Maylor Oneshots

Hotel California

*smut warning*

1976

The '60s black Cadillac rode down the smooth, deserted road with ease. Cool California wind blew dark ringlets past the driver's face. The warm smell of colitas rose up through the air. With one hand hanging out the rolled down window, the curly haired man kept his weary gaze on the glowing horizon before him. The hand loosely gripping the steering wheel nearly slipped off as his head grew heavy and his sight grew dim. He knew he had to stop for the night. Ahead in the distance, he spotted the shimmering light of a lively building. A glowing red sign that read "Hotel California" sat upon the roof above many windowed levels.

The car swerved into the nearly packed parking lot before the hotel. The drowsy man took the key out of ignition after finding an empty spot beside a slick, red Mercedes Benz. He swung his backpack filled with extra clothes over his shoulder and stepped out of the car, the warm air hitting his face. Each relaxed step towards the hotel, the faint sound of music through the wide open doors became clearer. One step in the doorway on the smooth red carpet was all it took for the wave of cheap perfume and the smell of liquor to fill the man's sense of smell. A slim brunette women behind the dark front desk captured his attention with a wide smile, her eyes twinkling.

"Welcome to the Hotel California!" She greeted, her hands clasped together in front of her. "Would you like a room, sir?"

"Yes please. Just for one," The man spoke in a flat, tired voice.

"Alright, how many nights will you be staying with us?" The woman asked, opening a drawer in front of her and picking out a key.

"Uh just one night. That'll be just fine," the man replied, wearily rubbing his eyes with the back of his hand.

"That will be one hundred thirty for the night, sir," the woman said, placing a half filled out sheet of paper on the desk. "Fill out your name and the date on the next column, please."

The curly haired man nodded, not thinking twice of the expensive price. He shoved his hand in his back pocket for his wallet. He slipped it out and pulled out the right amount of money for the night before slamming it down on the desk before the woman. The woman took the bills gladly and stuffed it into the register. Bending over the scribbled over page, he took the pen beside it and lazily scribbled his own name down and the date. With a firm nod and tired smile toward the woman, he handed his bag to the bellboy standing patiently beside him. The young bellboy shyly smiled toward him before grabbing the bag and scurrying off.

An elongated sigh emitted from the tall man as he scanned around the lobby. Cushiony dark blue seats surrounded a thick column in the middle of the room. Vibrant green plants stood healthy in their tall black vases that were placed on either sides of a console table against the wall. Velvety purple curtains draped the open doorway of the back of the lobby, leading towards what the man assumed was the bar and pool. Curious, his steps lead him towards the area.

Each step closer, the music became clearer to his ears. The images of ecstatic faces glowed underneath the lavender hue of the sky. The turquoise colors from the pool reflected onto their bodies that were glimmering with sweet summer sweat. The man knew all too well that some danced to remember, and some danced to forget. He knew he would be dancing to simply escape.

Stepping from the carpet to the concrete, he felt alive. The wave of energy emitting from the dancing guests hit him like a tidal wave. He sauntered to the long bar, decorated by red fairy lights, that was beside the glowing blue pool. He pulled out a tall stool and slid onto it easily. Couples and friend groups chattering amongst the booming music were scattered. The people were either sat at the bar, wading in the pool, or talking and dancing in the surrounding area.
With a wave of his slender hand, the bartender came strolling over to the man with a kind smile on his face.