- Chapter 2
The Chateau Marmont sat on top of a hill, it laid nestled between the beautiful California beaches and the lively area of West Hollywood. Stevie couldn’t help but be enthralled by the scenery of the Sunset Strip and longed to explore it once business
was through. Speaking of which… the hotel was just around the corner.
‘Swanky’ he thought to himself as got off the car and thanked the chauffeur. He then proceeded to walk inside, marveling at the intricate designs and beautiful architecture; he could feel the spirit of old Hollywood. ‘
‘This place is too good for onishit, Jewtube or Machinima must’ve paid for it probably.’ Another thought came by.
Stevie went towards the platinum-blonde receptionist behind the desk and asked for a “Gregory Daniel”, before calling Greg’s room-
“I’m right here.” Greg retorted.
“Uhh hi, I guess…” was all Stevie could say to the man who was directly facing him. He was somewhat frightened of him, yet keeping his composure. Greg walked towards the elevator and all Stevie could do is follow.
Stevie noted that he and Greg share a similar “rocker-chic” style; Stevie was more blatant with his trip bondage pants, Suicidal Tendencies t-shirt, black sneakers and three-layered studded cuffs on his wrists - all black of course while his hair was slightly disheveled and kept the pubes-like goatee. Meanwhile Greg was more laid-back grungy with his dark blue, acid-washed baggy pants, ankle-high combat boots and a plain black shirt. He still had that Kurt Cobain-inspired bob cut yet slightly growing; he was clean-shaven. Stevie couldn’t help but chuckle at the thought of being stuck in 1999.
There was awkward silence throughout the elevator ride, and that silence continued until they got to Greg’s suite.
Stevie closed the door behind him and cut to the chase.
“Alright man, what is it that you want? You’ve brought me down here from fuckin’ Nevada and for what? And I’m sure it’s not to explore Hollywood!”
“Is it a crime wanting to meet my haters?” Greg retorted.
“Shit dude, you couldda just emailed me or Skyped me or somethin”. I have a life outside of bitchin’ at ya!”
“Don’t seem like it.”
Stevie was already heating up from Greg’s callous replies, he was trying to reframe from punching the taller man’s face and could barely contain himself doing so.
“Look, I want these accusations to stop. I am not a cult-leader nor do I follow any religion, including
Sicesca. Got it? It’s in the past, time to move on.”
Stevie just stood there with his mouth open.
“Motherfucker you’re still doing the same thing and Lord knows what other hidden agendas you probably have for your dumbass fans. Man, I feel sorry for your wife having to put up with your manipulative ass-by the way, how is Skye doin’?”
“Please leave my wife outta this, she has nothing to do with…”these ideas” you like to attack.” Another callous reply.
“I’m just worried about her, man.”
“What, do you think I’m beating her or something? I may be rude or annoying to her but I could never lay a hand on her. I love her too much for that.” The last sentence was muttered under his breath.
The feeling of awkwardness was growing and none of the two wanted to break the silence. That is until Greg spoke up.
“You obviously have a lot of issues and you are probably using my videos as punching bags. You should probably get help for that, s’not healthy.” He smirked.
Stevie’s rage lit up again and lunged himself at Greg, Greg could barely dodge the attack.
“The fuck’s your problem?!” He asked, turquoise eyes showed fear before reverting back to anger from Stevie’s prior comments.
“You don’t know me, motherfucker, you don’t know me!!!” Stevie swung his fists before finally punching him in the face.
Greg doubled over and held himself up by the ottoman before landing on the floor, holding the front side of his jaw with the other. He removed his fingers and noticed blood leaking out of his mouth, anger came over him - it was his
turn to deliver the blow.