Just Watching The Football | Ricky Gervais X Stephen Merchant [REWRITE]

Chapter One

mars and jasper if you see this im sorry in advance.

They always said London was one of the most beautiful cities in the world. And, of course, they're not wrong. It is not only one of the most beautiful cities, but also one of the most exciting cities, most captivating, most touristy, most popular, most entertaining, most historical...

But this hotel.

This damn hotel.

This hotel resided in the shadows of the big city skyscrapers. If you saw it you wouldn't even believe it was in London. It looked like something straight out of a movie. A movie about gangsters and drug dealers and prostitutes, that is. Who would want to watch a movie like that?

There's no way to describe this hotel - or this part of town, for that mattee - without calling it disgusting and trashy. The neon signs that read "Vacancy" and "Laundromat Inside" flickered blue and pink in the twilight, nearly out of power from being on for decades. An old Pepsi machine with visible cobwebs stood near the reception office. It only had two stories, a singular flight of stairs, and a pool that looked like it hadn't been cleaned - or used - for a while. Rodents scurried in and out of trash bins in search of their next meal, and even they weren't too excited about their environment, it seemed.

This wasn't the hotel Ricky Gervais and Stephen Merchant asked for. This hotel was absolutely not to the standard of two well known and respected comedians.

But it's the one they got.

Ricky and Steve were to stay in this hotel because they were location scouting for a new project they were doing. They lived in their own flats in completely different parts of London (and London is a very big city, of course), so they needed to stay in a hotel to get to the places they needed to scout for quickly. Karl was never really interested in working on large-scale projects like movies with Ricky and Steve, so he opted to not help except for small jobs this time around.

Stephen parked his car and grabbed the keys before he and Ricky opened the doors and grabbed their bags from the trunk. The shorter, stouter man let out a sigh as he walked beside his friend. "Why here? Why couldn't we have booked somewhere nicer?"

"I know, I know. I've been out of work for quite a while now, I haven't found any auditions or job offerings. I'm skint right now, mate, this is all I could afford for a week's stay. I'm sorry," Steve answered, feeling slightly guilty. He was always a money cautious man.

"Steve, mate, you know and I know that I could have paid or lent you some of my money. I'm very wealthy, my friend. I could pay your niece and nephew's college! I already paid my oldest niece's tuition."

The gangly, tall man rolled his eyes as he opened the door to the reception office. "I know, Rick, I know you're rich. You remind me every day. And I know you would never lend me money for anything. Except maybe gas money."

Ricky shrugged nonchalantly, realizing Steve was right. Ricky spent most of his money on lavish and materialistic items, his expensive cigars, his wines and champagnes (most of his money went toward alcohol, to absolutely no one's surprise). He knew it was selfish of him to hog his money, and he hated that about himself. Despite his habits with money, he couldn't deny how he handled his finances. The money either goes to movie budgets or his taste for booze and tobacco. No in-between. Well, maybe groceries, rent, and taxes.

Stephen paid for the week's stay, and the receptionist gave him the room key. Brilliant. They got a second-story room. Maybe they could get a tiny glimpse of a view on the balcony. Stephen let out a deep sigh as he climbed the flight of stairs leading to the second floor. The two of them got to their room, and when they did, Ricky gave Steve a warm smile. "This is where the fun begins, I guess. Wanna make the most of this?"