Chapter 2

Two months ago…

"The view is so nice here," sighed Bellina in content, resting her chin on her folded arms atop the windowsill. It has been half an hour already and the secretary has not summoned her yet for her first assignment as tour guide.

From her perch, the world felt like a living canvas, each layer shifting with the sun’s slow arc. The city of Kaleido shimmered in the afternoon light. Sunlight danced off the windows, refracting like liquid crystal. In the far distance to the south, the peaks of the rugged Kalash Range were etched against a cloudless sky. Rows and rows of apartment blocks stretched onward to the distant foothills of the Range, punctuated by soaring office towers and especially by the largest collection of them: the Sofiya CBD, appearing as a magnificent glassy crag in the ocean of Kaleido’s alabaster tenements. The city may be a comfortable place to live, but it did have its social divide; the tenements were mostly housing paid for by the city government, with Sofiya holding all the premium real estate. But socioeconomics was the farthest from Bell’s mind right now. Kaleido is simply Kaleido, yo. It was her grand collage, layers of separate contrasting stills of cityscape, each standing in its own distance among each other, that so delighted the eyes. A soft breeze carried the scent of blooming rooftop gardens and the faint hum of far-off sky-trams gliding along their magnetic rails.

Bellina closed her eyes, letting the breeze tug playfully at her short, windswept hair through the gap in the windowpane. Right now, this was her favorite spot; up here, she was simply herself. Here, amidst the quiet hum of technology and the pulse of a living city, the boundaries between what was built and what simply was seemed to blur.

The faint whir-click of a nearby utility drone caught her attention. She opened one eye, spotting a battered cleaning drone wobbling its way along the edge of the rooftop. Its sensors flickered, clearly struggling with a navigation glitch.

"Hang in there, buddy," she murmured with a soft smile.

Afternoon light poured through the tempered glass of the wide, floor-to-ceiling windows of the office, casting long, angular shadows across the polished concrete floor. The faint hum of distant airships blended with the soft whir of ceiling fans turning lazily above. A low-hanging industrial lamp bathed the office in a warm, focused glow, contrasting with the cool daylight spilling through the windows. The screen above the door read out the time and date: 16:21::08.14.3333

For a moment, concern gripped her even as she let her thoughts drifts. If that janitor bot ended up having trouble working in this company, what about a lowly entry-level gal like her?

"Do you have siblings?" was the first thing Bellina remembered her roommate Reena say the night before this first workday.

"Where did that come from....?"

"Siblings. Younger ones to be exact, baby brothers, sisters, kids."

Uneasy chuckle. "You telling me our customers are kids? HR didn't give any inkling of that."

"No, not the clients themselves, it's their kit, their pets, their extra demands. And yes, literal kids they tow along from time to time."

"..."

"You weren't listening, really. HR said each of us will be catering to one or two customers who will pay extra for the least bits of extra, ahem, attention to their needs.

"I mean, what is our higher rate for?"

She had spent the rest of the evening trying to keep up with Reena’s rapid-fire lecture of on-the-go housekeeping and other details not at all covered in the interview. The company advert said Tour Guide, didn’t it?

Ding ding! Ding ding!

Her reverie broken, Bellina adjusted her collar nervously and she stood in front of the sleek, matte-black entrance of "Sublime Tailored Services, Ltd." The company logo gleamed with understated elegance—a stylized key intertwined with a clock face. The tagline beneath it read: Personalized Care Beyond Expectation.

She inhaled deeply, steadying her nerves. Her roommate’s crash course in "client-specific service protocols" still buzzed in her head: individualized cleaning preferences, pet routines, home tech synchronization, and even emergency crayon stain removal from expensive imported furs.

The automated glass doors slid open with a soft hiss, and she stepped into the pristine lobby. Polished marble floors reflected soft, ambient lighting, and the air smelled faintly of cedar and citrus. A cascading water feature murmured in one corner, as if urging her to relax—not that it helped.

First day... you’ve got this... probably.

She approached the check-in terminal, her reflection flickering faintly on the screen’s polished surface. Before she could tap her ID badge, the tall, impeccably dressed secretary appeared as if conjured from thin air.

"Miss Bellina, welcome," he greeted smoothly, his voice as calm and precise as the ticking of a well-wound clock. "Your client portfolio has already been assigned. Please proceed to Orientation Room A."

Bellina blinked, barely managing a nod before following the subtly lit path toward the orientation wing. The corridor stretched long and straight; its quiet elegance broken only by occasional bursts of soft chimes from distant message alerts.

She passed several rooms with glass-paneled walls, offering glimpses of other employees—some organizing color-coded cleaning supplies, others carefully studying digital pet-behavior charts. One was meticulously arranging a selection of artisanal teas on a lacquered tray, moving each tin with surgical precision.

Her heart skipped a beat. This was way more intense than she’d expected.

Finally, she reached Room A and hesitated before the softly glowing door panel. As she raised a trembling hand to knock, the door slid open of its own accord.

Inside, a spacious, impeccably arranged briefing lounge awaited, complete with plush seating and a holo-display already projecting her assignment details:

CLIENT: House Velcroft (Primary)

Status: Platinum-tier VIP

The words "Multigenerational Household" blinked ominously at the bottom of the file.

Bellina swallowed hard as the memory of her roommate’s parting words resurfaced: "Ah, to be an innocent first-timer again. If only. Good luck."