to wash it in the sink.