𝑫𝑬𝑴𝑶𝑳𝑰𝑻𝑰𝑶𝑵 𝑳𝑶𝑽𝑬𝑹𝑺 ▹ [ finn wolfhard imagines ]

𝐓𝐖𝐎.

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❝ 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞—𝐬𝐭𝐫𝐮𝐜𝐤 𝐡𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐥 ❞

➴ 𝙛𝙞𝙣𝙣 𝙬. + 𝙛𝙚𝙢 𝙧𝙚𝙖𝙙𝙚𝙧
rockstars in 1970s AU

warning: mentions of drugs
/ drug use, very hetero

aged up

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┍━━━━･ﾟ:*  ☽ ❂ ☾  *:･ﾟ━━━━┑

Finn Wolfhard has it all, fame, fortune and women and even men on their knees with hands clasped in front of their chests willing to give everything up just to be with him, but after all there's something that bothers him internally, it seems like he misses and he longs for someone that he never knew.

Their manager gleefully informed them that each one of them will be get their own suites in the infamous Chelsea Hotel, where their fellow "rockstars" stay in too. Finn is a hundred percent sure that in less than few hours there'll be fans scattered around in the hotel lobby, holding something for them to sign on. It's not he hates them, they simply didn't know the definition of respecting someone else's privacy, of course he'll receive snarky remarks that they're the reason why he's in the peak of the industry. That's why he chooses to isolate himself and let the three others handle when it comes to this situation, he even likes it more because fans getting his autograph is a rarity which causes commotions and fights (in their very last venue, he heard that fans were shouting at each other when they found out that this lucky bastard got an autograph of him). He also likes how the media perceive him, a mysterious and overall a detestable person.

All of them were in the same floor and it's already stressing Finn out, Jack, will probably bring a woman or two over his suite and then after that women or men will soon be flooding their rooms individually. Finn doesn't trust Jack, at all.

He didn't bother to go up with them (they're probably launching another lie about him to their visitors that will earn snickers and other awful side comments), instead, he busies himself getting drunk in the bar hidden amongst the non VIPS, get himself a drink and probably refresh his mind before he hears that loud banging, moaning and braggadocios from people he might know.

He sat himself on a bar stool, staring at his half-empty glass of honey colored liquor, he slightly lifts and tilts it watching the liquid follow the angle of the glass. He crane his neck and his gaze fell on an evident woman figure that restocks the bottles assiduously. He didn't know how long he has been "studying" the woman when she face him, eyebrows knotted.

"You've been looking at me weirdly, dude." spoke the woman behind the counter as she places another glass for display, he is clueless why the woman was cognizant of his mindless staring, he probably was drowning himself in a daydream that is now forgotten. The bar is deserted and he's thankful because if not, probably a lot people will be weirded out by him.

"Sorry, just the first time I saw a woman, y'know, bartending," he finishes his sentence taking a sip from his liquor he didn't bother to learn the name of.

The woman simply smirks at his ignorance and continues to restack the bottles of liquors.

"You seem to be enjoying your job," Finn says conversationally, drunk or not drunk, he's a piece of an awkward shit. Thankfully she didn't see him flinching.

"I do," she smiles fondly turning to him and advances a few steps, "minus the asshole customers," she pauses leaning towards him, "are you one of them too?" she wonders aloud.

Finn leaned back avoiding the contact, it's not he doesn't want it but, "No-no, I'm not. I'm actually a kind person." he laughs, he is unaware if that's a half lie.

"I can see," she chuckles, with that she turns her back again to fetch another bottle, the one Finn had been drinking since he sat there. "here, get some more, you seem to be stressing over."

"How did you know?"

"Well your bandmates are pain in the fucking ass, a few hours ago, your bassist, John? Jack?– Yes him, he bought a fuck ton of coke from a friend of mine. My friend almost punched him. Told him he smelled like dog shit." the woman laughs, gesturing wildly.

"Oh," Finn breathes, "yes he is."

The night went through a mindless chatter between the two of them, telling each other about their childhood, the woman telling about her working experience in Chelsea and him recalling his heartbreaks and turning them into songs. She seems to be an interesting lady, he thought halfway through the night (yes, he's that dumb).

The grandfather clock that is out of place reads 3:30 AM when the woman came to stop, her eyes wide when she glanced at the clock one more time. "Sorry! I gotta go, my shift's over." she smiles sheepishly then apologetically.

"No," Finn stops her, raising his hand motioning her stop, "come with me," he points his index fingers upwards, "in my room."

She looks breathless, then nods. "Wait, gotta get my stuff, I'll be right back, sweetheart." she blows a kiss before disappearing to what Finn thinks a room for staff.

It wasn't long enough before she came back, now not enclosed between the bar counter. She's carrying a small backpack with her which is lazily hung on her left shoulder. She steps and grabs Finn's hand before leading themselves into the hotel elevator.

Finn lets out a sound of protest, he don't wanna leave the glasses unattended, and the empty liquor bottle too.

"Don't bother, let the next person handle that." she laughs in a manner that makes her sound like a teenage rebel. She grabs Finn's hand and leads themselves towards the elevator.

It's only the two of them in there if not awkward, a companionable silence, Finn's anxious what'll happen next, but this woman seems to know what she's doing, she has her life together.

The elevator jerked to a stop, it's surprisingly ugly for a hotel with a lot of famous people it in.

They step out of the elevator, her hand still clasped into his, she looks around, a joyful glint in her eyes. She haven't been here before, Finn notes.

"Does the owner doesn't let the staff go here?"

"No," she turns around, frowning, "well unless if you're in the room service then yes."

"Then you're forbidden to be here." he jokes

"Yes, but I'm no staff here once I finish my shift, and a costumer invited me so... "

"Oh shut up." He is now leading her towards his room. She cheers happily and compliments the carpet which he found disturbingly hideous.

A thought strike him as he unlock the door, she seems like the woman i can love, Finn supposes.

┕━━━━･ﾟ:*  ☽ ❂ ☾  *:･ﾟ━━━━┙

𝖒𝖆𝖗𝖈𝖊𝖑𝖎𝖓𝖊 𝖘𝖕𝖊𝖆𝖐𝖘 !
┕━ so first and foremost
         this is garbage but
         guess what im making
         a part two of this :D
         definitely inspired by
         Leonard Cohen's
         Chelsea Hotel and
         The Heart Rate of a
         Mouse by Anna Green.
┕━ please expect that i'll
         be unable to to update
         this november because
         of school :<
┕━ im sorry for doing
         jack dirty here lmao &
         for the lameass title
         im feeling lazy to come
         up with titles
┕━ and i'm also changing
         the layout lmao
┕━ unedited bc im garbage

-𝖋𝖎𝖗𝖊𝖘𝖎𝖉𝖊 | 𝖓𝖔𝖛𝖊𝖒𝖇𝖊𝖗 2019