The immediate aftermath of Shyan's fabricated emergency saw the elegant, hushed environment of the luxury hotel lobby shatter into chaos. Shyan, leaning heavily on his own father, insisted on being transported immediately to the reception desk, his dramatic groans echoing across the imported Italian marble floor. He refused to be seen by a doctor until he had secured what he truly craved: access to Roo's room to confirm his lie.
The Reception Desk Fiasco
The reception desk, usually a haven of quiet, polished efficiency, quickly became the stage for a grotesque performance. Behind the long, dark wood counter stood a young, impeccably groomed Receptionist, whose training was immediately put to the test against the hysterical demands of the wedding party.
"I told you! She's hiding him!" Shyan shouted, ignoring his father's attempts to calm him and leaning his full weight onto the counter. His voice was raw, designed to attract attention. "She has locked the door! An adulterer! She assaulted me when I tried to verify her integrity!"
Roo's mother, sensing that the accusation of infidelity might damage the family's honor more than the assault claim, immediately employed the "Family Card Drama." She slapped her hands against the marble counter, her face crumpled in a tragic mask.
"My daughter is unwell!" the mother wailed, her voice hitting a perfect high-pitched note of parental panic. "She is severely allergic to garlic! She must have accidentally ingested something at the buffet. She could be having a severe anaphylactic reaction—fever, rashes, maybe even fainting! That's why she can't open the door!"
The Receptionist, a young man named Rahul who looked barely old enough to vote, blinked rapidly, his composure wavering. He gripped the edge of the keyboard, his eyes darting between Shyan's theatrical agony and the mother's desperate, tearful performance.
"Madam, I understand your concern," Rahul recited, his voice cracking slightly as he clung to the hotel script. "But without verbal confirmation from the guest, under our strict privacy policy—a policy designed to protect guests like your daughter—I cannot issue a master key."
"Policy?!" Roo's father, a man accustomed to his orders being obeyed instantly, slammed his fist onto the counter, causing a small crystal vase to rattle precariously. "We are her parents! Her life is in danger! We are not criminals! I am a reputable man, I employ thousands! Are you calling me a trespasser on my own daughter's medical emergency?!"
Shyan seized the opening. "Exactly! She's having a crisis! We have medical staff waiting! Give us the key, or I will file a lawsuit against this hotel for negligence when she is found dead inside!" He threw in a few more agonizing groans, just for effect.
Rahul stood his ground, visibly sweating now, the quiet elegance of the lobby seeming to mock the raw, desperate scene. "Sir, I must call my supervisor. Please step back from the desk."
The Manager's Stand
Moments later, the Hotel Manager, a tall, immaculately dressed woman named Ms. Kapoor, glided into the scene. Her presence immediately dampened the raw hysteria, but her expression was one of cold, professional finality.
"Mr. and Mrs. Sharma, Mr. Shyan," Ms. Kapoor's voice was calm, cutting through the residual noise. "I understand the urgency. However, our first priority is the absolute, unbreachable privacy of our client. The guest, Ms. Sharma, requested zero disturbances. Issuing a master key against a guest's wishes is a violation that would result in my immediate dismissal and substantial legal action against this establishment."
"But the medical emergency!" Roo's mother wailed, doubling down on the garlic allergy lie, pointing frantically to a uniformed hotel medic who had indeed been summoned to the scene. "She is a young girl, she is alone, and she is ill! Do you value your job more than the life of my daughter?!"
"That is emotional blackmail, Madam," Ms. Kapoor stated flatly, refusing to be swayed. "If the matter were truly life-threatening, we would be speaking to the city police and fire department, not arguing over a key."