Post by tritch on Jun 27, 2017 17:33:40 GMT
The automatic doors slid open as he approached, running a free hand through his loose hair as his other hand dragged a wheeled duffel bag behind him. He smiled and nodded at the doorman, who welcomed him back by name, a fact that made him wince.
“Welcome back, Mr. Caine,” a voice called from behind the front desk as Z tried to rush through the lobby. “Um, excuse me, Mr. Caine, a word?”
He heard the eager voice call out just as he disappeared down the hallway. Stopping abruptly, a sigh could be heard from the voice back in the hallway. His shoulders slumped as his head tilted down and a sigh escaped his own lips. Pivoting, he peeked his head back around the corner. “Yeah?”
“Oh, great, thank you,” the feminine figure behind the counter beckoned him over, to which he sighed a bit under his breath again as he gathered his bag. She was at least a decade older than him, but wasn’t old per say. He noticed she often worked the desk on weekday mornings, though he didn’t know when she started or left. He rarely paid her any mind.
“What’s going on?” He asked as he took off his sunglasses, setting them on the counter and looking into her eyes for the first time. There was some sort of sorrow in them, and she bit her bottom lip very subtly as she typed something on her computer. This caused his head to tilt to the side a bit, an eyebrow quirking
“We have appreciated your business these past three months. We’ve had no complaints from other guests or staff, you’ve kept to yourself, and have been a model guest here at the hotel,” her eyes looked away from his again, as she pretended to scan something on the screen. Z’s eyes narrowed, and his hands started to shake. He sensed a but coming on. “But, as I stated, it’s been three months. A bit over, in fact, and unfortunately we’re not an apartment building.”
Z laughed at this, shaking his head and breathing heavily as he looked down, fingers curling into a fist. She pulled out several brochures, for apartment buildings and realtors.
“We’re very sorry, but we’re going to have to ask you to check out tomorrow morning. We’ve put together this inform-” before she can finish, Z swipes at the top of the counter, grabbing all of the information in a tightly-held fist as he storms off towards the elevators. The lady behind the counter jumps a bit at the sudden movement, having noticed the clenched fists and veins popping out of his neck.
As Z reached his room on the second story of the quaint motel, he slammed the door loudly behind him, and quickly fell against it, slowly sliding all the way down to a seated position. His head fell to a resting position on his forehead, fingers embedded in his hair, and his other arm pulled his knees into his chest as he sighed loudly, eyes beginning to water.
He pulled out his phone, scrolling through the contacts until he came across one in particular, “Tommy Boy.” He set the phone on the floor as he adjusted his position to wrap both arms around his legs, pulling his knees in even tighter and resting his head on the top of his knees as he stared down at the picture of his best friend on the screen.
Tommy was angry at him. Hunter decided to finally branch out and try his hand at wrestling, the thing that initially brought them together, and Tommy took it as a stab in the back. Z was going to showcase everything Tommy had taught him, and for some reason that made him angry? Hunter knew Tommy’s mind didn’t operate like most normal people. He figured he’d be upset at first, at losing his personal assistant. But to hold onto the grudge for three months? With no word outside of a handful of obvious jabs on Twitter?
It was crushing. Tommy didn’t think for one second that he wasn’t the only person losing someone. He didn’t think for one second that Hunter was stepping into something new for the first time, and instead of offering him support he left him to do it completely alone. Hunter finally looked away from the photo on the phone, burying his head between his legs as the tears began to fall more freely.
Completely alone.
“Welcome back, Mr. Caine,” a voice called from behind the front desk as Z tried to rush through the lobby. “Um, excuse me, Mr. Caine, a word?”
He heard the eager voice call out just as he disappeared down the hallway. Stopping abruptly, a sigh could be heard from the voice back in the hallway. His shoulders slumped as his head tilted down and a sigh escaped his own lips. Pivoting, he peeked his head back around the corner. “Yeah?”
“Oh, great, thank you,” the feminine figure behind the counter beckoned him over, to which he sighed a bit under his breath again as he gathered his bag. She was at least a decade older than him, but wasn’t old per say. He noticed she often worked the desk on weekday mornings, though he didn’t know when she started or left. He rarely paid her any mind.
“What’s going on?” He asked as he took off his sunglasses, setting them on the counter and looking into her eyes for the first time. There was some sort of sorrow in them, and she bit her bottom lip very subtly as she typed something on her computer. This caused his head to tilt to the side a bit, an eyebrow quirking
“We have appreciated your business these past three months. We’ve had no complaints from other guests or staff, you’ve kept to yourself, and have been a model guest here at the hotel,” her eyes looked away from his again, as she pretended to scan something on the screen. Z’s eyes narrowed, and his hands started to shake. He sensed a but coming on. “But, as I stated, it’s been three months. A bit over, in fact, and unfortunately we’re not an apartment building.”
Z laughed at this, shaking his head and breathing heavily as he looked down, fingers curling into a fist. She pulled out several brochures, for apartment buildings and realtors.
“We’re very sorry, but we’re going to have to ask you to check out tomorrow morning. We’ve put together this inform-” before she can finish, Z swipes at the top of the counter, grabbing all of the information in a tightly-held fist as he storms off towards the elevators. The lady behind the counter jumps a bit at the sudden movement, having noticed the clenched fists and veins popping out of his neck.
As Z reached his room on the second story of the quaint motel, he slammed the door loudly behind him, and quickly fell against it, slowly sliding all the way down to a seated position. His head fell to a resting position on his forehead, fingers embedded in his hair, and his other arm pulled his knees into his chest as he sighed loudly, eyes beginning to water.
He pulled out his phone, scrolling through the contacts until he came across one in particular, “Tommy Boy.” He set the phone on the floor as he adjusted his position to wrap both arms around his legs, pulling his knees in even tighter and resting his head on the top of his knees as he stared down at the picture of his best friend on the screen.
Tommy was angry at him. Hunter decided to finally branch out and try his hand at wrestling, the thing that initially brought them together, and Tommy took it as a stab in the back. Z was going to showcase everything Tommy had taught him, and for some reason that made him angry? Hunter knew Tommy’s mind didn’t operate like most normal people. He figured he’d be upset at first, at losing his personal assistant. But to hold onto the grudge for three months? With no word outside of a handful of obvious jabs on Twitter?
It was crushing. Tommy didn’t think for one second that he wasn’t the only person losing someone. He didn’t think for one second that Hunter was stepping into something new for the first time, and instead of offering him support he left him to do it completely alone. Hunter finally looked away from the photo on the phone, burying his head between his legs as the tears began to fall more freely.
Completely alone.