Dreams [PRN]

chapter four

As dawn's first light filtered through the curtains of the luxurious hotel room, I awoke from a restless slumber that had been more about processing the events of the previous day than finding rest. My mind, still buzzing with the possibilities Prince had laid before me, couldn't settle. This unexpected respite in such an opulent setting seemed like a dream from which I might wake at any moment, back in the harsh reality of my life under Rosa's rule.

With a deep, steadying breath, I rose from the bed, the plush carpet comforting beneath my bare feet. The room, still dimly lit by the early morning light, invited a moment of tranquility and reflection. It struck me then that I could use this time, this space, to indulge in a little self-care—a luxury I seldom afforded myself.

I decided to take full advantage of the amenities the hotel room offered. The bathroom, tiled in soothing hues and equipped with a spacious bathtub, seemed like the perfect place to start. I filled the tub, watching as steam rose in gentle swirls, the warm water beckoning. Scents of lavender and vanilla from the provided bath salts filled the air, transforming the space into a sanctuary. As I eased myself into the water, every muscle in my body relaxed, the heat seeping deep, unwinding the tightly coiled tension that had become my constant companion.

The bath was a simple pleasure, yet it felt profoundly transformative. For those moments, submerged in the soothing warmth, I was just Mayte, a person deserving of care and comfort, not the commodity I had been reduced to in my life with Rosa. It was a reminder of the humanity Prince had seen in me, the humanity he was encouraging me to reclaim.

After the bath, I wrapped myself in a plush hotel robe, the fabric soft against my skin, a stark contrast to the rough texture of the costumes I was accustomed to wearing. Feeling refreshed and wrapped in warmth, I moved to the main room where a large TV sat like a promise of further escape.

I flicked through the channels, marveling at the variety, a luxury I had never possessed. From news channels broadcasting global events to movies and documentaries, the world opened up before me in flickering frames, each story a window into lives and places I'd only ever dreamed of. I settled on a classic movie, its plot a sweeping saga of love and adventure, the kind that seemed to mirror the dreams Prince and I had shared.

As the movie played, I found myself occasionally glancing around the room, each detail a reminder of the night's conversation. Prince's words echoed in my mind, reinforcing the sense of potential and hope he had instilled. It felt surreal, to be here, to be considering a future so different from the past I had accepted as my inevitable reality.

Eventually, the emotional and physical toll of the day caught up with me. The bed, with its crisp, clean sheets and soft pillows, invited me to rest, truly rest. As I lay down, the remnants of the film's orchestral score a gentle lullaby, I felt a peace I hadn't known in a long time.

My last conscious thought before sleep claimed me was a quiet hope, a silent prayer that perhaps, finally, I might be on the path to a new life. A life where I could dance for joy, not survival; where I could wake up in places like this not because someone had paid for my time, but because I had earned the right to be there, on my own terms. With a deep, contented sigh, I drifted off to sleep, the plush robe a soft embrace, the quiet hum of the city outside a distant, comforting murmur.

....

At precisely 10 o'clock, the sharp ring of the hotel phone cut through the serene silence of the room, jolting me from a restful slumber. Blinking against the morning light now spilling across the room, I reached for the receiver, my mind still foggy from sleep.

"Hello?" I answered, my voice groggy, the remnants of dreams still clinging to my thoughts.

"Mayte, it's Prince," came the reply, his voice bright and clear. "Good morning! I hope I didn't wake you."