The orientation room was stark. Same white walls, cold air and rows of plastic chairs arranged before a large projection screen. Four uniformed guards stood silently at each corner of the room.The girls entered in silence, their footsteps hushed by the sterile floor.
The blue ribbon girls arrived first.
Without speaking, they took the rightmost column of chairs. Their movements were coordinated , like they had done this many times before. A few pink ribbon girls, unsure of where to sit, drifted toward the center column. Some were quietly motioned away by blue ribbon girls. A couple hesitated until a firm stare nudged them left.
The seating was now clear: blue to the right, pink to the left, and the middle section remained empty.
Nook took her seat in the front row among the pink ribbon girls. Most were around her age, seventeen to nineteen. Their expressions ranged from anxious to quietly excited. Across from them, the girls in blue ribbons looked older, ranging from early to late twenties. They carried themselves with a reserved calm, unmoved and unreachable. Their faces betrayed no emotion. It was as if feeling had long since been dismissed as a distraction.
A woman stepped to the front of the room. Her crimson uniform was flawless, her gold ribbon perfectly weaved into her slick ponytail. She held a clipboard close to her body, posture tight, expression unreadable. Everything about her felt practiced and deliberate.
Nook recognized her immediately. It was Miss Supatra, the same woman who had met her just yesterday when the recruiter first dropped her off at the hotel. She had shown Nook to her cubicle, handed her a folded uniform, and walked her through the rules with mechanical precision. Not once had she smiled.
Now, standing before a full room of girls, she looked exactly the same. Like she had been preserved overnight and placed back on display.
Miss Supatra introduced herself with clipped, clear English.
"Good morning, ladies. My name is Miss Supatra. Welcome to The Golden Orchid Luxury Hotel."
She paused just long enough for her eyes to scan the room.
"Founded in 1997, our company believes in luxury through perfection. Excellence through discipline. Our mission is to provide unforgettable experiences to our guests without them ever seeing the effort."
She spoke like someone who had memorized every syllable in her sleep.
She was tall and broad shouldered, with the commanding posture of someone used to being obeyed. Her features were sharp and striking, with high cheekbones and skin that caught the light in all the right places. There was nothing soft about her beauty. It was sculpted and unyielding, the kind that dared you to look too long.
The projection screen behind her came to life. Footage rolled: sweeping lobbies, crystal clear ocean views, staff in uniform moving in perfect sync as they adjusted sheets, served drinks, arranged towels.
"You are now part of a legacy," she continued. "One that has served dignitaries, royalty, and elite families for decades. You will be the quiet hands that keep the paradise running."
Then the screen changed. One word appeared in white text against a black background.
TERMINATION
The silence in the room shifted. A few of the pink ribbon girls squirmed in their seats. Nook's stomach tightened. She stared at the word. It sat there without explanation. Cold and final. No context. No music. Just a black screen and the feeling that something was wrong.
No one moved.
Then came a voice.
"Run."
It rang out from the right column.
A girl stood among the blue ribbon group. Her uniform was rumpled, her ribbon crooked. Her face looked hollow and pale . Her eyes were red and full of tears. Her lips trembled but her voice cut through the air.
"It's all a lie," she said, louder now. "The orientation. The hotel. None of it is real. You have to get out. Now."
She forced her way into the middle aisle, heading straight for the pink ribbon section.
"They watch everything. You will not be able to leave. Please. Run."
The pink ribbon girls froze. One clutched the edge of her chair. Another looked around, searching for someone to explain what was happening. Their earlier curiosity had vanished.
The blue ribbon girls did not react. Their faces remained still. Blank. Cold.
Miss Supatra stayed where she was. Unbothered. She did not even blink.
The four guards moved. Two stepped out from each back corner. They reached the girl before she got halfway across the room. One grabbed her arm. Another silenced her with a hand over her mouth. She thrashed and kicked but the guards did not struggle. They moved with quiet control, lifting her off the ground like luggage and carrying her away.
The door closed behind them.
The room was silent again.
Miss Supatra gave a long pause. Then she smiled.
"Well," she said, her tone overly light, "someone is not a morning person."
The words hung in the air. No one laughed. Her attempt at humor fell flat.
The pink ribbon girls looked more unsettled than before. A few glanced nervously at each other.
She tapped her clipboard.
"Let us continue," she said, her voice returning to its programmed rhythm. "Discipline is the foundation of everything we do here. Please listen carefully."
The screen behind her shifted to a list of rules.
Minimal interaction with guests unless professionally necessary.
Minimal communication with each other during work hours.
All girls must remain in their assigned cubicles after curfew. Do not leave your cubicle. No matter what you hear.
Attend all scheduled briefings. Always arrive on time.
Do not speak about your role to guests. Or to each other. Unless instructed.
Follow your daily schedule. Clean on rotation. Reset rooms to guest preferences. Perform scent balancing in assigned zones. Keep uniforms pressed. Speak only when prompted. Maintain perfect posture in guest areas.
She paused to smile again.
"If the guest is happy, we are happy."
"You will now be paired with a senior housekeeper. You are to observe them, follow their lead, and learn everything you can. This mentorship will last one month."
She looked out at the room.
"If you ever have any concerns, I am always here. I am a mother to all of you."
She smiled again. It looked like someone had told her what a smile should be without explaining why people do it.
Then the names were called. One by one, pink ribbon girls were matched with blue ribbon counterparts. As each pair was announced, they stepped forward and took seats side by side in the once empty middle column.
"Nook and Foen."
Nook felt her name hit her chest like a tap on a bell.She rose, legs stiff, and crossed to the center column. Foen was already seated, back straight, arms folded. Nook sat beside her, heart pounding.
She leaned in and whispered, "What was that earlier? That girl… why...."
Foen didn't turn her head. Her lips curled into a faint smile.
"Shhh," she said.
"That girl? She made noise. Don't be noise."
She turned, took a hard look at a scared Nook .
"Smile… while you still remember how."