In My Dreams - Bill Kaulitz Story

86. Cleaning up

POV Elise

The morning was like any other morning, gray and chilly. Half a year had flown by since I returned from the other world. Time had shown no mercy, flowing like an unstoppable current. My mother, despite her fragile health, had held on, and every day had become a gift. The experiences from my journey to another dimension were like vague memories, fleeting dreams blending with the reality of my everyday life. The sound of the alarm clock shattered the silence and forced me out of my sleep. With leaden feet, I got up and put on my hotel uniform. It was a gray, oversized outfit that was not at all flattering, but it served as my work attire. The thought of a new workday weighed on my mood, but I knew that complaining was not an option. Work was our only way to survive.
I left my room and went downstairs, where my mother was already sitting in front of the television. Her gaze stared into the infinite, as if trapped in her own thoughts. Worries were etched on her face, and I couldn't deny that she seemed to be deteriorating lately. A sense of helplessness overwhelmed me as I greeted her and kissed her forehead. She glanced at me briefly, her eyes dull, and then returned to the television. "See you later," I said, my voice muted by the gravity of the situation, as I put on my shoes and left the house. The streets were quiet and deserted at this early hour. A low-hanging mist enveloped the buildings, giving the city a eerie atmosphere. I focused on my work and walked decisively to my destination.

Arriving at my workplace, I greeted my colleagues with a forced smile. The prospect of a double shift didn't exactly excite me, but I knew it was necessary. We needed every bit of income. The grin on my boss's face boded ill as I arrived at the hotel. He was already waiting for me, his eyes gleaming with satisfaction. "Elise," he began with an air of satisfaction, "you will have to go to room 210. They had a wild party there last night, and you'll have to clean up everything there by yourself." I sighed, knowing that this scenario repeated itself daily. My boss seemed to take sadistic pleasure in giving me the most unpleasant tasks. Normally, there were two of us to clean such rooms, but he deemed it necessary for me to do it alone.
With a heavy heart, I headed to room 210. The sight that awaited me defied all imagination. The guests had turned the room into a true chaos of dirt and misery. The smell of cigarette smoke and alcohol tickled my nose, while the floor was littered with broken glass and other debris. The walls were smeared with who knows what, and the odor in the room was anything but pleasant. I put on my gloves, a routine that had become all too familiar. As I began cleaning the walls stained with vomit, I couldn't help but wonder why I couldn't just go back to my rockstar life. A life where I stood on stage, surrounded by fans, instead of here, on my knees on the hotel floor. Why couldn't I just return to that other world, where fans shouted my name instead of this endless cycle of cleaning and surviving? I felt trapped in a world that no longer belonged to me, and every time I had to clean such a room, it felt like a piece of my soul was lost. But as much as I longed for that other life, it remained out of reach. My choices, my circumstances, my mom, had brought me here, to a world of cleaning work and daily struggle. As I cleaned up the mess in room 210, I could only hope for a day when my life would take a different turn.
The hours crawled by as I carried out my tasks, my thoughts occasionally drifting to the situation at home. During my break, I tried to reach my mother, but her phone went unanswered. A feeling of concern gnawed at me, but I pushed it away and focused on the rest of my workday. However, the worried look in her eyes left no room for reassurance.

I barely had time to think because my hotel pager went off, and my boss was on the line. "Elise, you urgently need to go to room 336. The customer complained about filth. You'll have to fix that." It was always the same story; when there was a complaint, I was the one to handle it. Another humiliating task where customers were angry at me, convinced that I didn't do my job well, even if I hadn't cleaned that room at all. With a sense of humiliation, I went to room 336.
The hallway seemed longer than usual as I made my way to the designated room. I already knew what awaited me - the angry looks, the accusations, the feeling of failure. It was a role assigned to me, whether I deserved it or not. Arriving at the designated room, I hesitated for a moment before knocking. The tension of what awaited me hung in the air like a heavy burden.
I knocked on the door, and to my great surprise, it opened. I looked straight into the brown eyes that I knew all too well. Before me stood Bill Kaulitz. My eyes widened, and I felt a lump in my throat. I shook myself awake for a moment, realizing that I had to behave professionally. After all, this Bill didn't know me. I rattled off the sentence I always used when I had to resolve something. "Good afternoon, Mr. Kaulitz. My name is Elise, and I'm here to resolve the issue with your room. I apologize for the inconvenience." I tried to conjure a friendly smile on my face, although my heart still pounded from the shock of his presence. He looked at me for a moment, as if trying to figure out who I was. "Ah, yes, of course," he mumbled eventually. "Come in, I guess."