Okay, maybe the sun is my friend, I amend as I tug the curtains open the morning after my arrival at the hotel. While the window of my second floor room offers a not-so-glorious view of the parking lot, the sun's rays stream through it to warm my face in a gentle 'good morning.'
I turn away from the window, my eyes flitting over to the fluffy black void curled up on top of the bed. As I watch, the cat stretches with a squeaky purr, his yellow eyes blinking open. I step closer to rub his chin.
"You hungry?" I murmur as he leans into my touch. As should be expected, Hazard doesn't voice a reply; he just blinks up at me, still purring quietly.
I chuckle and wander over to the side of the room where the tote bag containing the cat's supplies lies. I had set up his litter box and water bowl in the bathroom last night; now, I take out his food bowl and the large plastic container holding his dry food. While I normally feed him a mix of wet and dry food, it's easier—and not as heavy—to just bring the dry mix when traveling.
I pour some of the food into his bowl. As soon as the melodic tinkling of the kibble hitting the metal dish rings out through the room, Hazard leaps off of the bed with a chirp and trots over, his tail held high.
"Not so sleepy anymore?" I tease with a laugh as he dips his head into the bowl and immediately starts eating. I stroke his back before straightening up, closing the food container and tucking it back into the tote bag.
As I sit down on the edge of the bed and pull out my phone, my eyes light on several text notifications—all from my friend and sent within the last few minutes.
Yasmin: how's your vacation so far??
Yasmin: and how's best boy hazard??
Yasmin: jealous I'm not there with you!!
She's attached a photo of herself, her bottom lip stuck out in an exaggerated pout. I chuckle, opening the conversation and typing back a response.
Me: Not too exciting so far, I just got here last night
Me: Hazard's doing well, I swear he's been sleeping most of the time lol. He's enjoying his food now tho!
I send her a photo of the cat, who's still chowing down. Yasmin immediately likes the photo and replies with several lines' worth of emojis.
Yasmin: god i love him so much
Yasmin: have to get back to work unfortunately, jared's going to kill me otherwise ughh
Yasmin: video call tmrw?
I roll my eyes. While my friend may be exaggerating a little, her boss isn't the nicest guy I've met. I've told her time and time again that she can just find a better, non-Jared-filled, job—there are plenty of other places to make minimum wage—but Yasmin still sticks around. It's probably the free ice cream—the one benefit she seems to get from working at the run-down parlor known as Sweet Scoops.
Me: Sounds good, good luck Yas!
Yasmin: thank youuu, I'll need it
Yasmin: talk to you soon!! <3
I slip my phone into my pocket with a small smile. Hazard has taken a pause from eating and is now wandering around the room, tentatively poking at everything he sees. I chuckle, deciding to snap a few photos to send to Yasmin.
As I settle back onto the mattress to contemplate what to do with my unusually work-free day, I begin to absentmindedly scroll through Instagram. I've never had an especially public life myself. I've posted exactly once: a dump of photos from my graduation two years ago. Other than that, my only real reason for having the app in the first place is to try not to feel so out of touch with the world. That happens a lot.
I tap through a few of my friends' stories before I find myself in a doom scroll through the app's reels. I rarely watch them through them in their full length; after I hear the first line, I almost always scroll to the next.
"Three things you didn't know about—" Nope, I know them. Thanks.
"Here's how to make the viral—" That looks disgusting.
"Come with me to prank my—" No prank I've ever seen has had a positive result. Pass.
"Four movies coming out in—" I've already seen all the trailers.
I stop at the next video I see. It's a clip of someone at a recent concert—standing just in front of the stage, from the looks of it. While the setup looks to be that of a rock band, the lights are—miraculously—not flashing as the members play. A slower song, I guess. I go rigid as the lyrics begin and I hear the lead singer's voice.
"Been down in the mines for oh so long,
"Miss the feel of the wind and the sun.
"But I dug through earth when I heard your song,
"And it's then I realized that I was done..."
I pause the video as the person filming shakily zooms in, just enough to catch a glimpse of the lead singer's face. Dyed red hair, leather jacket, piercings glinting in the light... I only need a quick look at the blurry words of the band's name lit up behind him to confirm exactly who it is. Axel. Fucking. Reed.
I stare at the paused screen for a moment before setting my phone aside with a grunt. It's bad enough I have to see his face every time I open a social media app, but do I seriously have to see him in person, too? The thought makes me grimace, displeased. Well... It's a big enough hotel. What are the chances that I'll actually come face to face with him?
I stand up. "Get your shit together, Nikolas." I wander over to the mirror in the corner of the room, pointing an accusatory finger at my reflection. "You need to go outside and chill out. Maybe... Read a book? Yeah, let's do that."
I glance at my stained tank top and gym shorts. But first, clothes.
◦✭◦
Ten minutes later, I've changed into a pair of cargo shorts and a plain t-shirt, my binder tucked underneath. I stare at my reflection in the bathroom mirror, self-consciously smoothing my chest. I repeat the motion again and again before eventually caving and grabbing my hoodie. On the days my bound chest doesn't feel flat enough, I know I can hide in its baggy layers. I'll be sweating in the heat, but... Oh well.
Heaving a sigh, I exit the bathroom and dig through my duffel bag to find the book I packed. It's a romance novel Yasmin recommended. While it's not my go-to genre, it seemed like it would be nice for casual vacation reading—and my friend would never let me hear the last of it if I declined her suggestion without giving it a try.
Hazard is curled up on the bed when I finish, already back to sleep after his breakfast. I stroke his side and he rolls over, stretching. I chuckle as his eyes flicker briefly open before shutting again.
"I'll see you soon." I promise the cat as I straighten up and wander toward the door. Hazard doesn't even bother to raise his head. A smile twitches its way onto my lips as I leave the room.
I find myself headed downstairs, following the signs directing hotel guests to the pool. At the very least, there should be chairs outside for me to sit and read—in the shade, if I'm lucky.
As I exit the hotel lobby through a door labeled POOL in bold, shiny lettering, I feel the full heat of the sun beating down on me. Yeah, I'm going to be sweating. I shrug it off as I eye the poolside. The pool itself is reasonably large, taking the shape of several overlapping ovals with a wide set of steps on one end and a gradually declining ramp on another of its sides. The water reflects the sunlight right back at me, shimmering in its unnatural, chemically controlled blue. A bubbling hot tub sits separate from the pool, temporarily in the shade of the building.
Fortunately, it seems to be early enough in the day for the poolside to be practically empty—all except for a lone couple that wades in the shallows and an older man soaking in the hot tub. No children, no rowdy guests, no chaos. Perfect.
I locate an empty lounge chair under a green canvas umbrella and sink into it, adjusting the incline of the chair's back. I open my book and lean back, breathing out a sigh. For a moment, the heat is made tolerable by a light breeze that ruffles my hair and causes the pages of my book to flutter. Y'know, I think I could get used to this.
I hardly get through a couple of paragraphs before I'm interrupted by a ginormous splash in the pool in front of me. Chlorinated water drenches the ground and speckles my legs—though, thankfully, the book in my hands survived the onslaught. I lower it, my eyebrows furrowed as I ready myself to spit out a nasty comment to whatever grubby little kid decided to cannonball into the pool.
Instead, my narrowed eyes land on a head popping out of the water. With his knowing grin and locks of dyed—albeit fading—red hair, I'd recognize the boy anywhere. Of fucking course he's here.
Axel Reed whoops loudly as he begins to paddle around the pool on his back, making no effort to silence his splashy strokes. The population of the previously empty pool seems to have skyrocketed in the few minutes since the celebrity entered. A crowd of people—mostly college age or freshly out, by the looks of it—is laughing along with him, jumping into the pool or stripping into their swimwear as they prepare to. Someone seems to have brought a foam football, and the pool-goers have quickly organized themselves into a lopsided circle to toss it around. Every time someone catches it, a chorus of cheers rings through the air.
I try to ignore the noise and go back to my book, though I hardly get the chance to. I silently curse the universe—or whatever higher powers decided to never give me a break—as the foam football comes flying my way in all its eye-assaulting, neon green glory.
I instinctively brace myself as the ball soars through the air, hitting the pool deck and skidding towards my chair. It bumps into one of its legs, spinning to a stop. A dozen heads turn my way.
"C'mon, throw it back, dude!"
"Give us back our ball!"
I stare in silence for a moment, an embarrassed flush heating my cheeks at the sudden attention and demands of the pool-goers. A few of them are already growing frustrated, slapping the surface of the water and muttering to each other as they scoff at me. What a bunch of jerks.
As I reluctantly crouch to collect their ball, Axel's brown eyes meet my blue ones. He flashes me a grin, raising his hands to catch the ball he seems to expect me to throw. If he recognizes me, he doesn't seem to remember our falling out. I frown and toss the foam football in the pool's general direction, not caring who catches it or if it heads their way at all.
Still, the ball must end up back in the water, because the swimmers' laughter strikes back up a moment later as they resume their game. I sink back into the lounge chair, opening my book back up to the place where I left off.
A shout distracts me once more. "Axel, go long!"
I glance up just in time to see the boy leaping out of the water to catch the foam football. I scramble out of my seat, but not quickly enough to dodge the chlorinated tsunami that comes flying toward me. I can do little but yelp in surprise as the water soaks my legs and sweatshirt, splattering the pages of the book in my hands.
Swiping specks of water from my cheeks, I whip my head up. Yeah, that's it.
"Who the hell do you think you are?" I growl. My change in tone seems to have attracted the attention of the pool-goers. Axel, clinging to the edge of the pool from where he successfully caught the ball in one hand, watches me with wide eyes. I fix my stare on him as I stand, wringing the water from my sweatshirt.
"Just because you've got some sort of celebrity status does not give you an excuse to be such an ignorant asshole to the people around you," I continue, my voice only rising in volume. "I get it that you want attention and you somehow think you're above everybody else, but there's a little thing called 'basic human decency' that even you, O High and Mighty Axel Reed, still have to follow."
Axel is silent as he continues to stare at me from the pool. I relish the shock on his face as I huff, pivoting on my feet to stalk back into the hotel. A few of the other pool-goers whistle and whoop, their chuckling carried with me as I make my exit.