Norman stretched out on the plush king-sized bed, the remnants of last night’s party still lingering in his head. His body ached from too many drinks, too little sleep, and the weight of living without purpose.

The midday sun pushed through the heavy drapes, warming the room with its golden light.

The room itself was a testament to luxury—silk sheets, expensive furniture, and a panoramic view of the city skyline. For Norman, it was just another perk of being the son of the hotel owner.

Suddenly, the door burst open with a force that startled Norman out of his daze. Standing in the doorway was his father, Kolin, his expression a mix of anger and deep disappointment.

Norman barely had time to sit up before his father’s voice cut through the silence.

“Norman!” Kolin’s voice was sharp, reverberating off the marble floors.

“How much longer are you going to continue down this path? All you do is drink, sleep, and waste your life away, all on my money!”

Norman blinked, trying to shake off the grogginess. “Dad, relax,” he mumbled, running a hand through his disheveled hair.

“I’m just having a little fun. It’s not like I’m doing anything wrong. I help out sometimes, don’t I?”

Kolin’s eyes narrowed, his voice rising with frustration.

“Fun? You call this fun? This is a business, Norman! A business that your grandfather built with his blood, sweat, and tears. And you treat it like your personal playground! If you keep going like this, I won’t leave you a single penny, let alone this hotel. I’ll throw you out on the street, and we’ll see how far your ‘fun’ takes you then!”

A cold wave of fear washed over Norman. He had always assumed the hotel would be his one day, that he could continue living in luxury without any real effort.

The thought of losing everything shook him to his core.

“Dad, please,” he stammered, his voice desperate.

“Don’t say that. I know I’ve been irresponsible, but I can handle this. Give me a chance to prove it to you.”

Kolin’s intense gaze bore into his son for what felt like an eternity. Finally, he nodded, though his expression remained stern.

“Alright, Norman. I’ll give you one last chance. This weekend, we have some very important guests coming to review the hotel. Our reputation is on the line. “

He added with all seriousness.

“I have to leave town, so you’ll be in charge. But remember this: our family’s success has always been built on humility and genuine care for our guests.

If you fail in these aspects, you’ll lose everything—no excuses.”

Norman’s heart pounded as he swallowed hard, nodding solemnly. “I won’t let you down, Dad. I promise.”

The weekend arrived, and with it, a sense of urgency settled over the hotel. Norman, now acting as the manager, felt the weight of responsibility on his shoulders.

This was his chance to prove himself, to show his father that he could be trusted with the family business. The hotel staff was buzzing with activity, ensuring every detail was perfect.

The grand chandeliers sparkled, the marble floors gleamed, and the air was filled with the subtle scent of fresh flowers.

The hotel was a picture of elegance and sophistication, ready to be scrutinized by the critical eyes of the reviewers.

Norman moved through the hotel with a confident stride, his eyes scanning every corner to make sure nothing was out of place.

The critics had arrived earlier in the day, and everything seemed to be going smoothly.

They had complimented the hotel’s décor, praised the staff’s professionalism, and appeared generally pleased with their experience so far.

Norman allowed himself a small sigh of relief. Maybe, just maybe, he was pulling this off.

But just as he began to relax, something caught his eye in the dining hall. A disheveled figure sat at one of the tables, hunched over a plate of food.

The man had a long, scraggly beard, and his worn hat cast a shadow over most of his face. He didn’t belong here, not in this setting, not today.

Fury surged through Norman as he stormed over to the table. “What are you doing here?” he demanded, his voice low but laced with anger. “You can’t stay here! You’ll ruin everything.”

The homeless man looked up, his tired eyes meeting Norman’s. There was no fear in his gaze, just a quiet resignation.

“I’m just hungry,” the man said softly. “I’ll leave after I’ve eaten.”

“Not a chance,” Norman snapped, his frustration mounting. This was the last thing he needed today.

“You’re leaving now!”

As Norman reached out to grab the man, the head chef appeared beside them, a look of concern on his face.

“Mr. Norman, please,” the chef intervened, his voice calm but firm. “Let him eat. He’s not causing any harm. I’ll make sure he leaves quietly after he’s done.”

Norman paused, his mind racing. He wanted to avoid making a scene, especially with the critics nearby, but he was also desperate to maintain the hotel’s pristine image.

After a tense moment of deliberation, he reluctantly nodded.

“Fine,” he muttered, his tone clipped. “But make sure he’s gone before the critics see him again.”

The chef gave a grateful nod and turned back to the kitchen, leaving Norman to stew in his frustration.

He couldn’t shake the feeling that this incident, however small, might be a sign that things were slipping out of his control.

As the afternoon sun dipped lower in the sky, casting long shadows through the large windows of the hotel, Norman’s anxiety began to gnaw at him.

The day had started off well, but the presence of the homeless man earlier had left him unsettled. Still, he pushed those thoughts aside, focusing on the task at hand.

This was his moment to prove he could manage the hotel just as well as his father, if not better.

With the critics in tow, he led them on a tour of the hotel’s finest suites, highlighting the luxurious details—the plush bedding, the marble bathrooms, the stunning views.

Norman kept his tone confident and professional, pointing out the meticulous care that went into maintaining the hotel’s high standards. The critics seemed engaged, nodding approvingly as they took in the surroundings.

For a brief moment, Norman allowed himself to believe that everything was going according to plan.

But that fragile sense of control shattered the moment they stepped into the last suite. Norman froze in the doorway, his breath catching in his throat.

There, sprawled across the bed, was the homeless man, snoring softly, completely unaware of the chaos he was about to cause.

Norman’s face flushed with a mix of shock and fury. His mind raced, trying to comprehend how this man had ended up here, in one of the hotel’s most exclusive rooms.

The critics stood behind him, their expressions a mixture of surprise and disapproval.

Without thinking, Norman lunged forward, grabbing the man roughly by the arm. “What are you doing here? Get out!” he shouted, his voice trembling with anger.

The man stirred, groggy and confused, as Norman dragged him out of the bed and toward the door.

The critics watched in stunned silence, their initial surprise quickly turning to discomfort as they witnessed Norman’s harsh treatment of the man.

The atmosphere in the room grew tense, the air thick with disapproval.

Once the man was out in the hallway, Norman turned back to the critics, his face flushed and his hands shaking.

“I’m sorry about this,” he stammered, desperately trying to regain his composure. “This is highly unusual. I assure you, this isn’t how we operate.”

But it was clear that the damage had been done. The critics exchanged glances, their murmured conversations filled with dissatisfaction.

One of them, clearly unimpressed, turned to Norman and said, “We’ve seen enough.”

Norman’s heart sank as he watched them walk away. He knew in that moment that he had failed, but the true weight of his failure hadn’t yet fully hit him.

He stood there, staring at the closed door, his mind a blur of confusion and regret, not yet realizing how deeply he had misunderstood what really mattered.

The next morning, Kolin returned to the hotel, his expression stern as he approached Norman, who was already waiting for him in the lobby.

Norman’s heart raced with anxiety; he knew he hadn’t handled things perfectly, but he still hoped his father wouldn’t be too harsh. Kolin didn’t waste any time, his voice firm as he spoke.

“I heard what happened, Norman. You failed the test.”

Norman’s frustration, which had been simmering since the day before, finally boiled over.

“Dad, it wasn’t my fault! That homeless man shouldn’t have been here in the first place. I was just trying to protect our reputation!”

Kolin’s expression softened, but it wasn’t with understanding—it was with deep disappointment. He shook his head slowly, the weight of his disapproval clear.

“Norman, the test wasn’t about the critics’ review. It was about how you treated that man.”

Norman frowned, confusion written across his face.

“What do you mean?”

Kolin sighed, taking a deep breath before explaining.

“That man was me, Norman. I wanted to see if you’d uphold our family’s values—humility, compassion, and care for every person who walks through these doors. Instead, all you focused on was the hotel’s image and the money it might bring you. You showed no compassion, no understanding.”

Norman’s face drained of color as the truth hit him like a ton of bricks. “Dad, I—”

But Kolin didn’t let him finish. He shook his head again, this time with finality.

“You’re not ready to run this hotel, Norman. You still have much to learn about what truly matters.”

Norman stood there, stunned and speechless, as the reality of his failure settled in. He had lost his chance, not because of a bad review, but because he had lost sight of the values his family had always cherished.