Good Morning, Detroit || Eminem

Chapter 7: A Guest

The next day

It was my second day at the hotel. And to be honest, I loved it. The staff has been nothing but very nice to me, the food was amazing, I was feeling protected and undisturbed. I was starting to forget about the incident on the show, even though the image of Mitchell was still very clear in my head.

It was 9 PM already, I calculated while staring at the clock. I wasn't feeling any hunger in my stomach so I decided to skip on the restaurant and dinner. I hopped into the bathroom and started dreaming of the nice, soft bed that was waiting for me in the other corner of the hotel room.

The bathroom was actually very nice, it was covered in baby-blue tiles, porcelain flower vases were bringing a delicate touch to it. There was also a bathtub which was a huge plus for me. I quickly filled it up with warm water and threw some bath salts in it that made the water fuzzy and gave it a beautiful violet hue. I felt the aroma of lavender coming up to my nose and I sighed with relief. It was so good to be free from cameras, boyfriend and the overall burdens of fame.

I took off all my clothes - a shirt, pink skirt and jacket; I hadn't changed them since the morning show. There were still some blood stains onto my white shirt from what happened a day ago. I sat in the white porcelain bathtub and relaxed my back against the corner of it. The feeling was amazing. Warmness and wonderful smell of expensive bath products were tingling all my senses. The water was playfully splashing all around the bathtub with each movement of my legs and arms. I hadn't experienced that in a lot of time.

***

I was out of the bathroom, put my pajamas on and was about to hop onto the bed when I heard someone knocking on the door. Who was that, I thought and rolled my eyes.

"Who is it?" I asked while drying my hair with the white towel.

"Room service," I heard a serious male voice replying. I hadn't requested a room service, so it was weird, but I still decided to open the door. What was going to happen anyways?

At the door was standing a tall man, about 6'2, with a black beard, blue eyes and a nice smile drawn onto his face. He was wearing a white shirt under his bordeaux-colored hotel uniform, nicely polished black leather shoes and a badge that was saying "Andrew". He was standing behind a trolley full of yummy-looking goods such as cupcakes, chocolate cakes, muffins and a pot of tea.

"This is for you, miss Wood," he gave me something hidden under a plate cover. I took it from his hands and thanked him.

He was gone in a matter of seconds, ready to drop off the rest of the orders the other people at the hotel had made. I put the plate onto the table and removed the metal cover, revealing its contents: it was a puffy soufflé, temptingly flooding in melted chocolate, sprinkled with powdered sugar like snow and decorated with cranberries on the top. How do they even know my favorite dessert, I asked myself with a huge grin on my face, feeling my mouth filling up with saliva.

There also was a post card taped onto the cover:

"Compliment from the hotel for Mrs. Elizabeth Wood" I read aloud and smiled at myself. The staff sure was spoiling me.

I sat down on a chair behind the wooden table, grabbed the beautiful silver spoon that was engraved with the letter H, standing for Hilton, and just as I opened my mouth, ready to start enjoying the delicious-looking soufflé, someone knocked on my door again.

"WHAT NOW?!" I yelled, not realizing it was out loud. Another pet peeve of mine - I hate being disturbed while eating.

I furiously dropped the spoon full of melted chocolate, got up from the table and ran to the door. I opened it, expecting to see that room service guy again... Andrew, as I remembered the badge pinned onto his uniform jacket.