[Writing Prompt] The Dream

Word Prompt: Vivid

Scenario: You’re in your hotel room getting ready for bed when you hear hushed voices outside your door. Curious, you peer through the peephole and what you see and hear shocks you…Complete the scenario in any way, in any style, and for any word count. Open your mind and follow where it leads, writing as you go.

Please excuse any grammatical errors.

Sighing heavily, I sat down on the bed and began pulling my shoes off. I hated these kinds of events, it seemed no matter how professional the guests were supposed to act, and liquor had a way of removing that professionalism. The thing that frustrated me most was how the men acted once that’s a little bit of fire water. Their slurs about the size of my boobs, or the way they undressed me with their eyes was getting fucking annoying.

So I used to work in the porn industry, so what? It wasn’t that I wasn’t grateful what that kind of job had given me. I owned thirty acres of land up in the Smoky Mountains, and had managed to build a nice homestead for myself. However, now that I was trying to separate myself from the industry, no one seemed to want to take me seriously. I still had to show up and do shit like this. Directors and other actors in the industry always had stupid questions for me whenever they got drunk. From things like who was the best co-star I’d ever been with to the sizes of said co-stars.

Guest speaking about my time in the industry was just annoying, and I couldn’t stand it. So why did you agree to it? Some might ask. Well it really had to do with a good friend of mine and the fact that I owed everything I had to him. Roger Wilson was an industry leading director. When I’d come in the audition, he’d immediately refused to even see me. Back then I was living in a little roach infested slum in the Lower East Side. All I had to my name was a few moth –eaten t-shirts, one good pantsuit that I wore on interviews, and a twin mattress with a huge hole in the center of it.

In those days, I made my money by working at the local Stop-N-Shop as a cashier. I worked part time, and made minimum wage, so food was scarce. Between rent, electricity, and gas for beat-up 1988 Jeep Cherokee, I rarely had anything left at the end of the week. There were weeks were I only three times the entire week. I went from weighing as hefty 190 pounds to weighing 125 pounds. Though it wasn’t good for me, the dramatic weight loss had been what finally caught Roger’s attention.

It had about seven months since the audition and I just gotten my tax refund back. I decided to use that money to get the power steering pump fixed on my Jeep, and the remainder I used to treat myself to a nice dinner.

When I walked into Sorella, I immediately regretted it. It wasn’t just because of the short spaghetti-strapped red dress I was wearing, but also because I hadn’t made a reservation. I’d tried to convince the host to seat me anyway, but he refused, staring at me like I was just a streetwalker. I’d managed not to break down in tears right then and there and simply turned to leave, prepared to just go home.

What I didn’t know was that Roger Wilson was having dinner there, and he’d seen the thing. The next thing I knew, I was being stopped. The host apologized profusely to me and led me to Roger’s table.

I’d never actually met Roger. The day that I’d gone in for the audition, I had spoke with one of his assistants.  She’d then disappeared into his office and come out a few minutes later telling me that Roger wasn’t seeing anyone else. So, when I was seated at his table, I had no idea who he was. What I did notice was how attractive he was. His hair was dark, almost black, and he had it combed back behind his ears. His eyes were an icy blue color, and beneath his suit I could make out the slight outline of his muscles.

“Hi there,” he said, smiling seductively at me when I sat down. “I couldn’t help but notice you arguing with host up there? Can I ask why?”

“Uh, I’m sorry. While I appreciate you inviting me over here, I really should go.” I was uncomfortable with the whole situation and since I didn’t know who he was, I wasn’t going to sit and talk to him.

As I was rising from my seat to leave, he stood and grabbed my wrist gently. “My name is Roger Wilson, and I’d like it very much if you’d have dinner with me.”

My eyes bulged slightly. He didn’t know it, but I was the girl he’d refused to see for the audition months ago. Part of me was irritated by the fact that he wanted to me to eat with him, but I couldn’t fight back the voice in my head telling me to do it anyway.

That was the first of many dates between Roger and me and though our relationship never grew past friendship, we still enjoyed each others’ company.  So when Roger asked to do a movie with him, I did it not because I wanted to launch my career, but because he was dear friend. When we wrapped, I swore I would never do another adult movie again. I wanted to be taken seriously as an actress. Little did I know that I would be doing adult movies for years.

The movie was a hit in the industry and director after director came to me, wanting to know if I would work with them. I didn’t like it, but I took any and every job I could. The result was more money than I’d seen in my lifetime, and the ridicule of my friends and family. Thinking about it now, I realized that the payoff wasn’t really worth the trouble. No one seemed interested in me as a legitimate actress—they all saw me as the adult star I was. I hated it, and that’s why I hated these conventions. Still, I owed my success to Roger and no matter how much I hated it, if he called and asked me to do one, I would without hesitation.

I tossed my stilettos into the corner and lay back on the motel bed. I was grateful this night was nearly over and that I’d be on my way back home tomorrow afternoon.

With a heavy sigh, I stretched and climbed out of bed so I could shower and change. As I walked past the hotel door, I heard the distinct sounds of voices right outside my room. I peeked out the peephole, curiously, and was shocked to see Roger arguing with rather large man.

The man was muscular with a goatee and dirty blonde hair. I could make out what they were saying, but they appeared to be arguing. I watched as the big man shoved Roger hard, and then Roger shoved back. Fists began to fly, and then the big man shoved Roger to the ground and began pounding him in the face. The next thing I knew, Roger pulled out a pistol and shot the man—the sound ringing out in the silence of the hotel. Panicked, I yanked the door open.

“Roger! What the hell did you do?”

His eyes met mine, his body shaking with adrenaline. “Hayley…I didn’t….Shit!”

I glanced up and down the hall, seeing the other hotel patrons begin spilling from their rooms. Acting on impulse, I grabbed a fistful of Roger’s shirt and pulled him into my room, slamming the door behind me. I turned to face him, seeing his body tremble. His breathing was heavy and he still held the gun in hand. Slowly, I walked up to him, placing my hands on his shoulders hesitantly.

“Roger?” He didn’t even look at me. His eyes remained focused on the .9mm in his hand. Swallowing hard, I shook him. “Roger, look at me!”

After a moment, he turned his gaze to me, his panicked eyes meeting mine. “I don’t know what happened. One minute we were arguing and the next thing I knew I was pulling my gun.” His eyes began to water. “He wanted to do terrible things to you. I’d heard him talking about in lounge and when I saw him leave, I decided to follow him.”

“It’s okay, it’s okay. We’ll figure out how to handle this. Did you guys get into a fight?” I asked, though I’d seen the fight with my own eyes.

Roger nodded. “Yeah, he wasn’t going to leave without seeing you. I tried to tell him that you weren’t interested but he was so insistent. I swear I didn’t mean to shoot him.”

I took the gun from him, slowly, and made sure the weapon was clear before I set it on the bed. He was still shaking, and pulled him to me, hugging him gently. I wasn’t sure what to do, but I felt like I owed him so much. Who knew what that guy’s plans for me had been? If it hadn’t been for Roger, what would have happened?

After a moment, he hugged me back and we stood there in the darkness of my room. Behind us, pounding began on the door, and in my heart I knew it the cops. Roger pulled back, his eyes watery as he stared at me.

“I couldn’t let anything happen to you,” he said, his voice cracking slightly.

I forced a smile, my heart racing as the pounding was joined by voices. “Open the door; we just want to talk to you, Mr. Wilson.”

“What am I going to do?” he asked, his eyes darting between me and the door.

I touched his cheek gently, pulling attention to me. “You’re going to go out there and talk to them. Tell them exactly what you told me.”

“And what if they arrest me?”

“Then I’ll bail you out. I’ll be here to help you, but you have to talk to the cops. Running won’t help anything.”

He let out a deep sigh, placing his hand atop mine which was still rested on his cheek. “I don’t know what I would do without you.”

I snorted a laugh. “You’d lose your head and so something stupid.”

He squeezed my hand gently. “Okay, I’m going, but first I want to do something.”

I didn’t have time to react as he leaned forward and kissed me hard and deep. Initially, I wanted to resist, but after a moment, I tilted my head, letting him deepen kiss even more. He released my hand, his arms slipping around my waist as he pulled me tight against him. The kiss only lasted a few moments and then he pulled away, his breathing heavy.

“I love you, Hayley,” he said, catching me completely off guard.

He kissed my forehead and then released me, walking toward the door. As he disappeared into the hallway, I stood there, my hand touching my lips, a dumbfounded look on my face. What had just happened? What did it mean?

I spun around to stop him—say something to him, but it was too late; he was already gone. Running for the door, I yanked it open and cried out as I saw Roger pull his pistol and aim it at the police.

“I’m not going to jail,” he yelled. “I didn’t do anything wrong!”

“Drop your weapon,” one of the cops responded, his own gun trained on Roger. Roger shook his head, and then everything happened at once. As he began pulling the trigger, the cops did the same. I flinched, backing up into the room and covering my ears, tears streaming down my face as bullets began tearing through Roger’s body.

It didn’t last long, and when the noise had stopped, I ran over to where he now laid, a thick puddle of blood pooling underneath him. “Roger! What the fuck where you thinking?”

His eyes met mine as he let out a staggering breath, and then I watched as the life left them.

I awoke with a start. The dream had been so vivid. I could have sworn it Roger had actually died. I sat up in my bed, taking a deep breath and wiping my sweaty face with my hands.

“Everything okay, baby?” Roger asked, yawning as he glanced up at me.

I smiled down at him, letting my fingers dance across his cheek. “Yeah, I’m fine. Just a bad dream.”

He opened his arms wide. “Come here, I’ll keep those bad dreams away.”

I leaned forward and kissed him firmly before sliding down in the bed and curling up next to him. As his arms wrapped around me, I stared at the gold band on my finger. It had all been a dream. With a deep, contented sigh, I let my eyes close, happy that my husband was still here in the bed with me.