Everything I loved, went up in flames
Holiday
23rd March 2013
I took the first available flight to LA that day; my scarred arms ached from pulling my heavy suitcases behind me through the airport.
Once I checked in and weighed my suitcases, I passed through security and went on my way.
I boarded the plane at 10:30am and the plane was due to get there at 4:30pm NJ time. Because the time zones were completely different, I’d get there at 8:30am LA time so I had time to check into my hotel and explore the city to find what I was looking for.
I settled in my seat, put my headphones in and went to sleep.
I woke up as the plane bumped to signify that we were on land again; but this time, in Los Angeles. That was an easy flight!
I raced through the airport, grabbed my suitcases from the belt and dragged them towards the exit. I walked outside and I hailed a taxi cab in the LA morning sun.
At 9:45, I reached the expensive hotel I was staying at and – by the look of the bus in the parking lot – they were too.
I paid the driver and walked into the hotel
“Good morning. Reservation for Billie London,” I said to the enthusiastic-looking woman on reception.
“Okay! Here’s your room key; you’re on the top floor in room 390,” she smiled and pointed out the stairs and the elevator.
“Thank you. Do you know if there are any people here under the names ‘Way’, ‘Iero’ and ‘Toro’?” I asked. I was sure that the tour bus in the lot was theirs.
“Yes! As a matter of fact, they are in the room either side of yours,” she replied, not even wanting to know a reason why I asked.
Shrugging my shoulders, I walked over to the elevator and stepped in, pushing the button that took me to the top floor.
I finally found my room after endlessly walking through the corridors with no hope. I left my suitcases in there and shut the door.
I can’t do this. I can’t confront them.
I walked over to room 388 and – without thinking – knocked on the door, not 100% sure of who or what I’d find…
