༻ 01 ༺

Trevin stirs to consciousness, slowly opening his eyes, and blinks a bit, not recognizing the room. It was shrouded in darkness, the only light coming from a sliver of sunlight peeking through the heavy brocade curtains. He pushed up on his elbows, thinking: where the hell am I? There was the scent of a perfume, that seemed familiar, sweet and floral that seemed to cling to his skin.

He sits up still confused as to where he was, throwing his legs over the side of the bed, Trevin takes in his surroundings some more. Did he come to this hotel room with someone? That sounded logical, although he'd never spend the night. Was she here and got up before him and was out getting food.? "Hello." No sound, just the distant hum of a car passing by.

What shit had he gotten himself into this time.

Trevin rises to his feet, the weight of the situation seeming to amuse rather than intimidate him as he looked around for his stuff, not surprised that he was butt naked. There was no clothes, no wallet, no car keys, in the sparse room with only a few pieces of furniture: a small bed, a wooden dresser, and a single armchair.You got to be shitting me. Where the hell is my stuff? His fingers raked though his tousled hair, then he yanked the cover off the bed to cover himself and something fell out. A chain. It had landed with a soft metallic whisper on the floor, pooling like a sleeping snake at his feet. Thin. Gold. Not cheap, either. Trevin crouched, the sheet still clutched at his waist, and picked it up. The metal was warm, as if it had been against skin recently-maybe his, maybe someone else's. His thumb brushed over the pendant hanging at the center: a small, oval locket, etched with a pattern so delicate it almost looked hand-cut.

It looked familiar. What was stopping him from remembering? Trevin straightened and yanked open the bathroom door. Empty. He crossed to the dresser, opening drawers one by one. Empty. Not even dust. The armchair held nothing. Okay, so he was back to the conclusion that he came to this hotel room with someone, they took his things and left, but why.

Trevin flipped open the locket on the chain and there was a tiny photograph inside of a middle aged woman. She was pretty, not familiar to him, but he could see that she was a true beauty when she was younger. While studying the woman, there came a knock on the door and Trevin opened it. The woman standing in the hallway froze. She was young, maybe mid twenties, a few years younger than him, dressed in a neatly pressed uniform, a clipboard hugged to her chest.

Her eyes dropped instantly-to the sheet wrapped around his waist-then snapped back up, mortified. "Oh-! I'm so sorry, sir, I didn't realize-"

"Yeah," Trevin said dryly, adjusting the sheet without much concern. "Morning to you too."

She swallowed, clearly flustered, and forced herself into professional mode. "Um. I'm from housekeeping. This room was booked until ten-thirty. It's... eleven now. We have another guest scheduled to check in within the next half hour."

Trevin blinked. That landed heavier than expected. "Right," he said slowly. "Okay. Here's the thing." He leaned an elbow against the doorframe, lowering his voice just a notch. "I've been robbed. Cleaned out. Clothes, wallet, phone. Everything. I woke up like this."

Her eyes widened. "Robbed? In the room?"

"That would be the implication, yeah."

She looked past him, as if expecting someone else to materialize behind his shoulder. "But... sir, there was no

"I just woke up," Trevin cut in, not unkindly. "Trust me, this wasn't on the itinerary."

She hesitated, then nodded, clearly shaken. "I-I can see if we have any clothing left behind. Guests sometimes leave items in lost and found. It won't be much, but-"

"I'll take anything that isn't a sheet," he said. "And while you're doing that, I need to speak to the manager."

"Of course," she said quickly. "I'll let him know."

"One more thing." His expression sharpened. "Can you check the parking lot for me?"

"Yes-yes, sir."

"My car's an Audi," he said, the details rolling out automatically. "Black. Number plate PDU-3176." He watched her write it down. "If it's not there, that's a problem."

She nodded again, eyes darting between him and her clipboard. "I'll check right away."

Trevin straightened, already easing the door closed. "I'll be out in five minutes," he added. "As soon as the clothes are brought."

"Five minutes," she repeated, then turned and hurried down the hall.

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