Chapter Five: Staff Only

There was a hotel.
Five stars.

A lobby that guests photographed on arrival.

A concierge named Gerald who remembered not just your name but your preferred mineral water.

A fireplace that crackled from arrival to last orders.

Around the back, through a door marked Staff Only, was another world entirely.

Toilets that would not have looked out of place in a municipal carpark.

A window that remained permanently open regardless of season.

A portable heater in the corner.
Warming nobody sufficiently.

A kettle on the bench.

Bought by the team.

On their own account.

One coat hook.
Shared between eleven people.

Same hotel.
Same owner.

The brand standards document had never made it through that door.

The staff arrived each morning.

Hung up their coats.

And began their shift.

Then walked through the lobby.

And smiled.

This is where culture quietly breaks.

— Sun Maison