Just Wanna Be With You (Carlos)

C10: The Hotel

I ran all the way past the doorman holding the door open for me, not bothering to return his "hello." I ran past the bellhop offering an old couple's bags in the entrance. I ran past the overly expensive red chairs and matching rugs in the lobby. I ran all the way to the front desk, bumping into a very flustered middle-aged man.

"Oh, I am so sorry," I apologized. The man nodded his head, clearly not up for any conversation.

"Sir, what seems to be the problem?" The middle aged plump woman at the desk asked.

"I reserved the presidential sweet for myself and my, er, girlfriend for the weekend! When we got up there, two boys in the bed! One was talking on the phone and the other was tied up! Now, let me tell you something, I didn't request any male prostitutes, let alone gay ones-"

"Excuse me," I interrupted. The flustered old man turned around to look at me. The front desk lady breathed a sigh of relief.

"Yes?"

"What floor is your suite on?" I asked. Carlos had to be up there, right? He had to be talking about Carlos.

"The fourth, but I don't-"

"And what room were you in?" I was shaking now; the anticipation was killing me.

"127, but-"

"Thank you!" I called back as I ran for the elevator. I pushed a kid around my age out of the way before frantically pushing the 'up' button. After 6 and a half seconds of waiting, I pushed the still-confused boy out of the way once more and decided to take the stairs.

By the time i made it to the fourth floor, I was gasping for air and ready to pass out. Man, I need to get in shape.

I barged through the door once I caught my breath and scrambled to find room 127. There was a sign telling me rooms 1-110 were to the right and 111-220 were to the left. I took the left route and followed the rest of the signs to get to the room Carlos was in.

I ran up to the room, crashing into the door, and knocked on it furiously.

"Carlos! Carlos are you in there? Please! Carlos!" I screamed his name over and over again, full-on panic mode reached. I heard some muffled screams on the other side of the red door. It was then that I realized he was tied up and had no way of getting to the door. "I need a fucking key."

I looked around for a maid or someone who could let me in. I spotted a short hispanic lady vacuuming up a mess someone made.

"Carlos, I'll be right back. I need a key," I warned. I walked, trying not to seem to suspicious, to the maid. "Excuse me, ma'am?"

"Yes?" she answered, her accent heavy and thick.

"Do you have a key? So I can get into my room? I locked myself out! I'm so forgetful!" I lied.

"Yes," she answered. I led her to the room and she used her master key to let me in.

"Thank you so much," I said, trying to hide my excitement.

"Yes," she muttered.

I ran inside the room prepared to untie Carlos and hug him to death, but instead I was greeted with two boys; both of whom were a few years older than me. One of was tied up, as the man described, and the other still had his phone in his hand. The main concern was that both of them were wearing next to nothing.

"Oh my god you two are actually male prostitutes," I breathed.

"Strippers, actually," the non-tied-up one asked. He had an exotic accent I couldn't quite place. "Who did you think we were?"

"...no one."

He looked me up and down and nodded approvingly.

"If you're not doing anything later-"

I quickly exited the room, my face flushed a deep shade of pink as I passed the maid again. Thankfully she didn't look up at me.

I grabbed my cell phone and chucked it at the wall in a fit of rage. I sat down against the wall and picked up my phone, debating whether or not to call Harry and just scream. I decided against it.

I rode the way-too-slow elevator downstairs to the lobby and made the decision of trying my original idea.

~

I stood in line for what seemed like hours behind some guy who thankfully smelled really good. From what I could tell, he was handsome. At least from behind. His dark hair was long but not long enough to look gross. He was wearing a blazer and khakis. Maybe he was here on business.

Wait.

Dark hair? Blazer? Khakis?

"Harry?"