Rockstar Alert!

Chapter 3

“Can I help you with anything?” he asks, clearly frustrated at finding me at his door.
He should've been more careful then.
He eyes me up and down before his hazel eyes land on my face.
I've met quite a fair amount of people that have hazel eyes but I don't think I've ever seen that shade anywhere. It's so beautiful and complex I don't think there's words to describe his eyes truthfully. I could use the most flattering adjectives that have ever existed and it still wouldn't do them fair. Linguistic experts would have to invent a word just to describe them properly.
What am I even thinking?
That's not why I'm here.
I shake my head to break the trance that I was in.
He cocks an eyebrow. “No?” He asks, the frustration in his voice only growing.
It couldn't  be more obvious that he doesn't want me here.
Well, that makes two of us.
“I mean, yes,” I correct, focusing on what brought me here in the first place. I shouldn't let his looks distract me. Even if he's the most beautiful man I laid my eyes on. “Your music, or whatever that noise is, is too loud. I need you to turn it down a notch.”
He looks offended at first, but it disappears as quickly as it appeared.
He crosses his arms over his chest, leaning against the doorframe, bringing my attention to the bulge of biceps and muscular forearms.
Focus, focus.
I keep getting distracted. The jet lag is really messing with my brain or maybe it's this Mexican heat. I'm not used to being in a place this hot. It's gonna take me a while to get accustomed to the weather here. I hope my body gets used to it soon, though. I need my brain to be fully funcional if I have to deal with this man again.
“I'm sorry. I can't do that,” he says, not sounding as sorry as he says he is and definitely not as sorry as he should be for disturbing my peace.
Who does he think he is? Does he own the resort or something?
I hope this get his ass kicked out of here otherwise we might have problems.
I lift my eyes to his face again.
“I'm sorry. I can't do that.”
What does he mean he can't? What's stopping him from putting a stop to this?
“What? I can hear it all across the hall!” I say, doing my best to not yell at him, which is proving to be incredibly difficult. I'm too exhausted for this.
I just wanted to pass out on my bed peacefully. That was all. But no, this idiot, whoever he is, had to here right across the room making all that noise.
I came here hoping it would just be someone who wasn't aware of the noise they're making, but not only he's aware that he's disturbing other guests, he also acts like he's better than us, that whatever he's doing in there is better and more important than any of us.
I can only hope that whatever he's doing this for is really worth it.
I don't know who he thinks he is, but he has to learn that the world doesn't revolve around him.
“Across the hall?” He furrows his eyebrows in confusion. “Your room is across the hall?” he repeats.
That 's exactly what I've just told him. Why does he keep asking me that? I'm so lost
I can't help but feel that's something escaping me here. That there's something wrong.
“Yes. Why?” I ask apprehensive.
Is there something wrong with the room I'm in? Is that it?
Is it infested with bed bugs? What if it was a crome scene?
Oh my God? What if someone was murdered in my room?
“Because no one is supposed to be staying on this floor, except me”
What the hell? Is he being serious?
Because that sounds ridiculous. For what reason would he have a whole floor to himself? And why would they even give him that?
“Why?”
“To prevent situations like this one?”
That makes sense. But again why would he have a whole floor just to himself?
Unless he's super famous or something. But I'd probably recognise him if that was the case. For what I've heard he's American just like me. So I'd recognise him from somewhere probably.
I would, right?
My eyes inspect his face thoroughly.
Yeah, that's not the kind of face that easily slips your mind. I'd definitely recognise his face if I'd seen a picture of him somewhere.
He must just be rich and obnoxious. That's the only explanation that makes sense. He probably thinks he is so much better than any of us and doesn't want to mingle. It sounds like someone might have a god complex to me.
“Right. So can you turn it down?” I try again.
“I already told you I can't. I'm sorry. I'm rehearsing.”
“How am I supposed to sleep then?”
“Sleep?” He chuckles, looking down for moment, before his gaze meets mine again. “We're in the middle of the afternoon,” he states the obvious
“Well, I'm jet lagged so…”
“You just got here?” he asks.
The surprise in his voice made it clear that that possibility hadn't crossed his mind.
I nod affirmatively.
I watch as guilt seeps into his expression. That's good. He should feel guilty. Maybe he's not so bad after all. Maybe there's still a conscious person inside him.
He stands from the doorway and steps closer to me, towering over me due to our height difference. His height is almost intimidating.
“Fuck I'm so sorry. I wish there was something i could do about it.”
Is he messing with me?
I can't believe he just said with a straight face.
“Well, can't you just rehearse later?” I suggest, attempting to sound as calm as I can.“Or somewhere else?”
He shakes his head. “I'm so sorry” he keeps repeating.
I keep hearing him say he's sorry but he still hasn't offered any kind of solution for this problem.
“I can try to get you another room,” he suggests.
Just the fact that he suggests that I should be the one changing rooms infuriates me immensely. He didn't even think the other way around. He really thinks he's above everyone around him. If I wasn't so tired I'd tell him exactly what he needs to hear but I'm too exhausted to even think properly, let alone get into that argument with him.
“This place is full. There's not a single room available,” I tell him the exact words that I've heard while I was standing in the check in line.
And I happen to like my room very much and I payed a fair amount of money for it so even if that was a possibility, there's no chance I'd let that happen.
“I'm sorry about that.”
“Well you being sorry doesn't really help anything,” I say.
I can't even hide my frustration anymore, that requires energy that I no longer have. I spent the little that I had left to drag myself here. And honestly I don't think I want to hide it anymore.
“I know but I can't just stop because of one person and I need to get back so…” he says.
This is obviously my cue to leave.
I can't believe I got out of bed for this.
“Fine,” I say, turning around.
I give up. I'm too exhausted for this. He's obviously not gonna change his mind. He's too self absorbed for that. I won't waste even a second more with him. I always fight for what I want but I also know when it's time to give up and this is it.
I'm going back to my room which I should never have left. I think I packed some earplugs so that will help. At least for now.
I hear my stomach growl as I head for my room and I decide to order room service since I'm too walk just to get food.