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by Brooke
Rated: 18+ · Monologue · Action/Adventure · #2267783
A three star hotel love story between two dysfunctional adults having a baby
She met her boyfriend while he was in jail. Honestly. You can’t even make this story up. He was in jail- on weapons charges, or armed robbery this time. Something like that. And she was visiting another guy and he was actually her boyfriend at the time. She was always in love with him but that’s getting way ahead of the story for right now.
He was also the father of her daughter. She had a son and daughter from previous relationships but her daughter was her favourite, she had assured me before. Her daughter’s father would also, always be her favourite.
I met her when she was only a few months pregnant, I didn’t even realize it right away. Nor do I remember the exact time I first realized she was pregnant. I do remember my reaction though. Sorrow for that child for sure.
She was obviously a user. Maybe a past user, I wasn’t sure. The very recent past for sure. She had sores on her face still. And sometimes they would open up and bleed. She didn’t seem too self-conscious about it, even though she had mentioned it them to me before. She would put bandaids over the open sores on her face when the bled.
He was comfortable in the shadows, I noticed that right away. Not necessarily in her shadow but just shadows in general. But I misjudged him because of his size. And he had a very calm demeanour.
I worked nights, so the longer I worked there, the more I got to know them. It wasn’t even willingly. They were night owls. They would come in and out at all hours of the night. Their diet must have been atrocious because they had no microwave in their room, just a small fridge. I think. They were always coming to the desktop buy their little treats from the snack shop. He loved Twinkies, At first, I charged them for everything. But as time went on, I gave them things for free. Then, the more I started to hate my job, I stopped charging them altogether.
Compared to him, she was wild. Unapologetic and unabashed. I remember her storming out of the back door of hotel lobby one time. In sandals pyjamas, and with a towel on her head. I remember her swinging her arms too, although my memory may have just made that up. That also could have just been how sloppy she was walking.
Also, there room was on the second floor at that time. So she had a journey and an elevator ride looking like that. I don’t know where she was going and I don’t remember her coming back in that time.
It’s weird because as messy as they both are, they both come from families with a lot of money. They both had kids from previous relationships. And both of their families were looking after those kids. His dad had his son and her mom had her daughter. She also had a son who she lost custody of too, but the first dad took him.
Every time they argued, she ran to her mom. Neither of them drove, so I came to recognize the car who mom drove. The two of them walked or took cabs everywhere they went. He began to tell stories about their walks around town. The more I started to talk to them, the more I liked him. He had a full time job and was a chef. He worked as a kitchen supervisor and seemed to really take pride in her job.
Although the more I talked to them and the more I learned, the more questions I had. Like, how can you be a chef and not have a kitchen? And why are you living in a hotel room?
And why didn’t she work? Or live with her mom?
The more I got to know them, the more she began to search me out. To talk and tell stories. I learned he never wanted to have sex with her anymore.
And that she loved crack. That’s exactly what and how she told that to me.
She confided in me about being in love with her daughter’s dad still. That’s who she was visiting in jail when she met her current boyfriend.
He told me when he saw her, even though she was visiting her boyfriend, he said to his mom I’m going to have a baby with that girl one day.
And then as soon as he got out, he told me he found her, and now they are.
Living in a hotel.
Once he told me that he knew she cheated on him before. It was with that ex she was still in love with. I think he was trying to get information out of me. To see if I knew anything. And he was trying to be smart about it. Except I was smarter and could see what he was doing. And I really didn’t know if she was fucking the ex but I knew she was in love with him. So was that really any better to say? I just said nothing.
Soon he came down to talk to me. Without her. He told me she made him quit his job. I couldn’t believe it because he had a really good job. But what’s it my place to say anything. I guess she was stalking him and always accusing him of cheating of her. He said her insecurities only stemmed from her transgressions, not his.
He told me she was driving him crazy. He asked if anyone ever complained about them fighting. Or if anyone ever heard anything. He said he gets so mad he wants to choke her out. Sometimes he has to leave so he doesn’t hurt her.
I had seen him storm out of the hotel before. He would usually take the stairs and go out the back door, with his head down.
But I never knew it was that bad.
She has always seemed like the loose cannon out of the two of them. The loud one who would push and push and push, just to get a reaction. A natural born instigator. But irrational. And heavily drug affected from use of abuse.
Soon, he stopped stopping at the desk to talk to me. Even on days when he knew I was working. When he entered the hotel, I could tell he specifically avoided looking towards me.
Secretly, I wondered if he had gotten in trouble from his girlfriend and wasn’t allowed to talk to me. But deep down, I knew it was something else.
One night, he brought some air soft rifles to the desk to ask me and d about painting them. He said they weren’t real and he jut wanted to go out back and paint them so he could sell them. I was heading home and D said he didn’t mind, so I never thought anything of it again.
Once, he showed me a watch he found. But it did look “found”- it was dirty, scratched, banged up and just not that valuable. He didn’t even seem to understand how worthless the name brand was. 
 They were the only constant working nights at that hotel. Every weekend, and especially through the summer, brought new people. I worked alone, so sometimes I would complain to them about the shit I had to deal with.
She would always volunteer him as tribute. Oh my god, she would say. You should just call us. Call the room. Knock on the door. He loves to fight. He needs to fight. One time, she even gave me his cell phone number to call him if a guest ever got unruly.
But how unprofessional. To call one guest to essentially be my “bodyguard” over another guest. And his girlfriend encouraging this. I felt like that would only infuse a situation that I was trying to deescalate. I always politely declined.
One time, we found out that we both knew the guy that sold my brother the drugs that killed him. He wrote me a note offering to take care of him.
Again, I politely ignored.
I knew this guy had a rap sheet and thought everyone was scared of him but all I saw was a 5’5”, scrawny white dude that was probably, half my size.
But even though I wouldn’t call on him, it didn’t change the fact that doing noise complaints and knocking on guests doors by myself, was scary.
And that’s why I always remember what happened that night.
Because I should have been the one to knock on their door about that noise complaint. But the woman in the room next door never called me. She called 911. Which was also unheard of. I don’t know if it was because of what she heard next door that she called 911 instead of down to me at the front desk. Did she know it was only me? I remember the week before, she had several noise complaints and I had to go up to her room. Did she remember me? Or was what she heard just that bad? I always wanted to ask her after but I just let it go.
It had been such a quiet Saturday night and those were so rare. I don’t remember anything happening and all I could think about was getting off work at 7 am and going to see Nathan. I was even texting him at that point, when I looked over and there was an ambulance sitting in our check in zone.
No lights on and no other cop cars. I didn’t even see the actual paramedics.
It’s a domestic, I don’t know why but I immediately thought that. I even texted it.
When they entered, they asked about the room and it was the same woman that I had went up to last week, so I rolled my eyes at them about her. They were pretty panicked about what was said on the 911 call and wanted me to call up to the room to see if it was safe for them to go up.
I called up to the woman's room. Maybe i was snippy- I don't remember. I really didn't even know what to say. It took me a second to realize, it wasn’t her that was called on. She called on her neighbours. She told me she heard a man threatening to choke the woman. She heard her be thrown against the wall and was screaming for him to stop.
I asked her what room, wrote down the number, and handed the slip of paper to the cops that were arriving.
The paramedics followed the police into the elevator and up to the fourth floor.
I watched them walk down the hall, until they were out of sight.
In my head, I can put together what happened next.
The police knocked on the door. She was sitting in her room, absolutely distraught. Probably crying. At this point, she is a full nine months pregnant, due in just weeks. She hears the knock and thinking it’s me, she swings the door open.
Only its not me. Because almost any other person would have called down to the front desk to report a noise complaint. And they knew I was working and were expecting I would be called and come up first.
So she swings the door open and is faced with three cops and two paramedics.
And they are faced with multiple life-like, replica weapons. This gives them permission to poke around and they find fentanyl and a bunch of other drugs,
He’s already taken off, out the back door. She gets arrested and taken out of the hotel with her hands cuffed behind her back and her big old belly out in front.
© Copyright 2022 Brooke (brookem2017 at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
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Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/2267783-Sonny--Cher