A Taste of the High Life

A hard frown could be seen on Randolph's face as he made his way through the Hotel's tall hallway. In his hand was an electric keycard the hotel had granted him, for access to his own room.

The frown was a deep one, the lines so deep they seemed almost etched on his face. Only when Randolph entered the room to his suite did his expression ease up somewhat. The luxurious conditions inside blinded him, making him forget his previous gloom.

Randolph had ended up staying at the High-Ring Suites, but the price hadn't been a cheap one.

In his talk with the manager of the suite, Randolph had managed to "convince" him that he was the victim of a mugging, for the cheap price of $10000 dollars. The hotel was quite professional, but the manager was the only one that Randolph needed to convince.

The man likely wouldn't have even taken the deal had Randolph not pumped the price up of his own accord, pushing it onto the man as if it was a gift instead of a bribe.

The manager would definitely have fleeced him of even more if he could, and it would have happened had Randolph not excused himself first. Even then, the deal came with many terms.

He was to pay double for room service upon checkout due to his lack of credit card, and many of the hotel's facilities weren't open for his use. He also wasn't given a personal concierge1or room attendant, and had to pay for related services himself.

Hell, the man would definitely throw Randolph under the bus if the police came asking for him, bribe or not. He longed to bring out the system for a privacy agreement, but there was no way for the current him to force the man into an agreement.

But while the price was hefty, it was worth it for the added security.

Randolph's room was a king-sized suite, located among the upper floors of the Hotel. It was even slightly larger than John's private room at the hospital, and was completely clean.

A large bed was centered in the room, so big it seemed unreasonable. Its sheets were pure white, a testament to the cleanliness of the room.

A large TV sat on a fine-wood wardrobe opposite to the bed, and there were several couches near the window which stretched to almost fill the entire outer wall. Its view of the city was incredible, allowing him to see the towering skyscrapers and bustling nightlife scenery outside.

Near the TV was a room phone, and pasted on the wall above it was a list of numbers for room service.

Picking up the phone, the young man dialed the number for laundry service. His order was slow and slightly awkward, as he was unused to the sheer luxury shown by the hotel.

After placing his order, he stripped all his clothes before tossing them onto the bed. The service operator had directed him to a towel and a fresh bathrobe in his wardrobe, to which he also took.

The bathroom of the room was private, and it was shockingly large. It was over twice as large as the room in his apartment, made almost entirely of marble, had a mirror that was the length of the entire room, and it had two sinks.

"Two sinks?! What the fuck do I need two sinks for? Is this the rich person's luxury?" An uncharacteristic curse slipped from his mouth witnessing the sight.

Of course – by an actual wealthy person's standards – this was not the case. This was only a four star hotel, and one that didn't stand out in any particular way. A personal resort or five star hotel had standards incomparable to what he was currently in.

The room cost him $320 a night at a standard rate, which didn't seem like a lot on paper, but he knew he would run out of money very quickly. That was almost $10k for a month if he didn't include the extra services and food.

From his 'transaction' with the Hotel's manager, along with all the other expenses he had to pay for that night, he had just above $12k to work with for his future plans.

Stepping into the open bath, which was unnecessarily large, Randolph turned the shower tap on. Hot water flowed out onto his grimy skin. The water was very hot, quickly steaming up the bathroom, but it made him feel better as he watched the dirt rub off his skin.

As he cleaned himself, the white noise of the shower relaxed his mind, allowing him to sink into deep thought.

There were many deep problems that plagued his mind now that he was momentarily safe and sound.

The first and most prominent issue was, obviously, the police. He had just killed two men brutally, and while there weren't any witnesses, he knew that it was only a matter of time until he was found.

There was some good news in this front though, and a decent amount of it.

The first piece was that Canada operated under the presumption of innocence. This meant that they would first investigate all potential witnesses instead of just jumping to conclusions, which granted him time. It also helped his case that, while his conflicts with Trevor were known to many, he had no motive to commit such horrible murders. All of his colleagues, which he had left a lasting impression on, would testify for him.

The second piece was why Randolph had chosen to come to the Hotel in the first place. After investigating his background, there was no way in hell that they would believe that he has the income or savings to stay at a large hotel.

Even they didn't have the authority to check John's personal accounts for how much money they contained, and they would have to go through all of his accounts to see how much in total had been transferred to his offshore account.

Even if they did connect the large withdrawal of $20k to him, they wouldn't expect him to be able to stay at the hotel for long, which was where his system came in to sustain him in his stay. He planned to stay there for a good while, at least until any trouble died down.

It was also why he didn't immediately skip towns, as there were simply too many ways for him to be tracked.

A fresh bar of ivory-scented soap sat at the side of the tub. Grabbing it, the young man scrubbed his body down.

The next and most unknown problem was related to what was essentially his lifeblood – being the system.

He didn't know what it was or how exactly he got it, but he did know that there were two freaks that were trailing it. This wasn't primary because he couldn't tell how urgent the situation was, not knowing when or where, or even who those two were.

At the thought of the silver-haired boy, Randolph's frown deepened.

The boy had given Randolph an extremely dangerous feeling, even more so than the giant fleshy freak. It seemed illogical, but he felt a sort of innocence from the freak that he did not from the boy. All he could tell from the boy was that he was unhinged, and seeing as to how the freak obeyed him, he was likely the prime source of danger.

The next problem was his lack of funds and identification. He didn't count the loan sharks as a problem because there was no way they would be able to find him, not to mention that they probably assumed him dead.

Money was a very trickly problem, but thankfully he had filled one of the main prerequisites for earning it. It was connections to the rich, and it was the second reason he had chosen to stay at the Hotel.

Identification was currently the most troublesome and unsolvable problem. It was something he had to figure out as it came, but he did know a few rather questionable ways to solve the problem.

"…"

As he thought of the potential solutions, his mind naturally drifted towards the underworld of the city and its associated parties, being the gangs.

As his mind drifted towards the gangs, his eyes narrowed and a murderous gleam shone in their depths. It was hidden deep, unknown even to him, but it was there, nonetheless.

Shaking off the negative thoughts, the young man finished with his shower. After drying himself, he awkwardly put on his pure white bathrobe.

How the hell do people wear these? 

In his room, all of his dirty clothes had disappeared. Evidently, they had been taken by room service for cleaning, leaving him basically defenseless in his bathrobe.

To take his mind off of things, he settled himself back in the large bed in the corner of the room. The luxury of its fluffiness astounded even him as he reclined in the bed, sinking into its white sheets. His body naturally relaxed as he did so, causing him to release an involuntary sigh of relief.

And this is just a taste of the high life…

With that thought, the young man slowly drifted off to sleep.