EXTRAVAGANZA?

I choked on my own spit and woke up with a start, my heart racing. For a split second, I thought I was a goner...just kidding, I'm not that dramatic! But seriously, as I bolted upright, I realized I wasn't in my cramped bedroom, surrounded by posters of my favorite bands and the faint smell of old socks. Nope, I was lounging in a king-sized bed, swathed in the softest, warmest, and fuzziest blue silk sleeping garments I'd ever felt. It was like being wrapped in a cloud, and I couldn't contain the squeal of delight that escaped my lips.

As I looked around, I realized I was in a room that was straight out of a billionaire's playbook. The walls were painted a rich, creamy white, the furniture was a warm, sun-kissed peach, and the accents were a deep, luxurious beige. It was like my three favorite colors had come together to create a space that was both elegant and cozy. The room was enormous, with a tiny library in one corner, a gaming station with a zombie-themed video game, and even a fridge!

But amidst all this awesomeness, I had a pressing concern - had my wish actually come true? Sukani's three-minute rule was still fresh in my mind, and I needed to find a clock to confirm that time was indeed on my side. I scanned the room frantically, but there wasn't a clock in sight. Talk about torture!

I let out a frustrated groan, my eyes scanning the lavish room for what felt like the hundredth time, searching for a clock that seemed to be nowhere in sight. "What time is it?!" I yelled, my voice echoing off the high ceiling.

Suddenly, a smooth, unfamiliar female voice responded, "It's 7:34 a.m., sir." I jumped, my heart skipping a beat. "Who said that?!" I asked, my eyes darting around the room, trying to locate the source of the voice.

"I'm Ann, your personal assistant," the voice replied, sounding like a futuristic AI from a sci-fi movie. I felt a surge of excitement, my heart melting like butter in a hot pan. I couldn't believe it - a personal assistant, just like the rich kids in the movies!

"Ann, what do you do?" I asked, my curiosity getting the better of me. "I manage your schedule, wake-up calls, bath temperature, and basically control everything in this house, young sir!" she replied, her tone efficient and professional. "Don't tell me you forgot again?"

I couldn't help but laugh, feeling like the luckiest teenager alive. My wish had come true, and I was living the dream! I took a moment to absorb the grandeur of my new surroundings, the room stretching out before me like a luxurious oasis. It was bigger than my old house, and I couldn't wait to explore every inch of it. "Wow!" I exclaimed, grinning from ear to ear.

I was still gawking at the magnificent room, my mind reeling from the sheer awesomeness of it all, when a deep, refined voice cut through my daydreaming. "Good morning, young sir." I spun around, my eyes widening as a tall, dashing Englishman emerged from nowhere, looking like he just stepped out of a luxury car commercial. His impeccable suit, complete with a crisp white shirt and a black tie, screamed "butler" louder than a neon sign. I was gobsmacked, my brain struggling to process this sudden development. Was this guy...my own personal butler?!

My mind raced as I frantically tried to recall every movie and TV show I'd ever seen featuring butlers. Steward, Charlie, Williams - those were the usual names, right? I had to choose one, and fast, before this fancy butler thought I was a total weirdo. "YES...YES, WILLIAMS?" I ventured, my voice squeaking slightly as I closed my eyes and prayed I'd made the right call.

The butler's expression remained impassive, but a hint of a smile played on his lips.

"Breakfast is ready, young sir," he announced, his voice as smooth as butter.

I sighed, so he was a Williams!

"Should I have it brought here or would you prefer to dine downstairs?" He raised an eyebrow, his expression a perfect blend of politeness and professionalism.

I nodded eagerly, my stomach growling at the mention of food. "I'll come downstairs!" I replied, my voice a little too sharp, like a excited puppy.

Williams nodded graciously, his eyes crinkling at the corners. Then, to my utter surprise, he clapped his hands twice in the air, like a conductor summoning his orchestra. I stared at him, my eyes wide with disbelief, as a team of servants materialized out of nowhere, descending upon my room like a well-oiled machine.

Some of them scurried to make my bed, tucking in the sheets with military precision. Others busied themselves in the bathroom, filling the tub with steaming hot water and arranging a dizzying array of toiletries on the counter. And then, there were the ones who approached me, their eyes fixed on me with an unnerving intensity, as if I was some kind of exotic animal that needed to be groomed.

I watched in shock, my mind reeling with the sheer scale of it all. "Whoa, whoa, whoa!" I protested, holding up my hands in a futile attempt to stem the tide. "I can take it from here, guys. No way you're bathing me! I'm not some kind of helpless prince or something!"

"But sir!" Williams approached me, his voice laced with a hint of surprise, "why not? We do this every day!" His eyes sparkled with a knowing glint.

My jaw dropped, my eyes wide with disbelief. "We? Every day?!" I repeated, my voice tanged with horror. I shut my eyes in frustration and pain.

Fuck you Sukani!

I had wished for wealth and luxury, not to be treated like the popular 14 year old naked model everyday.

After a heated argument, I finally managed to convince the team of servants that I could handle my own bathing and grooming. But they still lingered outside the bathroom door, waiting to pounce on me like a team of stylist ninjas. As soon as I came out they pounced upon me, subjecting me to a marathon of dressing and primping.

When the ordeal finally ended, I gazed into the mirror, barely recognizing the reflection staring back at me. My hair was styled to perfection, my chiseled facial features more pronounced, and my blue eyes sparkled like diamonds. I wore a sleek, million-dollar wristwatch and a crisp shirt and pants, looking like a miniature James Bond.

After everything, the first thing I could say was, "So, we do this every morning before breakfast?" I asked Williams, my voice laced with disbelief. I mean, seriously, all this fuss before coffee?

Williams chuckled, his eyes crinkling at the corners. "Young sir, are you quite all right?" he asked. I nodded mutely, not wanting to arouse his suspicion. I was still trying to wrap my head around this surreal new reality.

"So, breakfast?" I ventured, my stomach growling with hunger. Williams smiled and gestured for me to follow him. We glided down the stunning double golden staircase, its intricate carvings glinting in the morning light. I was mesmerized, my eyes fixed on the majestic sight. It was the most beautiful staircase I'd ever seen, even in movies.

The right staircase led to the dining area, while the left one led to...I don't even know but who fucking cares?I was too busy feeding my eyes on the beautiful dining table. Made of gleaming ceramic, it seated twelve, leaving me wondering why we needed such a massive table for just three people. But again, who fucking cares?!

Seeing all this got me wondering how the dishes would be like. Even though I hated most of the cardboard tasted rich food in the school cafeteria. I was thinking perhaps the dishes I'd see on the table would have been different, let's say:a decadent spread of pudding, freshly baked bread, a whole pig fucking GRILLED! maybe juicy chicken and some steak? Icecream, chocolates, fruits, salads of all kinds, crispy fries, burgers, maybe some vodka? Because like yeah that's what people that have money should actually eat I'm I right?

But as I approached the dining table, my eyes widened in disbelief. Instead of the decadent spread I'd imagined, I saw a stark, minimalist arrangement that looked more like a museum exhibit than a meal. Lean meats were wrapped in dry, hard pastries that seemed to suffocate the flavor, while various teas sat in glass jugs, their delicate aromas overpowered by the scent of...baby urine? Yeah, that's what it smelled like. The air was thick with the stench of poached eggs and scrambled eggs, probably fried in sunflower oil, which only added to the unpleasant aroma.

The table was filled with small, triangular sandwiches, devoid of any sauce or flavor, and veggies of all kinds, displayed in see-through dishes like they were some sort of exotic specimens. I mean, seriously, veggies? Was I a goat or something? The whole setup looked like a sad, healthy buffet. It didn't smell like my tiny kitchen island, or of cookies and sweat.