They stood on the sidewalk, craning their necks, staring up at the gleaming facade of the high-rise. Its modern architecture, a blend of polished glass and intricate brickwork, seemed to touch the clouds, a stark, almost blinding contrast to the decaying buildings of their old neighborhood. The street itself was immaculate, the trees perfectly pruned, the air feeling cleaner, lighter.
"Wow," Lily breathed, her voice a hushed whisper, her eyes wide with unadulterated awe. "What are we doing here, Winston? What is this place?"
Winston himself was taken aback, the reality of it still incredibly difficult to believe. His mind kept trying to reject the image before him, searching for hidden flaws, the inevitable trick. But it was undeniably real. "Let's go," he said, his voice a little hoarse, pulling his gaze away from the skyscraper's summit.
As they approached the building's entrance, a security guard stood by the revolving door, impeccably dressed in a dark uniform, his posture ramrod straight. Winston tensed, expecting a challenge, a question about their presence. But the guard merely offered a polite, almost imperceptible nod as they walked past, not saying a word.
Inside, the lobby was a revelation. It was vast and airy, filled with the hushed murmur of affluent living. Another security guard stood near a bank of gleaming elevators. The floors were polished marble, reflecting the soft glow of elegant chandeliers. Plush, oversized sofas were arranged in tasteful seating areas, surrounded by lush, vibrant plants. The air smelled faintly of expensive wood polish and something indefinably clean. Lily spun slowly, her jaw slack, her head tilting back to take in the sheer scale of the space.
Winston, despite the AI's promises and the legal papers on his phone, felt a familiar wave of nervousness. His worn clothes, the faint smell of gasoline and city grime that clung to him, suddenly felt acutely out of place. He squared his shoulders, trying to project a confidence he didn't possess, and walked toward the polished counter where a receptionist sat, framed by a wall of frosted glass.
She looked up as he approached, her gaze briefly sweeping over his faded jeans and scuffed shoes, but her expression remained perfectly professional. "Hello, how can I help you?" she asked, her voice calm and welcoming.
"Uh, yes," Winston stammered, feeling awkward. "I recently got an apartment here."
"Can we see your ID, please? And your phone number?" she requested, her fingers poised over a keyboard.
Winston fumbled in his wallet, handing over his ID and reciting his number. The receptionist typed, her eyes flicking between the screen and his documents. To Winston, the three minutes she spent verifying his information stretched into an eternity, each second amplifying his anxiety. He waited, convinced she was about to tell him there was a mistake, that he had the wrong building.
Finally, she looked up, a pleasant smile gracing her lips. "Ah, Mr. Stone. Welcome to The HighRise Building." She pushed two sleek, magnetic keys across the counter. "Our staff member will show you to your room 7A and hope you find your new home comfortable."
As if on cue, a friendly staff member in a neat uniform appeared from behind a door, smiling warmly. "Mr. Stone? Ms. Lily? Right this way, please." She guided them toward the elevators, the doors sliding open silently to reveal a luxurious, wood-paneled interior.
They rode up to the 7th floor, the ascent smooth and quiet. When the doors chimed open, the staff member gestured down the hallway. "Before you enter your room, I'd like to remind you of some of our amenities. We have a fully equipped gym, a fantastic restaurant on the ground floor, and both outside and inside seating areas for you to relax or dine. Your room has laundry facilities, but you can also call us for laundry service. We have a kitchen downstairs that will deliver directly to your room, which you will be charged for, of course. And if you need anything else at all, please don't hesitate to let us know. We aim to make your stay as comfortable as possible."
Winston and Lily stood there, utterly shocked. The sheer level of service, the amenities, the effortless luxury. "I can see why it's $6,000 a month," Winston mumbled, the words escaping before he could stop them.
The staff member smiled. "Sir, this apartment is $7,000 a month."
Winston's eyes widened, confused. He heard the AI's voice, calm and unhurried, in his head: I changed it last minute. A new apartment opened up in the same building for $7,000, so I upgraded it. The building owners were actually happy because they didn't have to search too long, so they let us upgrade you. I didn't notify you because you would've panicked at the thought of $7,000 a month.
Winston shook his head, a bewildered sigh escaping him. This AI was truly acting like $7,000 wasn't a lot.
With a deep breath, Winston used the key card to open their apartment door. The moment it swung inward, they stepped into another realm. The apartment was nothing like their old, cramped, dimly lit space. Everything was so fancy, organized, and meticulously clean, bathed in the warm glow of recessed lighting. The living room was spacious, featuring a plush, modern sofa and a large, flat-screen TV set up on a minimalist stand. The kitchen boasted glistening marble countertops and a sleek, stainless steel fridge that looked like something out of a magazine. There were no broken cabinets, no peeling paint. The floors were beautiful polished hardwood with a subtle blue design, adding to the elegant aesthetic. The bathroom was huge, sparkling clean, and undeniably sophisticated, with gleaming fixtures and a large, walk-in shower.
They moved into the two bedrooms, both remarkably spacious. To Winston's astonishment, it seemed the AI had already taken care of everything. The beds were made, the rooms perfectly set up, as if new furniture had just been delivered and arranged. Each bedroom had a generous closet, and in one of them, tucked neatly behind a sliding door, was a modern washer and dryer. Beautiful window curtains framed views of the city below, adding another layer of luxury. The entire apartment felt impossibly clean, organized, and serene.
Lily walked through the rooms, her initial amazement giving way to a bewildered stillness. "Ah, why are we here?" she asked, her voice barely a whisper, still refusing to believe everything she'd heard the receptionist and staff member say. It was too good to be true.
Winston knelt, taking her hands, his voice thick with emotion. "Lily," he said, his gaze locked on hers. "This is it. This is really where we will be living."
Lily's face remained still for a moment, then her eyes welled up. Tears began to stream down her cheeks. "Brother," she pleaded, her voice cracking, "Please don't try to prank me." She covered her face with her hands, the sobs starting to shake her small frame.
"Lily, look." Winston took her hands again, gently pulling them away from her face, and showed her the gleaming keys and the official-looking legal papers on his phone. "It's really ours."
At that, Lily broke down completely, burying her face in his chest, her thin shoulders shaking with silent sobs. Winston wrapped his arms around her, holding her tightly. And then, he felt his own eyes burn. Tears began to pour from him too, hot and unstoppable. They were tears that carried the weight of how hard life had been, the crushing difficulties they had endured, the endless struggle. They were tears for Lily, who was so keenly aware of how hard her brother worked to give her a good life, and for his own silent burdens. Tears flowed and flowed, a torrent of release, until their hearts, battered but hopeful, finally realized that things, truly, were going to get better.