We all headed towards the dining hall, where lunch was arranged for us. All of our luggage was being carried away by the concierge on their golden trolleys.
Lunch was a light but warm. The table was spread with potato soup, thick meat stew, garlic bread sticks cheese fondue and some hot chocolate in a thermal flask for us to enjoy. Plates were arranged with all cutlery on the side, with a neatly folded flower shaped napkin. We all sat down to eat.
I unfolded my napkin, took some soup, bread sticks and began to dig in. The journey had really made us hungry.
'Has he eaten anything yet?'
A parasitic thought crept up in my mind, I was thinking that since it was a longer journey for him, he must be starving. With thoughts running in my mind, I picked a spoonful of soup and put it to my mouth,
"Aaahhhh!" I screamed, spitting the contents into a cup next to my plate and gobbled down a whole glass of water.
It was burning. It scalded my tongue.
'Any time I think good for him, something goes wrong.'
"Are you okay?" Samantha asked, offering me a tissue.
Samantha was from the props department. She had pale skin, curly blond hair, that she had tied into a pony today, and a heavy-visual weight face, making her very noticeable. She was also very kind and proactive when it comes to caring for us.
"Yes," I said, fanning my mouth with my hands.
For the rest of the lunch, I could only feel the texture of rough tongue and not much taste.
Everything was going well, until it wasn't.
"Dean," Sarah said, "pass me the salt please."
Dean, a best friend of Kathy, and her junior, looked at Kathy, who blinked her eyes hard.
He was tough and muscular, had golden hair and green eyes, that sparked with naivety at all times. Of course, he wouldn't do anything without Kathy's permission.
He looked away from Sarah and continued eating.
"Dean, PLEASE pass me the salt," she iterated again, this time emphasizing on the please.
'Did the salt have to be near Kathy? Couldn't it be someone else?'
I looked up and saw the tension looming at the table. Sarah had gripped her fork hard, held upwards as if she was waiting for a go signal and would stab Dean or something.
To add fuel to the fire, Kathy nudged Sally to pass her the pepper, which was near Sarah.
Sally was petite, had glasses on, hair tied into a braid with slightly tan skin and light makeup. She had large eyes that oozed innocence.
Sally had no choice. She hovered over Dean, picking the pepper from near Sarah and handing it to her.
I was watching all of this unfold, holding my spoon midair while my soup solidified into a block.
Something was about to go down.
But it's not like they're a bunch of kids who I can stop from fighting by distracting them with candy. These were adults with beef.
"CAN'T YOU F*CKING HEAR ME DEAN?" Sarah burst out at Dean, yelling at the top of her voice.
Everyone now turned around to look at us, all eyes on our table.
"IT'S SO F*CKING CLOSE, CAN'T YOU PICK IT YOURSELF?" Kathy stood up and screamed at her, "you really want it huh?" She said, as she opened the lid of the salt shaker.
No way.
Impossible.
Yes way.
Very Possible.
She dumped the entire shaker onto her head, with her head and face covered in salt.
But Sarah wasn't someone to back down either. She picked up the bowl of soup and threw it at Kathy's face, covering her in sticky broth and vegetables.
None of us knew what to do, we continued nibbling tiny bites.
Dean suddenly stood up, "you can't treat Kathy like that," he said, as he picked a glass of water and threw it at Sarah. She looked shook, her eyes widened.
Sally also got up and started throwing stuff. This was followed by Nathan trying to intervene but getting hit with chocolate on his face and his hair being pulled, Lee trying to stop them but being bathed in stew, being hit with spoons.
The entire table had spiraled into chaos and everyone spectating the mess.
Since I was a little far away, I took out my phone and took a clip, sending it to Margie hoping she would send some help.
If it were a scene, I would play the clip in slow-mo with blue danube in the background. It was that comical.
Ding!
Margie sent me a message, "please take care of them," she sent, without even a period.
Yeah sure, take care!
I walked across the table to the scene and tried to break it off between Sally and Kathy, who were now covered in stew, soup and chocolate, and their hair damp but upright. I pulled both of them, trying to get them away, but was splashed by a glass of wine. By both each.
"YOU WERE THE REASON FOR THIS! F*CK OFF!" They both screamed in harmony.
'Guess I'll go f*ck myself then.'
I threw a hesitant smile and threw my hands in forfeit. I walked out of the scene, without looking back once. Samantha, now terrified, followed me.
I rushed to my room and got into a hot shower, draining off all the drama I witnessed. I put on a thick velvet robe and walked out, putting on the lamp lights. It was sunset time, and a sharp chill was breezing through the window.
My body was trembling because of the dropping temperature. I ran to the window balcony while rubbing my hands and blowing steam into them to enjoy the view before closing for this messy day.
The mountains were like silhouettes, with tiny star like lights shining through. Clouds covered the peak, and the sky was dark purple in color. I sighed out loud.
I rested my arms on the railing, which was made of metal and super cold, but the thoughts that followed after dimmed the chill passing through my body, ironically warming me up from within.
Why should I always obey Margie?
Wasn't I just a play writer? She has literally turned me into a babysitter.
Once she returns I'll tell her I'll only be a writer henceforth, nothing more.
HONK!
A sharp horn cut through everything I had build on.
What does the driver even want?
I bent over and looked down. A convertible red Bentley had graced the entrance of the humble resort. It's surface, glazed like a mirror was reflecting all the street lights, making it seem embellished. Even standing so high upstairs, I could tell it was brand new, straight from the showroom.
The doors flung open a familiar figure walked out, sheer green shirt and the straw hat.
Yep. It was Ben.
As suspected, he's dirty rich. A conglomerate heir even.
What would it take for me to be embedded into that kind of scenario? Why do I have to wag my tail to Margie and live in the run-down excuse of a house?
Life isn't fair to some.
As he walked towards the entrance, he threw the keys to the valet guard and stood there, waiting for the concierge. The cold was bearing onto him, as he was slouching and his lips shivering from the wind.
'Serves him right! If he was not to cocky, I'd have told him to dress properly.'
He had turned pale, and even slumped down now.
Oh well, I mean ain't that cruel. I quickly ran to the chair and picked up the uniform jacket, and threw it at him. It landed right next to him.
"Hey! Who was that?" He shouted.
Before he could see it was me, I jumped inside and shut the window, throwing the curtains on. I ran to my bed and lay down.
"Thanks!" I heard a soft murmur through the heavy curtains.