“You saw nothing,” he growled, turning the key over. “But since you’re here…” He gestured to the cash. “You think I’m stupid? You think this is a hostel ?”
Greg squinted. A faint smirk touched his lips—a signal, the one they’d rehearsed. “We’re overbooked. The only room left is the Hostel Master Suite .”
“Billie. Billie Star,” she said, sliding a crumpled, fake confirmation email across the counter. “I booked the budget dorm, but… the email says ‘Co-ed Suite, Shared Amenities’?”
Greg leaned forward. “No charge. But there’s a catch. The key is a master key. It opens your room… and one other. An honest mistake by housekeeping.” FakeHostel - Billie Star - An Honest Mistake -2...
The fluorescent lights of the “FakeHostel” lobby hummed a low, indifferent tune. Billie Star, with her platinum blonde ponytail and a nervous giggle ready on her lips, adjusted the strap of her oversized backpack. She’d been told the setup: a naive traveler, a booking mix-up, and a very unusual hostel. What she hadn’t been told was that her co-star for the scene had just been swapped at the last minute due to a scheduling conflict.
He took a step forward. The floorboard groaned. “There is no Room 7. Not on this floor.”
“Housekeeping?” Billie squeaked, trying to pivot back to the script. “You saw nothing,” he growled, turning the key over
Greg just slid a heavy brass key across the lacquered wood. “Figure it out.”
She stumbled backward, but her heel caught on a torn rug. The door slammed shut behind her on its own—a gust of wind or a hidden wire? The man’s hand shot out, not to grab her, but to snatch the key from her fingers.
The room was dark, smelling of leather and cheap cologne. And standing in the middle, shirtless, was not Max. You think this is a hostel
He stared at her for a long moment. Then he laughed—a dry, ugly sound. “Well, Billie Star. Your honest mistake just became my problem. Because if you’re real, and this place has cameras…” He looked up at the ceiling, spotting a tiny red light in the smoke detector. “Then we’re both on tape.”
She took the key. The scene was supposed to be simple: she’d walk to Room 7, “accidentally” unlock Room 9 instead, and find a handsome stranger (a guy named Max) in the shower. The “honest mistake” would lead to a flustered apology, a dropped towel, and the usual choreography.
“What other room?” Billie whispered.
She didn’t ask why. She just ran.
Billie bit her lip, playing the flustered tourist. “But I can’t afford an upgrade…”