The Hotel - H.S.

Chapter 4

1 hour in elevator

Harry's POV

Zoey. Her name is Zoey. I absolutely love her name, and I was almost stunned by how perfect it was when she introduced herself. I could not have chosen a better name for someone who is clearly so unique. 

"Harry, let's play the questions game." She interrupts my thoughts, about her, with a childlike suggestion and a childlike grin.

"I'm in, under 2 conditions." I reply, holding up 2 fingers. "1, we can veto 3 questions each if we don't want to answer them."

"And 2?"

"We have to be honest. No matter what." I raised an eyebrow at her in question.

"In. I'll go first...." she brings a her finger to her bottom lip, tapping it a few times. "What is your least favorite word?" She asks me, seriously, after a few moments of consideration.

"What! THAT'S your first question?" I ask incredulously with a surprised laugh.

"Yes! It's a very telling question!" She fires back, with conviction.

"It's panties. I fucking hate the word panties" I answer, cringing at just saying the word. She nods with a laugh at me, seeming to agree. "Ok my turn. How old are you?"

"I'm 30"

"I'm 28" I tell her back.

"What is your favorite food?" She asks next.

"Sushi, I think." I tell her, my stomach grumbling. I realize it is now around 7pm and I have barely eaten today. "Yours?"

"Pot Stickers. Or maybe jicama? No actually probably gnocchi? Honestly I have no idea." she ends with a laugh. "I'm too hungry to decide." 

"Yea I hear ya." I mutter, rubbing my face with my hands and sighing. We continue on with the questions and learn quite a bit about each other.

Zoey Miller, college drop out who is obsessed with music but could never narrow it down to a genre she prefers, seems to live on coffee and impulses - trusting herself completely, loves to dance, pities people who take themselves too seriously, is here from San Francisco but vetoed the question about why she is here, staying near me on floor 13 for a few months and looking to have as much fun as possible. I spent a majority of the first hour shaking my head in admiration at her easy and genuine spirit. She was an open book, not just to me here in this elevator but in life. She is a photographer in Northern California, but is in between projects currently. She seems to be fully out of touch with pop culture but also seems to understand the intricate ins and outs of worldly current events and politics. Her favorite movie is Empire Records (stunning choice) and when I asked her favorite song she just scoffed at me.

"That is a ridiculous question, Harry. I have over 1,000 favorite songs. It's completely subjective to mood, circumstance and company, among immeasurable amounts of other variables." 

I stared at her for a few seconds before feeling a huge smile break out on my face. "You're absolutely right, holy shit." I laughed about the truth in her answer. We had both been laughing nearly nonstop since our game started, and it was an excellent distraction from the stress of the situation. "I've always thought it was odd that I have a different favorite song each time someone asks me that. But you're correct."