Evan Peters Imagines and One Shots

Mr. March - James Patrick March

After receiving a wedding invite for my best friend last month, I couldn't refuse, even though I was not too fond of weddings. I'd already flown to California to be her maid of honor. She requested to pay for my room in an expensive hotel, but I refused the offer. As much as it would've been nice to stay in the same hotel as most celebrities did, I was not fond of her bridesmaids either. If my bridesmaid tried to sleep with my groom, she wouldn't be in attendance, but this wasn't my wedding. I found a gorgeous hotel online that wasn't too far from theirs. The prices were to die for the vintage-themed building. But judging by its affordability, most people didn't want to experience classic over modern.

The place felt like a fever dream but had dark energy as I entered. The receptionist's desk was empty, so I rang the bell. As I waited for someone to check me in, I glanced around at the other guests. They were all dressed as if they had come from different eras, from the 20s to the present. There must have been a history convention somewhere that they had all come to attend. I'd love to join if my friend's rehearsal dinner wasn't tonight. The sound of someone clearing their throat gathered my attention. An older lady stood behind the desk. She looked drained and greeted me without a smile.

"How may I help you today?" she asked.

"Oh, hello. How are you today?" I greeted.

The woman didn't respond as she stared at me like she was ready to get this over with. She must've had a terrible day and was ready to get home, so I didn't want to take up any more of her time.

"My name is Y/n L/n, and I need a room for a week. It could be a single room or a suite. Whatever makes it easier for you." I expressed.

"You'll get a single room for seventy-five dollars," she explained, filling out some paperwork as she did. "And we only take cash."

"That's no problem. I keep cash on me like a sweater." I joked.

I chuckled while she continued to stare at me. Her blank expression hadn't changed in the slightest. The grey-haired elder looked at me like she didn't understand humor or the concept of optimism. The joke was corny, but she could've given me something to work with. I'd even take a frown at this point, but I handed her the money. While she processed my payment, I glanced around the room again. Most guests had disappeared, but there was one new face.

His brown eyes watched over everyone, smoking a pipe as he peered over the overhead railing. The handsome beaux could've come out of a black-and-white film with how slicked his black hair was and his skinny mustache. Skimming around the perimeter, he stopped as he set his sights on me. He removed his pipe from his lips and smirked before walking away and disappearing from my view. I could've sworn he vanished out of thin air, but I could've been imagining things since I was still tired from my flight.

"You'll need to sign these consent forms as well," she declared, placing papers on the desk. "They simply state we're not liable for anything bad that happens to you here."

"Oh okay. Don't you mean 'if anything bad happens?'" I chuckled nervously.

She'd shown me the most emotion as she snickered and handed me a pen. I started to regret my friend's offer for the other hotel. She could tell by my concerned expression I was questioning my choice of staying here. The desk phone rang, startling me from staring at the forms. She sighed before picking up the phone and answering it. Tucking the phone between her shoulder and ear, she spoke through the line in her monotone voice.

"Hello. This is the Hotel Cortez, how may I assist you?... Good Evening, Mr. March!..." -she moved the phone into her hand- "Yes, right here?... Single room... As you wish, Mr. March. Goodbye!"

She hung up the phone and grabbed a room key.

"This key belongs to the Hollywood Suite. Free of charge." She declared.