Rooms verse (roomsverse) wrote in rooms, @ 2014-10-24 21:00:00 |
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Wherever they were, the hotel lured them in, and they had no thought of resisting. Out of their doors and into the lobby, but the lobby wasn't a lobby at all, not that night. It was a restaurant, Old elegance with a 1930s feel. The sign on the host's stand specified that formal attire was required, and our guests found themselves appropriately garbed regardless of their station or lot in life. Names weren't required; the hotel had RSVPed, and the hosts led guests up the winding staircase, past the champagne bar and the martini bar, past the boudoirs, and into a waiting room filled with plush chairs and surrounded by curtained booths. The curtains were pulled aside with flourish, and all the booths were curved and comfortable, made for two guests or more. Hosts would seat newcomers in vacated spaces throughout the evening, or guests could wander into booths with drawn-back curtains on their own. Regardless of location, regardless of booth or bar or boudoir, the drink menu that belonged to each guest would be available, their lists numbered and waiting, and their beverages set before them. The drinks themselves tasted different for everyone; Dark reds, pale whites, champagne, apple juice, gin or tonics, and experiences in every last one. And if selecting certain items on the menu just felt right, surely that was a coincidence. And if emotions lingered, surely that was just part of the experience. The hotel soothed nerves, obscured appearances and voices, and leaving wasn't a concern, and sharing names or claiming memories wasn't even desired. Once the guests arrived, the doors were gone until morning anyway. |