C.h -
Hotels, hotels, and more hotels. That's what life was. A show, a plane ride, and a hotel. All of it seemed to become a mundane routine of wants that became have to's. Being on the road was like permanently staring at four walls that seemed to shrink as time passed. After years of touring, the band was clearly losing steam so our manager suggested time off for all of us to 'regroup and reconnect' as he liked to say.
But too much time off was dangerous, especially in a hotel where it seemed as if the outside world has stopped around you. Where you fall into a regimen of room service, sleep, and mini bar alcohol. But it's not like we had a choice, and it's not like we would refuse king sized beds and swimming pools for a month.
•
All I could hear for the 5 minute walk to the front entrance was the sound of my suitcase rolling over the gravel. I looked behind me and observed the tired band members carrying pillows and duffle bags with headphones in their ears. I glanced up at the pale pink doors of the hotel.
"Punk rock." Someone mumbled behind me.
A door opened on the second level and a girl walked out with long light brown hair and a cigarette in between her fingers. She stood leaning against the balcony looking down at me. She smirked as I walked through the double doors losing sight of her pretty face.
The lobby smelled like cigars and alcohol with a tinge of something sweet. The boys and I glanced around observing the empty chairs and couches that seemed untouched. Our manager Alec walked over and handed us each a black key with a gold room number stamped on it.
"Separate rooms huh?" Michael spoke fiddling with the key between his fingers.
Alec crossed his arms. "1 month. Do you think you can do it boys?"
We all nodded in agreement. Sure we could do it.
Right?
