Emo Trinity x Reader

Pete Wentz x Reader - Hotel in New York City

Requested on Tumblr
Warnings: Supernatural Stuff (?), Vampire!Pete
Word count: 2 150

When you had planned your backpack trip through the US, you probably should have searched for affordable hotels in New York City. NYC was the last stop on your tour and you had spent three nights here already but you wanted to spend the last night in Manhattan, going out or something. But now you were wandering through the busy streets while the night reached its dark fingers into the ravines between the sky scrapers and you still did not know where to stay the night. You honestly considered going to one of the 24h cafés which you had seen a few blocks down, when suddenly your eyes caught sight of an old neon sign, which announced proudly "The Night Palace". For a moment you wondered if this was some sort of strip club or brothel, but you came to the conclusion that it was unlikely since the sign would look in better shape, and also you could always leave if it turned out to be anything but a hotel. You took a deep breath and pushed open the wide, wooden door.

It was different than what you had expected. You had imagined an old wooden desk with an even older, grey haired lady who would ask you what you wanted in a raspy and rude voice. But instead it felt like you had just travelled in time back to the 1920s. The hall you entered was narrow but designed in a way that feigned a great room. There were balustrades on the walls at the heights of the second, third and fourth floor. The walls were mostly decorated with black wood and golden edges; the floor was of thick, red carped that muffled your steps as you approached the receptionist's desk. When you spied over the top of the desk, you saw a man, mid-thirties with long brown hair and beard sit behind the counter.

"Excuse me?" Your voice sounded strangely lost in this place. "I would like to ask how much a room is for one night."

The man looked up from the book he had been reading. He wore a name tag, telling you he was called Marcus. His eyes scanned your features carefully before he sighed and rolled his eyes at you. But he answered. "50 bucks a night for you."

You furrowed your eyebrows. Fifty dollars was an okay price, pretty okay to be honest. But he made it sound like the price was defined by the guest. But that was a problem for another day. Right now you were tired and wanted a bed. Forget the going out. You would go grab some Chinese or something and go to bed.

"I'd like the room please," you told Marcus.

He extended the hand and it took you a moment to realize he was asking for the money. Quickly you placed a fifty dollar bill in his hand and he handed you a key with the number thirteen. You were about to ask on which floor the room was, when Marcus snapped his fingers and a short, young man walked towards you hurriedly. He wore a black hotel porter uniform with a red collar, a white shirt and a black bow tie. He had short, dark brown hair and brown eyes. His skin seemed unhealthily pale and his glance at you was short. Quickly he picked up your backpack, which you had put down to take out your money, and motioned you to follow him. He led you up a tall staircase to the third floor, down several dark corridors before he finally stopped in front of a door with the number 13 on it. No way in hell you would have found it without help.

The man was about to turn away, when you spoke up. "Excuse me? Do you know a good place to eat around here?"

The hotel porter turned around, looking puzzled for a moment. "There's a good diner around the corner," he answered.

"Thank you," you quickly read the name on his jacket, "Pete."

He nodded and turned around. He was gone faster than you had thought possible.

Your room was dark and the lamp on the ceiling only shed dim, yellow light. But the bed seemed freshly made and you had your own bathroom.

You quickly showered, put on fresh clothes and headed out for dinner.