Jessica pushed the idle chatter of the other maids to the back of her mind as they ascended to the penthouse suite that awaited their yet unseen master. A pang of sadness nipped at her, a growing seed of doubt that sometimes bloomed into full-blown despair. Is he even real? she pondered, her heart wrestling with hope and skepticism. Before her doubts could root any deeper, she shunted them aside, rallying her belief. He has to exist. Who would perpetuate such a cruel joke otherwise?

The elevator's chime snapped her back from her reverie. Ruth, her head maid, burst with unwavering enthusiasm, "All right, ladies! Let's make his penthouse spotless!" Jessica rolled her eyes subtly at the familiar routine. Spotless? It's always spotless, she thought, her mind recounting the countless cycles of cleaning a penthouse where no dust ever settled, where no disorder ever dared to manifest. With a sigh masked by a smile, she grabbed her duster and stepped into the lavish expanse of the master's domain.

While Ruth commandeered a squad towards the stainless kitchen, Jessica and three other maids started in the master bedroom, the heart of the penthouse. Officially, they were there to clean, but in reality, they skimmed surfaces already gleaming, their actions more for form than function. Their conversation meandered from musings about their elusive master to favorite dishes and mundane day-to-day life within this eternal wait.

Just as Jessica swiped a feathery duster over a nearby windowsill, a peculiar shape caught her eye, nestled amidst the silk sheets of the king-sized bed. Her initial thought was dismissive, Probably just another eager woman trying to position herself as the first delight he gazes upon. It wasn't uncommon. Many had tried to stake such claims before, weaving themselves into the narrative of their awaited master's arrival.