The Self-conscious Submissive

Homeless

Ok, no more distractions we're back to our regularly scheduled program.

P.S. Don't be mad at me I have no control over these characters. 

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-Monica

I'm heading back to the hotel after my unsuccessful attempt at going apartment hunting. It's been a full day since Trinity has called me a million times since she realized I had left. I couldn't bring myself to answer her calls though I didn't want her to attempt to talk me into coming back. I just needed time to get my mind right and find a place to live and then I'll talk to her and hopefully convince her to move in with me. I scroll through my phone leaving all her messages unread and try not to feel away at the fact that Dylan hasn't contacted me. Not that I want her to.

I pull up to Crowne Hotel one of the nicest hotels in the area. I decided after everything went down that I deserved to live in a little bit of luxury to help me destress, at least for a few days then I'll check myself into a cheaper one or an extended stay later if need be. I planned on having things figured out with an apartment soon, so I can't spend all my money on expensive hotels. 

 When I got to the hotel I rode the elevator up to the 3rd floor and tapped the key to room 308 but it didn't unlock. That's weird I say tapping my card again. I know this is the right room I look at the key sleeve and 308 is written clearly on it. I jiggle the knob but it doesn't open. I look down the hall as if some employee will magically appear and open the door for me, but no luck.

After a few more tries I decide to go to the front desk to see if they'll give me a new key. It probably deactivated being so close to my phone or whatever science stuff that makes that happen.

I take the elevator back downstairs to the lobby and walk up to the front desk. The lobby in the Crowne is nothing to sneeze at. The hotel's entry doors had black-out glass so you couldn't even see inside, because once you were inside you felt like royalty. The entire room was purple and gold with a black carpet laced with gold fringe that led to the front desk, the room was decorated with golden crowns on the walls, a large flowing fountain sat as a centerpiece in the room, and crystal chandeliers sparkled on the ceiling.

When I say I spent a little extra money I mean it, it was probably insane to do so but I was feeling emotional and dramatic and I needed to do something to sedate that feeling. But as expensive as these rooms were a night the fact that the key wasn't working kind of disappointed me.

I walked the black carpet to the front desk and a man maybe in his late 20s wearing a gold accented vest, with a name tag that said Micheal looked up and gave me a polite customer service smile when I walked up.

"Good Evening are we Checking in?" he asks.

"Good evening Micheal, how are you doing?" I say returning his smile. 

His smile widens at the use of his name morphing to an actual genuine one showing his teeth. "I'm well thank you, ma'am. How can I help you?"

"I'm actually having a little trouble and was hoping you could help. I'm staying in room 308, but theres a problem with my key. Is it possible to get a replacement," I ask. 

He gives me flustered embarrassment that something so inconvenient could happen at this fine establishment, "Oh, I see I'm sorry about that. May I see the key so I can check to see what the problem is," he asks holding out his hand. 

I hand him the key and he takes it and turns to his computer. He taps it on some device and a negative buzzing sound goes off. His face turns into a frown and he looks at his computer presses a few keys looks at the screen then up at me and back to the computer. He picks up his phone and makes a call asking for Mr. Branson to come to the front.