The grandeur of Hôtel de Lune Noire stretched upward like a dream carved into glass and marble. Its façade shimmered in the Parisian sunlight, windows glinting like watchful eyes over the bustling boulevard below. Rosalind adjusted the hem of her skirt nervously as she approached the towering entrance. The revolving doors seemed to mock her hesitation-spinning endlessly, waiting to pull her in whether she was ready or not.
Fresh out of college, her degree still folded neatly at the bottom of her luggage back at her small flat, Rosalind had thought this job would be simple-a temporary stop before she figured out her true direction. A five-star hotel was supposed to mean polished professionalism, guests who smiled and tipped, and days filled with the routine monotony of service. Yet, as soon as she stepped into the marble-floored lobby, she realized that nothing about this place was ordinary.
The chandelier that hung above her head glittered with thousands of crystal shards, scattering light like fragments of a captured sun. Bellhops in perfectly pressed uniforms wheeled gold-trimmed carts. The air smelled faintly of roses and expensive cologne. Rosalind swallowed hard, clutching the notepad she had been given during orientation.
"First day?" a tall receptionist asked kindly as she passed.
"Yes," Rosalind admitted, her voice small but steady.
"Don't worry. You'll do fine."
But the reassurance barely soothed the storm in her stomach.
By midday, Rosalind had completed simple tasks-arranging wine bottles in the cellar, shadowing another attendant as she delivered cocktails to laughing businessmen, and learning the subtle dance of disappearing into the background when luxury demanded invisibility. Still, nerves tugged at her every movement. She longed for a friendly face, someone who could steady her spiraling thoughts.
That evening, she found herself calling Amy.
Amy answered on the second ring, her voice bursting with warmth. "Hi Rosy! Tell me everything, how was your first day?"
Rosalind flopped onto her bed, the hotel's scent of roses still clinging to her hair. "Exhausting. Intimidating. It feels like stepping into another world. But... not entirely bad."
Amy chuckled. "See? I told you you'd manage. You always do."
They slipped into familiar chatter, Amy filling the silences with her effervescent laughter. But soon her tone shifted, lighter, almost glowing. "So, I've got news. I'm seeing someone. His name's Austin."
Rosalind smiled despite her exhaustion. Amy had a reputation-never staying with a man long enough for it to mean anything. Yet now, her best friend sounded almost... tender. "Austin? Tell me."
"He's different, Rosy. He listens, he makes me laugh, and-don't laugh-he actually makes me want to stay. I feel happy, and I haven't said that in a long time."
The sincerity in Amy's voice struck Rosalind. She teased gently, "Amy, the girl who swore off relationships longer than three weeks, is finally caught?"
"Don't ruin this moment," Amy retorted, giggling. "But yes. He might be the one."
Rosalind lay back, staring at the ceiling of her small rented room. For the first time all day, she felt warmth-not from the hotel's chandeliers or the polished smiles of strangers, but from the tether that anchored her to home.
Still, she couldn't shake the unease in her chest. She pushed it away, telling herself tomorrow would be smoother. But fate was already waiting in the corridors of Hôtel de Lune Noire, a silent shadow preparing to collide with her life in ways she couldn't yet imagine.
As the call ended, Amy's laughter still echoing in her ear, Rosalind curled beneath her blanket. Her heart was calmer now, but beneath the calm was something else: a trembling anticipation, a whisper that her life had just shifted, even if she didn't yet know why.
And so, the first day at the hotel came to a close-not with disaster, nor with triumph, but with a single unspoken promise: the world she knew was about to end.
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