Sexting

A gentle knock shattered the hotel room's stillness. It was the whisper of knuckles against wood, three precise taps that made Alex jump. He'd been staring at Jessica's latest message, his mind spinning elaborate worst-case scenarios involving scorned lovers and theatrical cults, when Sarah slipped past him to answer the door.

A young woman stood framed in the doorway, backlit by the hallway's amber sconces like an actress hitting her mark. The hotel's standard waiter's uniform had been transformed through what must have been surgical alterations – the white blouse suggesting rather than revealing, the black pencil skirt riding the line between her thighs in a professional and provocative with Olympic-level precision. Her nametag caught the light as she stepped forward: "Melody."

'Of course that's her name,' Alex thought. 'Because apparently everyone in LA is living in their own personal movie.'

The soft whirr of the trolley's wheels against marble provided a strangely hypnotic soundtrack as Melody guided it into the room. Each step seemed choreographed, her movements carrying the deliberate grace of someone who'd practiced their "casual" walk in front of a mirror until it looked effortless.

"Good evening, Mr. Rivers," she practically sang, each syllable dripping with suggestion. Her courtesy would have impressed the Queen of England, though Her Majesty might have raised a royal eyebrow at how the maneuver displayed both impeccable posture and considerable cleavage. "I trust you're feeling... better?" Her pause was precisely calculated, her smile holding promises that definitely weren't on the room service menu.

'Is this what Jason's life is usually like?' Alex wondered, caught between amusement and alarm. 'Do all the hotel staff come with built-in seduction settings, or am I getting the premium package because they think I'm a porn star?'

Sarah's throat-clearing could have cut glass. "Your job here is done, young lady." Her tone carried enough frost to start a new ice age. "You may take your leave now." The words weren't a suggestion so much as a pre-emptive restraining order.

Melody's performance deflated like a punctured soufflé. She straightened, her shoulders dropping slightly as the sparkle in her eyes dimmed to a professional glimmer. Her exit had considerably less flourish than her entrance, though she managed one last lingering glance at Alex before the door clicked shut.

The aroma wafting from beneath the silver domes drew Alex's attention like a siren song. His stomach, apparently deciding it had more pressing concerns than identity theft and divine debt, rumbled appreciatively.

"You ordered food?" The words came out more pathetically grateful than he'd intended.

'Oh, what would I do without you, Sarah?' he thought, a wave of fondness temporarily drowning his guilt about Jessica's messages. Sarah, who'd been managing Jason's chaos long before Alex stepped into his shoes. Sarah, who somehow knew exactly what he needed even when someone else was pretending to be him.

"I ordered your favorite," Sarah said, a hint of playfulness creeping through her professional veneer. She lifted one of the silver domes with practiced flair, releasing a cloud of fragrant steam. "Don't worry about the cost – all expenses are on the studio. Might as well take advantage while we can, right?"

Alex laughed. "Well, what are we waiting for? Let's dig in!"

***

The staff corridor's fluorescent lighting did nothing for Melody's complexion as she stalked away from Room 1242, her stilettos executing a staccato rhythm of frustration against the utilitarian flooring. Each click seemed to emphasize another wasted opportunity, another failed audition in the ongoing performance piece that was Los Angeles.

"Rough night?"

The voice belonged to Nathan, whose maintenance uniform somehow managed to suggest that keeping the hotel's infrastructure running was just his side gig between modeling contracts. He fell into step beside her, concern etched across features that belonged on a protein shake advertisement.

"Can you believe it?" Melody burst out, as if the words had been physically painful to contain. "I went to serve Mr. Rivers – you know, the celebrity actor?" She emphasized 'celebrity actor' with air quotes sharp enough to slice paper. "I was being nice and friendly, really putting myself out there, and he barely even looked at me! And his PA?" She shuddered dramatically. "I've seen warmer receptions at funeral homes."

Her hands punctuated each sentence with increasingly theatrical gestures, her voice rising and falling like she was performing for an invisible audience. "He probably thinks I'm beneath him – just another wannabe serving overpriced room service. But just wait!" She spun to face Nathan, nearly taking out a passing housekeeper with her emphatic arm sweep. "Someday I'll be the one ordering room service in the penthouse suite! I'll have my own scary PA to chase away the help!"

Nathan's expression shifted from concern to something more complicated, like someone watching a car crash in slow motion. "You know what's funny? You're doing exactly what you're mad at him for. Looking right through people who aren't famous enough to matter."

"Oh please, Nathan," Melody cut him off with a wave that could have directed traffic. "Not now. I can't deal with your whole..." she gestured vaguely at all of him, "...thing right now." Her heels resumed their angry percussion against the floor as she clip-clopped away, leaving Nathan staring after her with the resigned expression of someone who'd seen this particular show before and already knew the ending.

***

Back in the hotel room, Alex's phone chirped with the specific tone he'd already learned to dread. Jessica's latest message blazed across his screen like a neon warning sign:

'Oh come on Jason, since when did you start to put work first before fun? I've been so lonely and horny since you left. Don't worry, you don't need to do anything, I'll do all the work in bed. I'll give you a nice blowjob. What do you think?

'Jesus,' Alex thought, a smirk tugging at his lips despite himself. 'She makes the room service girl look subtle.' Then he remembered Sarah's expression when she'd learned he went to see Jessica, and the smirk faded. Whatever game Jessica was playing, he had a feeling the rules were written in blood.

Across the table, Sarah watched Alex's expression change as he read his phone. Her fork pushed a piece of perfectly cooked salmon around her plate in increasingly aggressive circles, each rotation accompanied by an internal monologue of carefully suppressed feelings.

'I'm sure it's one of his girlfriends,' she thought, stabbing a baby potato with more force than strictly necessary. 'Another aspiring actress or model or "performance artist" who thinks Jason Rivers is their ticket to stardom.' The potato didn't survive her next bite.

"Are you going to drop your phone and eat?" The words came out sharper than she'd intended, jealousy and hurt bleeding through her professional facade like water through tissue paper.

Alex looked up with a startled smile and then his fingers flew across the screen, composing what he hoped would be a sufficiently tempting response without crossing into restraining order territory.

'This should calm her down for now... hopefully,' he thought as he set the phone aside, turning his attention to the elaborate meal Sarah had ordered.