luck for the night - rl.

12. i should have worn a kilt.

Wait, he really did it?

My mouth fell open, looking at my phone. I was still in bed, and until I saw about five hundred missed calls and messages from Remington, had forgotten about last night's phone call.

But it was real, it was really real. The document, sent in the last message, was a one-way ticket to Oslo, Norway. As I opened it, reading through all of my own info, I was surprised that I had properly told all of this, at three o'clock when I was half asleep.

I did not want to know how much Remington had paid for this... I didn't want to know why he was flying me out, although I knew it, deep down.

He had the same desires as I, still. Phoebe's voice seeped into my brain. I knew what she was going to say. You're just a toy to him, don't you see?

But, if he really wanted girls to just play with, why would he call me every night, never making anything sexual after it had made me uncomfortable that one night? Or was this just a game to him?

I put an end to the doubt: nothing could go wrong. I deserved this luck. My luck of the day was Remington getting me this ticket, being able to see him again and hang out with him.

Luckily, it was Sunday, so no work today. The flight wasn't until dinnertime, so I spent hours getting ready. Showering, shaving, make-up and the perfect outfit. I gathered my things, made my way to the airport, and before I knew it, my flight had landed in Oslo, Norway.

Remington had it all perfectly mapped out. I arrived in Oslo as he was playing his show, and I took a (quite expensive) taxi to his hotel. At the front desk, I asked for fake the name he had given me. Before he left, he had told them to give another key card to someone using that name.

"Hi, I'm here for Jacob black."

A knowing smile appeared on the lady's face as she looked up that name in the system. "Of course, here is your key. Your room is on the fourth floor, the last door on your right. Enjoy your stay!" Of course, she knew what was going on, giving a girl the key to the rock stars hotel room, at this time of day.

My heart started beating faster, the closer I came to the hotel room. His hotel room. He was not there yet, I knew, but still, it made my body tense, my brain crowded and nervous.

I stepped into the room, after unlocking it with my key. This hotel definitely was bigger and more luxurious than the one I had been staying in, back in London. Surprised I stood still, realising it had only been a little over a week since that night: so much had happened, since then. It felt much longer ago.

I knew there were way nicer hotels out there, but I was used to paint chipping off the doors and uncomfortable, lumpy mattresses. This room was spacious, with a big bed that looked so comfortable that I let myself fall back onto it.

There was enough space for some big chairs near the window, a desk, and a little kitchenette. I peeked into the bathroom: white stone on every surface, counters bigger than the ones in my kitchen back home, and one of those triangular bubble baths, the ones you only see in the movies.

I giggled when I noticed what was hanging right beside the bed: a mirror, of course.

I sat down on the bed, trying to remember a pose I saw on TikTok, from one of those boudoir photographers. On my knees, slightly turned to the side so my bum was visible. I took a picture. Remington would have a little surprise when he checked his phone.

another one of those mirrors?

His reaction came a few minutes later. Fuck, I'll be there asap

It really did not take long: about thirty minutes later, which I, of course, spent scrolling down an endless pit of TikTok's, The electric lock to the room beeped. The door opened, and there he was.