DEMONitized

Chapter 1

It was another day in paradise on the Sunset Strip, which meant more check-ins, check-outs, and every complaint in between. 

There were rumors of an esteemed guest on floor twelve, only further fueled by strict instructions from management to "treat the woman in 1204 well, and don't interact with her if you don't have to."

An influencer. Of course. The desk attendant didn't keep track of all that Facestagram nonsense, but she'd read a few articles about so-called "hotel squatters," people who pretended to be famous for free food and lodgings.

As the attendant looked up from her phone, her eyes met a pair of sunglasses that betrayed nothing. Within seconds, the stranger had a wad of hundred-dollar bills in her outstretched hand. This influencer was the real deal.

She looked like a caricature, with bleached blonde hair and one of those trendy wool coats that looked more like a bathrobe. Not that anyone needed a coat on a 90-degree day in Los Angeles. Beneath the coat sat a weather-appropriate tube top and a plain black pair of jogging pants. 

"Thank you for staying at the Wilton," the clerk smiled graciously as she counted the cash. 

"Honestly, it was one of the nicest stays I've had in a long time," the bespectacled guest replied. 

"Really!?" 

"It's not as fancy as my usual digs, but the room was so clean, and no one bothered me at all!"

"Well, I'm glad to hear you enjoyed, but -"

The influencer slid her glasses down her nose to make direct eye contact with the employee.

"Yeah, yeah. I know there's $200 change. Keep it."

The employee nearly dropped the cash.

"Wow, I- I don't know what to say besides 'thank you!'"

"If you want to thank me, invest that money in yourself somehow. I used to be a secretary, but I spent a lot of time exploring who I was and look where it took me!"

"Well again, I can't thank you enough. Here's your receipt, and your driver is out front."

The mysterious blonde took the sliver of paper, scrunched it into her coat pocket, smiled at the employee, and exited the hotel. A man in a suit greeted her out front and opened a large, black SUV door. He helped her in and put her bag in the trunk.

"The move is going as well as you'd expect," the chauffeur addressed his boss while sliding into the driver's seat.

"That's good to hear," his passenger replied, refusing to look up from her phone.

"We should be there in about two hours if you want to uh... do what you always do, I guess."

She nodded wordlessly and began scrolling through her Facestagram feed. 

As the SUV hit the highway, the driver glanced up at his rear-view mirror to see how the young woman was holding up. 

"You doing alright back there, Gwen? We can talk things out again if you'd like."

The influencer sighed.

"I appreciate your concern, Philip. Just bummed... about everything."

Gwen leaned her right shoulder against the car door to get a better sight of her news feed. Not that there was much news to be found - like everything of late, her mind felt trapped in the past, dreaming of old places and friends. She tried to position herself in such a way that hid her sullen expression from her assistant.

But as the sunny beachside view gave way to a more rural environment, Gwen spent less time looking at her phone and more time on the sights outside the tinted window.