Jennie
The elevator ride to the top floor was nothing short of posh and sophistication. The surrounding walls comprised of grey smoky mirrors. The carpet, a thick patterned red, it tempted me to take my shoes off and settle my bare feet against it to test my theory on its softness.
Soft music crooned from the speakers high up and cool air blew from tiny holes above as the elevator buttons lit up until we reached the penthouse where a code of some kind was needed to be entered in before we exited.
It would be a dream to live in here. In an elevator that was most likely half the size of my one bedroom apartment but so much better at the same time. I could have bet my soul that the carpets were more comfortable than the sofa I was currently sleeping on as I internally winced while mentally hearing the distressed sounds of the springs protesting in response to weight of any kind.
Stepping out of the elevator, the same polished floors greeted us as I wanted to once again remove my shoes for fear that it might have caused specs of dirt to litter the sparkling flooring. The passing walls held paintings of what could have only been originals of Michelangelo's and Picasso's famous pieces.
Soon we were standing in front two large oak doors which were the only set on this floor that was guarded by two of the hotel staff dressed smartly in what I assumed was the uniform of black trousers, white shirt, black tie and a red evening jacket with the hotel's logo. They even wore white gloves which spoke volumes of the class and status of the place as they stood almost robotically as though they had extensive military training.
Confirming that we were from the catering service which represented the restaurant I worked at from a list they held, while they each grabbed a handle of the heavy door and ushered us inside.
Amazing.
Utterly magnificent.
Fit for a king.
Those were just some of my thoughts regarding my vision. I stood rooted to my spot at the entrance as I drank in my scenery. Floor to ceiling glass windows offered a view of the coming darkened night as hundreds of lit up buildings far and wide laid at its feet.
White couches with throw pillows scattered haphazardly but elegantly made up the living area in front a golden fireside. Atop was a huge flat screen television that took up the entire wall. A Persian rug was sprawled out under a huge glass coffee table.
A fancy chandelier hung over a mini seating area on the other side of the room across the base of a winding staircase. At the far end a dining table sat close by the panoramic view a few meters away from the luxurious black and granite kitchen. Everything around me was sparkling clean and screamed wealth.
"Isn't it gorgeous?" Irene exclaimed conversationally as we dished out the food while the rest of the team unwrapped containers of appetisers. From the labels I saw that we appeared to be serving Swedish meatballs, smoked salmon cake, crab cake, shrimp stuffed mushrooms, lobster avocado cocktail, shrimp cocktail, sweet roasted grapes, bacon devilled eggs, caviar quiches and for dessert, trays of exotic fruits and cheeses were being set up elegantly along with mini parfaits and cupcakes. Wow, Mr. Yang really went all out for his exclusive client.
"Incredibly." I replied to Irene while still looking around in utter amazement. From what I could have seen, a mini bar was being set up outside on the terrace as the hotel staff bustled in and out putting together last minute touch ups.
"I can see why Mr. Yang was on edge." Ji-Sub, a forty something year old waiter said taking in the commotion.
"It's quite intimidating." Irene replied, "But isn't this party missing actual people... where is everyone?"
