When The Rich Son Falls

Five

The cool breeze of a functioning air conditioner was what greeted Topher when he walked into the quiet lobby of The Bay Hotel. Aside from him, the lady at the front desk and the other staff she was talking to, no one else was around; and judging by the way both of them perked up in excitement as they saw him, he was almost sure that they rarely receive guests.

“Good afternoon, sir!” the woman, whose nametag had Mandy written on it, very brilliantly smiled at Topher as he approached them. She had blonde hair tied neatly and tightly into a bun, a pleasant face that brightened when she smiled, and some sort spark in her spirit that reminded Topher of those cheerleaders he went to high school with.

“Do you have a reservation here at The Bay Hotel?” she asked.

Topher took off his sunglasses and hung it on his shirt as he leaned an elbow on the desk. The moment of recognition that Mandy had was clear as day when her eyes went wide. Meanwhile, the man beside her—someone named Bruce, who looked like his name with his burly build—narrowed his eyes as he tried to place him.

“Actually, I don’t,” Topher replied with a sorry look. “But I’d like to book a long-term stay here in your best room.”

“A long-term stay?” Mandy repeated, trying her best to maintain her professionalism even when she was clearly starstruck.

“Yes. You do offer those, right? I’m willing to pay cash right now for, like, a month’s worth, or maybe more.” Topher opened his bag that was full of cash and took out a few large bills to place on the table.

Mandy looked down at the money, clearly impressed but then she suddenly looked troubled. “I’m sorry, Mr. S—uh, sir, but I cannot approve a long-term stay. I can only accept up to a week maximum, since those that want to extend have file a request that has to be approved by our manager,” she explained apologetically.

“Come on, I’m sure there’s something you can do, right, Mandy?” Topher asked, putting on his best pitiful face that had gotten him many favors in the past. He wasn’t feeling as charming as he usually would, especially with the sweat dripping down his neck and his hair looking hideous, but he knew there was nothing that a pout and a nice choice of words couldn’t do. But he was wrong.

“I’m sorry, sir,” Mandy replied, looking really regretful about what she was saying, “but as I said, only our manager can extend your stay.”

With the tiredness that the long day had brought upon him and the stressful car ride on the way to the hotel, Topher could feel another level of his patience get axed off. “Then can I book one room for one week, then another room in advance for the next week?”

“I’m afraid we’re fully booked for next week because of the festival,” Mandy responded, taking away yet another level of the man’s composure.

Topher continued to force a polite smile on his face, even though a corner of his lip was already twitching. “Can I speak to your manager, then?”

The look on Mandy’s face made it clear to Topher that he wouldn’t like what she’s about to say next. “I’m afraid he’s out right now, but he will be back later tonight.”

That was the last straw for Topher. No matter how sound the front desk agent’s arguments were, or how irrational he knew he was being, he was irritated with everything around him, his situation, his seemingly useless friend, and how poorly he found the management in the so-called hotel was. If he were back in the city, he could’ve gotten his way. In fact, if he were anywhere else except that god-forsaken place, he’d probably have no problems and he’d be lying in a king-sized bed inside the presidential suite. He was tired, he was feeling hot, he was stressed out, and before he could stop himself, he was raising his voice as he said, “Are you f*****g kidding me? What kind of customer service is this? Don’t you know who I am?”

Mandy and Bruce were both taken aback, with the woman taking most of the heat. After being on the receiving end of such a statement, her lower lip quivered a little and her face contorted as if she was trying not to cry. “I-I’m sorry, sir,” she managed to let out. Bruce, who had been watching the exchange, stepped forward to stand by her side.

“As she has said before, there’s nothing we can do about extending your stay,” he firmly stated, standing taller to make himself look bigger and more threatening.

Instant regret flooded Topher as he realized he just had an outburst. As much as possible, he had tried not to be one of those privileged assholes, but it seemed like he had just been one at that moment when denied special treatment. He ran his fingers through his hair in exasperation, which only led him to become even more agitated at the fact that he had just messed up his already volumized hair. “Sorry,” he sighed. “Sorry, I’ll just, I’ll take the room for one week.”

Bruce took the money from the surface and placed a key card in replacement, all the while giving him a stone-cold glare. Topher picked up the card, looked at the woman like he wanted to apologize again, but then just walked away — scared that he might only say something that could make things worse if he opened his mouth once more.

Seeing that his room number was 304, he proceeded up the stairs with his bag of money, and searched for his door. What awaited him on the other side was pretty much what he expected, especially after that scene he just caused—a small room with a single bed and a small bathroom. There wasn’t even a fridge or a tub, just an electric kettle, a bottle of water, and some complimentary tea and packets of instant coffee.

This was it. This was karma biting him in the ass, he thought.

What he needed was to rest. He needed to a good nap to clear his mind so he could then think of his next step; maybe refill his charm so he could ask for and get a nicer room when he wakes up.

So, Topher placed his bag inside the small closet, turned up the air conditioning, removed his clothes until he was left in his boxers and socks, and just let himself fall on the bed face-down. At least, he thought as he closed his eyes, the sheets smelled clean and nice, like fabric conditioner. With that last thing in his mind, he went to sleep.

He had barely begun to dream when all of a sudden, he was awoken by a knock on the door. By the time his mind had caught up with reality to realize that he had failed to put on the Do Not Disturb sign, the chime of a key card being accepted sounded, and the door opened.

Topher didn’t bother to cover up even when he was barely clothed. He simply turned his head to face the entrance, still lying on his stomach, and groggily watched as the lean, black-haired bellhop called James entered his room with his bags. Topher glanced at the clock on the wall, taking note that it had been two hours since his arrival in the hotel, and yet it was only then that his bags were being delivered. He was unsure how things worked in the town he’s in, but he was pretty sure that this could be considered as subpar customer service.

“Just put them anywhere. There’s a bunch of cash in my coat pocket, so just take it all, thanks,” he said as James pulled in the last of the three bags into the room. His eyes began to flutter close to resume his interrupted sleep, when all of a sudden, he heard a, “Who the hell do you think you are?”

That was not the kind of response he was expecting. A grateful “thank you, sir,” was more of what he thought he’d hear, especially since there was quite an amount of money in his coat. His eyes opened as he looked at James with confusion, only then noticing that the man looked like he was properly pissed off. The bellhop’s face was actually turning red with anger.

“Yelling at Mandy like that,” James resumed. “We do not tolerate that kind of behavior from guests or staff alike!”

Topher’s confusion only grew. Was a bellhop really yelling at him or was he still asleep and dreaming? “What is—”

James stood there indignantly with his hands on his hips. “Just because you’re some kind of foreigner from whichever fancy city you came from, doesn’t give you the right to act like you’re above anyone else. Money and designer bags don’t make you a better person. Actually being a good person does.”

Topher pushed himself up to sit, feeling offended at what the man—who did not even personally know him—was insinuating about his character. “I am a good person!” he argued back like a child.

“You’re lucky that Mandy doesn’t want to do anything about it, when she could have easily kicked you out.” James opened the door, but before he left, he looked back and pointed a finger at Topher. “Apologize properly tomorrow or I’ll have you looking for another place to stay.” With that, he shut the door close behind him, leaving Topher in a state of disbelief over what just happened.