Yeet I changed the name from How To Find Love to Posh because I started to write HTFL but it was too similar to my last oneshot so I threw it out. This ones definitely unique, I'll say that. + there's an important message at the end.
My parents always knew everything. How to make a lot of money, how to marry for money and how to spend money. It was what they were best at, and they passed that along to me. I didn't know there was anything other than that in this world. But now things are a little different.
Nothing my mother or father told me could've ever prepared me for the onslaught of pain and joy that greeted me the day I stepped into Holiday Stars Hotel.
-
"Father! I want the biggest suite they have! And a pool all to myself!" I whined loudly, stomping my foot. My father in his salt and pepper haired glory gave me a forced smile.
"Of course, son. Is there anything else you desire?" He gulped, motioning for the bellhop to stop our trolley.
I thought for a moment. "I want the cutest assistants. Oh, and of course, an ice cream buffet."
"Anything for you."
"Everything for me." I smiled, fixing the collar on my button up and readjusting the red tie. "When will Mother be here?"
"Tomorrow, son."
Huffing, I looked around the foyer. The walls were pristine white, matching the crystal tiles beneath my perfectly shined shoes. A large, delicate chandelier hung from the mosaic ceiling. It was fine, not the best hotel I had been to, but it would do.
"Father, I want my room key, now. I need rest," I told him, hands hovering over my hips. I did not want to get my new suit dirty, not when we just got here.
"Of course, I'll talk to the desk right away."
"Quickly now," I ordered, tapping my foot impatiently. Father scurried away, up to the front desk, his hands moving quickly as he talked to the lady that sat there. She pulled down her spectacles and raised an eyebrow, saying something back to him. A wallet was pulled out, and a thick wad of cash was laid on the counter top. The lady smiled and dug around in the desk before handing my father a small envelope. He smiled at her and walked quickly back to me.
"That took way too long, Father," I said, turning up my nose but taking the envelope. "What's the suite number?"
"Father got you the penthouse suite." He smiled. "Is that good for you?"
I hugged. "It will... suffice, I guess."
I turned sharply on my heel and addressed the assistant that was standing next to the trolley, talking to the bellhop. "Excuse me?"
"Yeah?" He said.
"The green bags are all mine. I need them taken up to the penthouse suite for me," I said, throwing in a fake smile. Seeing as I was the most charming person I knew, I was surprised when the assistant raised an eyebrow.
"Pardon?" His hazel eyes looked annoyed.
"My bags. Upstairs," I stated, motioning towards the trolley. "Or are you retarted? Do I need to spell it out?"
(I never use that word but forgive me for the sake of the story)
He looked absolutely flabbergasted. "I'm not someone you just order around! Get your head out of your posh, sissy, rich-"
