You saved up for months to afford one night here. The kind of place where they remember your name and the lobby smells better than most people's weddings.

They left something brewing in your room. Delicate, pale, the kind of thing that costs more per ounce than you want to think about. Mixed with something golden and rare, the type of ingredient you've only seen in tiny glass bottles behind locked cases.

The flowers are ridiculous. Huge purple blooms that look hand painted, paired with something more exotic that you can't quite name but makes the whole room feel like you walked into someone's very expensive daydream.

Then there's the part that makes you feel like you're getting away with something. That deep, slightly forbidden sweetness. The kind rich people wear as perfume, smooth and creamy with this warmth underneath that feels both comforting and completely out of your tax bracket.

You took about a hundred photos but none of them captured it. That feeling of being somewhere you don't quite belong but somehow absolutely do.

This candle is that room. That version of yourself who fits there perfectly.