Frostbites

"Ahhhhh!" Jack jolted upright, heart pounding as his room slowly came into focus.

"The same damn nightmare," he muttered, rubbing his temples, trying to shake off the lingering images.

With a deep breath, he stood up, surveying the mess in his room. He began to tidy up, picking up the scattered cigarette butts and depositing them into the white plastic bag. The room still looking chaotic, but at least it was a start.

He made his way to the bathroom, the worn-out white tiles a clear reminder of years of neglect and lack of maintenance. He stood in the shower for almost twenty minutes as if to wash away the nightmare.

Walking out, he slipped on a crisp white shirt with Vue Hotels embroided in bold blue letters, pairing it with black trousers—as he made preparations for another day in the grind, as people called it.

Stepping out into the bright sunlight, he was greeted by the familiar sights and sounds of people walking on the streets. Children laughed and played by the side, while men and women hurried to their respective jobs.

He stopped at the metro station—a sleek, modern structure that stood in stark contrast to the surrounding decay.

Collecting his ticket from the cashier, he joined the queue of people waiting to board the train. Before long, a sleek, light blue maglev train glided to a stop on the tracks, its doors sliding open with a soft hiss.

The line began to thin as people made their way onto the train, and he followed suit, finding a seat and settling in for the ride to work.

___________________________

The train came to a stop it's doors sliding open, Jack stepped out onto the platform, joining the flow of commuters streaming towards the station exits. After a brief walk, he arrived at the familiar building, its sleek, thirty-story facade gleaming in the morning light. The words VUE HOTEL on the doors seemed to shimmer with a sense of luxury and sophistication.

As he approached the entrance, the doors slid open automatically, welcoming him into an opulent lobby. Jack exchanged greetings with his colleagues, who were busy attending to the morning stream of guests. He made his way to the underground parking lot, where his fellow valets were already prepping for the day.

As Jack entered the parking lot, Mark, one of his colleagues, looked him up and down before remarking, "Jack, you look like shit." Mark said, the others chuckling as their laughter echoed off the concrete walls. Jack shot Mark a wry smile "Haha, Mark" he replied as he sat down.

Mark tossed him a protein shake, which he caught mid-air. He screwed off the cap and downed the contents in one swift motion. "Thanks man, I owe you one," he said, feeling a surge of energy from the shake. Mark grinned, responding, "No shit."

Hours later as the sun's hue darkened and the day drew to a close, Jack joined the stream of workers heading out of the hotel, exhausted from another long day of valeting cars. The night shift workers began to trickle in, exchanging pleasantries with them as they took over the reins.

"Well, well, well. If it isn't Class Number one." a voice came from behind him. "Whatever happened to you?" Jack paused slowly turned around, his eyes narrowing as he took in the smug, self-satisfied expression on Levine's face. His glare intensified, his eyes blazing with unrestrained fury. If looks could kill, Levine would have been dead on the spot.

"Look, Levine," he growled, his voice low "I don't have the time, nor the strength, for this. Just leave me alone."

Levine's eyes sparkled with amusement as he took a step closer to Jack, his entourage of sycophants watching with disdain. "Come on, Number one, where's the camaraderie?" he taunted, his voice dripping with condescension.

Unable to contain his anger anymore, Jack swung his fist towards Levine, a rash mistake that would prove costly, as Levine caught his fist with ease, a smirk spreading across his face. "Got you," he said, his voice triumphant.

As if on cue, the hotel manager stormed out of the lobby, his expression shifting from irritation to something closer to nervousness as his gaze landed on Levine.

"Assaulting a customer, are we, Jack?" Levine asked, his voice smooth, almost lazy.

Jack clenched his jaw, trying to yank his fist free, but Levine held firm.

The manager's gaze bored into Jack, his expression annoyed. The others behind Levine snickered, one of them commenting, "Tsk, with such intelligence, how did he ever top us in class?"

Jack felt a wave of coldness slowly seeping into his skin, beginning from where Levine still held his hand. His breath hitched as a deep, unnatural chill slithered up his arm, spreading through his veins like ice.

The manager, Mr. Calloway, sighed heavily, running a hand through his thinning hair before looking shooting Jack an exasperated glare. "Jack," Calloway sighed, shaking his head. "I should've known you'd pull something like this eventually."

Jack's eyes flicked to him, disbelief along with frustration in them. "I didn't—"

"Enough," Calloway snapped, cutting him off with a dramatic wave of his hand. "You think you can bring your street thug mentality into this establishment? This is Vue Hotel, not some gutter dive where you can brawl like a common criminal!"

Jack gritted his teeth, but before he could argue, Calloway turned to Levine, his tone shifting in an instant.

"Young Master Levine, I sincerely apologize for this... unfortunate incident." His voice dripped with obvious endearment. "I can assure you that this behavior is not a reflection of our hotel's standards."

Levine arched a brow, clearly enjoying himself. "Oh, I know," he said, mockingly dusting off his sleeve as if Jack's mere attempt at a punch had dirtied him. "Still, I expect this to be dealt with accordingly, Manager Calloway. After all, you wouldn't want Vue Hotel's reputation tarnished by employing such... undesirables, would you?"

Calloway practically bowed. "Absolutely not, sir. Consider it handled."

He turned back to Jack, his face a mask of manufactured disappointment. "Jack, you're dismissed," he declared, his voice now cold and final. "Effective immediately."

Jack's face twisted, his expression filled with rage. "You're firing me?"

"What did you think would happen, Jack? That I'd give you a gold star and perhaps a pat on the back for assaulting a customer?" Calloway huffed, puffing out his chest in a poor imitation of authority. "And your severance will go to compensating Young Master Levine for his troubles."

Jack scoffed, barely able to hold back a bitter laugh. "Right. Because I'm sure he's struggling financially."

His teeth chattered involuntarily, as his knees buckled.

"You're lucky Young Master Levine is magnanimous and chose to drop this without suing." Calloway sneered, though there was the faintest quiver in his voice as he took a cautious step back from Levine himself.

Jack snorted, his teeth chattering from the cold. "Magnanimous? That's like saying the sun rises from the north."

Levine's eyes narrowed, his grip on Jack's hand tightening. The cold intensified, and Jack felt his body begin to tremble, kneeling he looked up at Levine, his eyes locked on his, as he said through chattering teeth, "Go on, magnanimous Young Master Levine."

Levine's gazed at Jack for a moment, and then he released his grip, turning his back on him as he walked into the hotel. He paused, looking back over his shoulder, and said, "You're unworthy of dying at my hands." As Jack watched him disappear into the hotel's opulent interior.

Jack watched as Levine disappeared into the hotel's entrance, his entourage laughing as they followed. The cold lingering in his veins made it difficult to move, but he refused to kneel any longer. With a deep breath, he forced himself upright, clenching his fists to bring warmth back to his fingers.

The streets stretched ahead, bathed in the glow of flickering streetlights. Jack's legs felt like lead, his breath still uneven from the lingering chill. He shoved his hands into his pockets, shoulders hunched as he started walking home.

Retracing the same route he had taken in the morning except this time he didn't take the train station. As he walked into his room, he felt a wave of exhaustion wash over him, and he slumped onto the bed, closing his eyes as sleep began to creep up on him.