Rumors always circulated around the Luneta Hotel. They said it was the place statesmen brought their mistresses. Between the Luneta Hotel and the grand Manila Hotel, the former always had the more interesting stories. Of course, a more interesting story was what he craved in life, which is why he decided to end his own one evening, surrendering to the fangs of one of the curiously pale lady he met at the hotel bar.
But alas, darkness finally descended on the landmark. Shuttered in the days of Martial Law on to the early 2000s, he took leave from the place that had given him life. As he traveled the world, from Transylvania to Pennsylvania, he longed for the day he could once again behold her in the glorious architecture that withheld all her secrets.
When he heard she had once again opened a few years back, there was no question of his return. They were the same age now: he and his hotel, on the cusp of turning 100. The new presidency didn’t matter, nor did the traffic; he needed to see her again, be in her again, live amidst her hallways and spend the rest of eternity with her, his beloved hotel.
But first, dinner.