The driver sends me a nod and returns to the limo, leaving me alone on the sidewalk. But something tells me no one is ever alone in this city. There’s magic on every street corner: music, lights, and swarms of people, always watching, moving to the pulse of Hollywood’s steady rhythm.
I heave in another breath and make my way to the main entrance. My phone buzzes from my back pocket as I check in with the receptionist.
Our family group chat is going off like a rocket.
Mom: The app says you touched down! Are you safe?
Dad: Did you meet any celebrities yet?
Joplin: Sorry, Mom and Dad are unraveling. I’m trying over here.
Mom: Give us a call as soon as you’re free.
A photo of Emmy the cow loads a few seconds later.
Dad: Emmy says you’re a moo-vie star.
Dear God.
Distracted, I try my best to multitask at the check-in desk.
“Staying for two nights?” a woman with a pristine blond bun inquires, tapping away at her keyboard.
Joplin: Udderly ridiculous. I’m sorry Stevie.
Dad: I expect you to milk this opportunity.
My face burns with secondhand embarrassment. “Yes. Thank you.” A fewminutes later, I’m given my room key, along with instructions on how to find the elevators. I drag my rolling suitcase behind me, typing out a quick response one-handed.
Me: I’m here! At the hotel.
Mom: Thank goodness! Send us a video of your room. We’re living vicariously through you.
Dad: My daughter is legendairy.
Me: Oh my God. Please stop.
Biting back a grin, I reach my room and use the key to escape inside. When I flip on the light, my eyes round, brightening with dazzlement. A king-size bed with crisp white linens sits center stage, framed by a tufted velvet headboard in midnight blue. Floor-to-ceiling windows offer a breathtaking view of the city, the Los Angeles lights stretching out like a sea of stars.
The walls are adorned with black-and-white photographs of Hollywood icons, adding a vintage splash to the contemporary space, as a marble-topped minibar glitters in the corner, stocked with high-end spirits and gourmet snacks.
I take a quick moment to video the room and send it off in the group chat, then I jump up and down with a childlike squeal before flopping backward on the bed.
Is this what it’s like?
Is this how Lex lives, day in and day out?
The idea is a mix of sweet and sour as I close my eyes and breathe it all in.
Then my phone pings again with a text message. Sitting up straight, I glance down at the unfamiliar number.
Unknown number: How’s the room?
My eyes slant.
Me: Who’s this?
Unknown number: Guess.
