Calum Hood One Shots

Know Me [Trust Fund!Calum AU]

Summary: Nura doesn't quite care for for the rich guests with superiority complexes that stay at the resort she works for. In her opinion, she finds them living with their heads up their asses and most of them haven't lifted a pinky to do any work themselves. That's exactly what she thinks of Calum Hood, and he doesn't give her much reason to think otherwise. Until he does.

 People were predictable. That was one of the first things Nura Ansari learned when she first started working at the Little Palm Island Resort and Spa when she was sixteen. Nearly six years on the job and she'd developed the skill of reading people; just one sweep of her gaze and knowing exactly the kind they would be. The resort was a luxurious one, its patrons that of high celebrity rank or families with loads of money to throw around that wouldn't make a dent in their bank account once it was gone. She could pick apart the parents who didn't care what their kids got up to, the younger crowd with the sponsors booking them the finest room the resort had to offer to show it off on their social media garnering millions of followers, those who legitimately wanted to enjoy a family vacation, and everyone else in between. Different people, all ultimately the same beyond the surface.

But despite the exasperation she often felt with most of her encounters, Nura had learned to become patient, as well. Had perfected a smile fake enough that it seemed real—or maybe she was only given that illusion, seeing many of the patrons were blind to everything but their good time—and had become capable of accommodating the most difficult of customers. She started off as a lifeguard before moving onto waitressing and bartending, a job she came back to every summer since she turned sixteen. Hopefully, this was her last.

"Look alive, Nura." She straightened her back immediately at the sound of Patrick, her co-worker's voice, exiting out of Tumblr that had been opened up on her browser. This morning she was covering Elaine's shift at the front desk, and would be off by two and would have the day to herself until her waitressing shift from seven to midnight started.

Sticking the orange flavored gum to her mouth, Nura drew her attention to the guests approaching them, sharp eyes taking in the group of four guys and three girls. They rolled in with the breeze that engaged the plants by the door in a dance, the scent of sea salt one Nura's nose had become numb to over the years. The early afternoon sun was high in the summer sky, the glass walls of the lobby allowing for the bright sun rays to bathe the room, the wooden and glass furniture glimmering amidst it. If she listened closely enough, Nura would be able to hear the swishing of palm trees right outside, or the relatively distant waves of the ocean. No matter how many years of this job Nura had under her belt, those were sounds she would never grow tired of hearing. Ironic, given that she's trying to get out. Not just the island, but Florida as a whole.

The group of seven were giddy, chattering amongst themselves as the sounds of their voices carried throughout the open lobby, taking advantage of the welcome cocktails Amber was offering them by the door. The girls were carrying their totes and guys were each wearing backpacks, and Nura caught sight of Mattie and Rob, the two bellhops, each rolling in with a cart full of luggage. Nura's eyes shifted back to the group approaching the front desk, taking them in in all the glory of their glowing skin and shining hair and bright smiles. She couldn't forget the designer clothes that, not for the first time, made her feel inadequate in her uniform of the resort's signature baby blue button down tucked into a black pencil skirt that stopped above her knees.

Nura swallowed down that unwanted thought that was good for nothing but putting herself down. Comparing her appearance to that of others was something she'd put an end to years ago; she had to, in order to work this job. So she put on her smile, gaze shifting to the guy in front of the group, whose head was ducked as he used his free hand to dig out his wallet, the glass already half empty in his other hand. "Good afternoon, welcome to Little Palm Island Resort and Spa," she began, the rehearsed speech rolling off her tongue effortlessly despite manning the front desk not being her priority. "I'm Nura, can I—"