"We have arrived." The sound of the chauffeur's voice followed by the gentle creak of the handbrake and the motion of the car pulling to a halt awoke Sasuke from his daydreaming. Long trips were tiring – thankfully, this one had only been a few hours long. And for the majority of those hours, he had wasted the time blaring the music from his iPod obnoxiously loudly into his ears, and carving absently at the door handle with a small pocket knife he always carried around with him. The only other passenger in the car, his brother, Itachi Uchiha, had given up on trying to dissuade him from his bored knifing of the interior of the car after receiving one of Sasuke's famous 'leave me the hell alone' glares. They burned. Pure poison. If looks could kill.
Shaking his head slightly to knock himself out of the trance he had fallen into whilst rhythmically cutting the car, Sasuke shoved the knife back into the pocket of his jeans and looked up, out of the window. 'Not bad', he had to admit. The exterior of the hotel was nice in the least – there were a dozen marble steps leading up to a carefully constructed and polished looking stone building. The front doors were glass and so well cleaned that they were totally transparent. Not one mark. The only giveaway was the reflection of the low-hanging sun's rays. It was getting late. The building was surrounded by perfectly manicured plants and flowers, with the occasional sculpted statue of animals, mostly lions, but Sasuke didn't linger long on the exterior of the place because he didn't appreciate art. Nor did he care. Hell, he would have cared if the place had been a dump – he'd have kicked up a fuss then – but the shiny five stars of the hotel 'La Maria' reassured him that it was up to his standards and so, that was the end of it.
Clicking the rough-edged (thanks to his knife) handle of the door, Sasuke watched as the door swung slowly open before confidently striding out of the vehicle. He left his door wide open and pointedly ignored the valet, and then the two men who came to collect the hordes of cases from the boot of their car. Instead, he opted to pull a crumpled packet of cigarettes out of his jeans pocket and light up in the middle of the courtyard. He looked out of place here. He knew it and he loved it. His black hoodie was taboo here; his scuffed converse and faded (and fading) black jeans were frowned upon; smoking was definitely a no-go here (cigars, perhaps, maybe, would have been accepted a little less harshly); the dark rings under his eyes, his permanent scowl, the slouched posture, his apathetic attitude towards everyone else – it all made him a blotch, a scar, a mark on an otherwise perfect picture. Itachi had long ago stopped trying to force the teenager into any semblance of order, he had given up on the kid, and instead shot him one of those ever so frequent 'I'm disappointed in you/you shouldn't be doing that' expressions and marched past him, luggage-laden hotel staff in tow. The valet had returned by now and approached Sasuke. He was young, nervous.
"Uh, sorry sir but, uh, you can't smoke here." Sasuke eyed him up and down.
"I know." He made no attempt to put the cigarette down or out. He slowly exhaled a cloud of smoke into the guy's face who, now, looked extremely awkward and put-off.
"Please put your cigarette out," the valet tried again, a little more force in his voice. But not too much. Because he was just a lowly valet, and the person stood before him was paying £700 per night to reside in the building before them. And if that person decided to leave the hotel in favour of elsewhere, because of this lowly valet, said lowly valet would definitely lose his job. Luckily for him, Sasuke evenly breathed a few more drags into the guy's face, eyes never once leaving the other's face, before dropping the cigarette onto the floor, crushing it with a battered converse and turning to stalk into the reception of the hotel after his brother and their luggage cases. Said brother was still standing before an immaculate desk, speaking to a blonde lady with a high ponytail and a haughty expression, obviously checking them in. Her fingers tapped away at a keyboard attached to a high-end flatscreen computer monitor. She hit the 'enter' key dramatically and turned in her chair to face Itachi.
"Rooms 355 and 357, floor 3, the corridor to the left. Enjoy your stay," and with that, she dropped two keys onto the marble countertop, her 'holier-than-thou' expression faltering for a second as her eyes fleetingly passed over Sasuke, who pointedly ignored her and followed Itachi as he swiped the keys and headed towards the elevator. Their luggage had already disappeared with the employees up a separate, exclusive elevator. The fifteen seconds in the secluded area, alone with his brother, as they zoomed upwards couldn't have passed any slower and Sasuke huffed with relief as the doors pinged open on the third floor, instantly scuffling across the red carpet in a beeline towards the corridor on the left. He kept on moving until he reached the door with the gold-plated, metal '355' fronting it. Itachi caught him up and slowly passed him the key for room 357. The next door along. He looked like he wanted to say something, but Sasuke didn't give him the chance to. Instead, he swiftly moved along and unlocked the door for the room he'd be inhabiting for the next few months as their house was renovated, moving inside and leaving the door open. The luggage people were already in the corridor and, after receiving orders from the older Uchiha, moved two of the bags into Itachi's room, one into Sasuke's and then departed with a 'ping' from the elevator.
It had only taken a few hours. A few hours to completely wreck the room he'd been given. The bed sheets were tangled and heaped on the floor; his luggage hadn't been 'unpacked' so much as opened and thrown around the room. Items of clothing hung over virtually every surface in the room and the floor was barely visible. Bottles of empty spirits and beer lined the windowsills and shelves like some kind of ghastly spectators. Empty and crumpled wrappers of junk food were stuck to the floor and there was a mountain of plates and cutlery (room service was godly) stacked in the corner of the room, oozing unfinished and decaying food. Sasuke himself was sprawled across the floor, surrounded by fallen bottles of beer and cigarette butts. And ash. If they wouldn't give him an ashtray, he'd use the damned carpet. The smoke alarm had already been accidentally set off twice, so now it was hanging from its wiring, like twisted guts, from the ceiling. Dead.
He snorted. Itachi would flip his lid when he saw this. Like he cared. Right now, he was completely smashed. Off his head. But he wasn't finished yet. It wasn't too late, and they worked long shifts anyway, so it wasn't hard to locate the awkward valet. It was even less of a challenge to persuade the guy that, despite his area of work being in no way related, it was necessary that he came to his hotel room and check the smoke alarm because he didn't think it was working and that was dangerous because what if there was a fire? The door clicked shut behind them and there was a frenzy of lips and hands, the sound of the muffled protests dying after barely a few seconds and being replaced by breathy gasps and moans.
Itachi awoke at 6am to the sound of the door to room 357 closing. He was a light sleeper. He reached the door in time to see the rapidly retreating back of someone who looked vaguely familiar, but not familiar enough to place them. He frowned and cracked open the door to 357 – carelessly left unlocked – and frowned in disgust as he was assaulted by the smell of sex, pizza and stale beer. He pushed the door open wider and stared in shock at the wreck of the room before him. He had known that Sasuke was getting worse but this? The boy in question was lying in a shameful state of undress in the centre of the floor, duvet twisted around him, legs splayed, surrounded by cigarette burns in the carpet and knocked over, leaking beer bottles. He exited the room, slamming the door shut behind him in annoyance, retreating back into his own room. It was time for a suitable punishment. One that would work.
"Sasuke," Itachi directly addressed the teenager sprawled at the table before him, carefully stirring his coffee. The guy smelt like a brewery – did he have no decency? "I have decided that actions need to be taken against your.. Attitude. I know that you know that the way you are behaving is completely unacceptable." Still, Sasuke paid him no attention. He never did. He never had – at least, not since..
"As you probably know, the valet that served us yesterday has been fired. Although I know not the exact reasons for his dismissal, I do know that the hotel is in need for a new member of staff. And, with you possessing no job, and having just finished school, and most likely having something to do with the dismissal of the valet, I put your name forward." Itachi paused, allowing this information a few moments to sink into the hungover Uchiha's brain. He sipped his coffee. "Of course, they accepted, especially when I told them that you'd happily work free of charge." That was a lie, Sasuke knew that his brother must have bribed the hotel to take him on board.
He wasn't happy.
"You start tomorrow – and you stay until we leave. Two months. No funny business."
"Why?" Sasuke snapped, managing to keep the majority of his anger under wraps. Under the table, his fists clenched. How could his brother do this to him? How could he, an Uchiha, be reduced to the level of the working class? He was better than this. He knew it, Itachi knew it, the whole damned world knew it. Like hell would he do this.
"I have already explained why. I feel it would be beneficial for you to learn to appreciate how easy your life is, and how hard it is for people who have to actually work for a living. You're spoilt." Sasuke ground his teeth but said nothing. There was no use wasting words on his brother – he had a different, and more fun, getaway plan. The hotel could fire him, couldn't they? Sasuke shrugged sharply in annoyance and acceptance, hand moving to the pocket of his jeans to fetch his cigarettes, before realising that they had been left, forgotten back upstairs in his room. He hissed in agitation as he heard someone approaching their table and come to a halt behind him. Turning in his seat, Sasuke found himself facing a blond guy wearing the deep red colours of the hotel uniform. He had one of the standard name badges on, the crimson blazer, the black trousers and shirt, the crimson tie and shiny black shoes. His blond hair was unruly and badly tamed; his face was plastered with a stupid, stupid wide grin. Blue eyes met Sasuke's black ones and the guy grinned wider. He couldn't be more than a few years older than himself.
"Hello, Sasuke. I'm Naruto, assistant manager. I look forward to working with you," he said politely, sticking a hand out in an offered shake. Sasuke rolled his eyes and turned back around in his chair. The next few days were going to be hell.