MY OBSESSED ALIEN KING

THE HOTEL JOB

# CHAPTER 3

ZOE POV

Cardi answered that Immanuel hadn't come back from school yet, which was strange, since school let out an hour ago. I just hoped that kid wasn't out causing trouble we already had enough on our plate without an extra problem.

Meanwhile, I pulled out my old phone and switched on the Wi-Fi, moving closer to the window so I could connect to my neighbor's network kind of hacked into his interface, and now I get free internet whenever I want. Don't give me that look; my neighbor is a young bachelor with a decent job, and I'm pretty sure paying for Wi-Fi is the least of his problems. Besides, he's been hitting on me, so yeah, you know, in short, forget it, whatever.

Turning back to Cardi, I asked if they'd stopped fumigating the streets, since it had been a while since our house was last done. I scratched at a fresh bite the bed bugs were getting worse. f**k, we needed to do something before those bugs finished us off. Because we couldn't afford to fumigate on our own, whenever the street did it, we left all our doors and windows wide open another free lunch. 😏😏

Just then, the door groaned softly, announcing someone's arrival my brother. He walked into the little room, looked at the noodles in my bowl, and pulled a face. "So you guys are eating noodles while I've been starving all day?"

Cardi snapped at him, telling him there were leftovers in the kitchen. Instead of saying thanks, he dropped his bag, undid a few buttons on his shirt, and headed for the kitchen. I stopped him before he got far.

"What took you so long to get back?" I asked.

He grumbled something under his breath and kept walking. I let it go —

didn't feel like dragging it out.

A few minutes later, my parents walked in. Mom looked exhausted; she has naturally light skin, but years of toiling had dulled it. Dad looked twenty years older than he should. Just seeing them like that made tears well up in my eyes I wished my family didn't have to go through any of this. I only snapped out of it when I heard Mom scolding Cardi for not doing the dishes. I quickly corrected her that was Immanuel's job. Dad ignored all of it and went to shower, while Cardi and Immanuel started arguing, which escalated into an actual physical fight. I already knew Cardi would win; she's four or five years older than him.

I left them to it and walked out to the small but tidy backyard, where Mom sat cutting pumpkin leaves for melon soup my favorite. I crouched beside her and asked if she needed help. She looked at me, smiled, and asked softly how my day at work had gone. I asked about sales instead. She sighed quietly, the kind of sigh that meant "same as always." I held her hand. Just then, Dad walked into the backyard and asked if she needed his help. She scolded him, not seriously, saying, "You left to bathe and now you're back asking?" I slipped away quietly to give them their moment, shooting Dad a look that said he was hopelessly in love.

I walked back inside, passing Cardi and Immanuel, still fighting honestly, that's on Dad for teaching them combat. I walked in on a startled Jenna, who quickly covered herself, but I caught sight of a small bruise on her lower back.

"You okay?" I asked calmly.

"I'm fine," she said sharply not like Jenna at all.

She's my older sister: dark-skinned, short, with a curvy figure, a pointed nose, and the biggest, roundest eyes I've ever seen. Soft cheeks, a nice smile, and honestly, the only reason I smile the way I do is because of her she has this natural gap tooth that makes her grin contagious. She's the sweetest person to me calm, gentle, soft-hearted and I knew immediately something was wrong.

I didn't let it go. "Are you sure you're okay?"

"Yes," she said again, calmer this time.

I told her seriously, "We're poor, not weak. If anyone's bullying you, tell me. I'll stand up for you." She gave me a weak smile and looked like she was about to say something else when Mom called us both for dinner. We all sat in a circle on the living room floor.

Mom had made melon soup with ground wheat, and the smell filled the whole house melon, crayfish, oil, a little meat, and vegetables for balance. We prayed before eating, a tradition my mom refuses to drop, and honestly, I don't mind it. Over dinner, Dad complained about how stressful his job was getting, having to open the gate over and over, while Mom teased him for being lazy. Immanuel jumped to his defense: "No, no, no a retired soldier can't be lazy!" I told him to be quiet and just try coming home early tomorrow for once.

"Anytime you start eating, your brain works faster, foodie," I added, which sent the whole family into laughter except Jenna, who clearly had something on her mind, and Immanuel, who didn't like my comment but couldn't argue since I'm older.

Standing up, I thanked my parents for the meal. Dad asked if I was heading to my night shift. I told him yes Jenna still needed money for registration. She's been home for five years since finishing school, unable to afford it, and I was determined to help her this time.

Forty-five minutes later, I arrived at the hotel where I work nights the only big hotel in Lower Tropicana. I got the job just yesterday and started today, since jobs are nearly impossible to find now that most robots are far more advanced than humans, without our limitations. Luckily, my friend Gift sent me a link saying they were hiring, and here I am.

Walking into the dimly lit hallway, a woman in white asked if I was new staff. I said yes, and she led me to the staff changing room, handing me a white shirt and a short black skirt. Inside, about five other girls were changing in a rush, one of them complaining loudly about being late. I slipped out of my floral dress and pulled on the white shirt first tight across my chest, loose everywhere else, thanks to my full chest. Then I put on the skirt, which I swear wasn't this short on the rack, but on me it felt way tighter. I do have a naturally good figure, so the outfit made that pretty obvious. While pulling on the black socks, I found myself wondering why we had to dress this provocative just to serve food but my thoughts got cut off by a girl on her phone, squealing in delight.

"Guess what Kael is going live tomorrow!"

I had no idea who Kael was apparently some painfully handsome man who works for Neon King. And Neon King? The richest man on the entire planet, with wealth on a level that doesn't even make sense. Growing up, we always heard there were tons of diamonds in space, but humans never had the resources to mine them, let alone transport them back. Then, out of nowhere, this man — Neon King — figured it out. Not just diamonds, either, but raw materials that completely revolutionized science. Some people say the presidents of the world are basically ceremonial now, that he's the real one running things. The strangest part is, no one has ever actually seen his face. Whenever he needs to say something, this gorgeous guy with blue hair and the most striking eyes I've ever seen goes live in his place. Like that time a massive flood hit Russia and wiped out one of his underground warehouses — according to him, it was caused by ocean pollution, so he sent Kael out to broadcast a warning to world leaders to make sure it never happened again.

My thoughts got cut off by a woman in her forties telling us to get moving. We filed into the kitchen in a line, picking up client orders from the chef. When it was my turn, I was sent to Room 036 with a tray of red wine. Steadying it, I walked in, hips swaying behind me, and knocked. A deep voice told me to come in, so I did.

What met me was a tall, well-built man, shirtless, sitting on the sofa, abs on full display — the only turn-off being that he was clearly old. Whatever, not my problem, I'm just here to serve and go. As I poured the wine, he grabbed my wrist, a sinister look crossing his face.

"You girls are even better than the robots," he said smugly, then spanked me.

I yelped on instinct and swung, landing a hit straight across his face. He stumbled back, groaning, and I snapped at him: "Don't mess with me, old man. My dad's a retired army captain — f**k you."

With that, I stormed out — but not before doubling back to his wardrobe, grabbing some cash, and tucking it into my bra. Then I really stormed out. You know what? f**k this job.