Ah, there she was again today; sitting at a table near the full windows, illuminated by the bright mid-day sun. Her wine-coloured hair stood out even more, shining a stunning maroon despite being pulled up into a messy bun. The myriad of star tattoos on her left arm and the blue china flowers down her back were a fresh sight among the crowd of smartly dressed diners. Most of them were also in casual clothing, but her slit back tank top and shorts made her stick out like a sore thumb.
The patrons at nearby tables glanced at her every once in a while, taking in her hair and tattoos. They’d probably write her off as another passing tourist, with a bit more money on her hands to be staying at such a prestigious hotel and not a simple bed-and-breakfast hostel, where people of her ‘type’ were more common. Some passing guests with young ones among them hurried along, very obviously trying not to stare and attempting to keep their children from laying eyes on the girl they deemed to be an example of ‘bad influence’. Once in a while a child would exclaim in wonder and excitement at the vividness of her, in which if the child’s parents hadn’t yet hushed them and walked off, she would respond with a bright grin and a polite little bow.
The staff also often found themselves glancing in her direction, for she was indeed a prominent contrast from the usual prim and proper. One waiter in particular, a boy named Marcel, had assigned himself to be the first to respond; having taken delight in her after many brief but lively conversations. As soon as he noticed her getting ready to leave, he brisked over and pleasantly inquired about her opinion of the day’s breakfast selections and, in a more familiar tone, how she was going to spend her day and if she was going to be back for lunch. She seemed to also enjoy his company, answering with the air of friendship and more than just polite smiles. If it weren’t for another patron needing seeing to, or a cough from the head waiter, the two would probably be in the same spot for a while, chatting about anything and everything.
She left the dining hall and passed through the lobby, where Ahmed, the young lobby attendant, wished her good-day. She politely bowed in thanks and wished him the same, a genuine smile on her face. He watched as she exited the hotel through the revolving doors, wishing the old doorman an equally bright day. It was rare to see a guest who bothered exchanging pleasantries with the staff, let alone be genuinely interested in the replies. But there she was, a one of a kind radiance.
He couldn’t help but have the feeling however, that her considerate mannerisms were a front, concealing something about her. Often a time he would notice her staring into the distance, but also seemingly focused on something; something apparently no one else was looking at. And her face, bright and smiling, would very very briefly flicker to discomfort. He had noticed it since the day they met, this… tick of hers. He wasn’t sure if anyone else noticed, for her bright eyes and smile could immediately make the person she was talking to forget that something like that ever even happened. But then again, who was he to be bothered about such a thing? He already had enough guests to look out for, and as curiously striking as she was, she would eventually check out and possibly not return just like some. And he would still be here, doing his job, and maybe someday inherit the title of concierge; still attending to the many guests that come through those doors.