233. Hotel

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233. Hotel: Write from the perspective of someone who works at a hotel or staying at a hotel.

I've got diamond dreams but I've got to press the coal awfully hard before they turn into something worthwhile.

The hotel is not the best. It passes the health code, and that's about it. I shouldn't mind, but when I stare at the grimy ceiling, I imagine I am someplace else. I imagine the hard work is all done and I am lying on an opulent bed surrounded by grandeur. It is these dreams that keep me motivated. They remind me of the goal I am striving to achieve.

It's such a long road, though.

My guitar is laid across the foot of the bed. Me and Joey have the bed tonight, but tomorrow we'll have to switch with the other two. I figured I've slept on more hard floors than anyone I know -- including that kid from high school that was perpetually camping. When you're on a self-funded tour promoting your barely noticeable debut album, you make certain sacrifices.

It's hard not to get discouraged. We all go through our moments when the reward for all of our hard work doesn't look like it will ever come. It's even harder to realize that it might not ever. We could be playing small shows for the rest of our life and never get any recognition. That's a hard truth. Even being talented, we could still be overlooked.

I stretch my toe and touch the side of my guitar. It was my ticket to fame and I tried to take care of it. I'm not the singer of the group; I can barely sing. No, Joey is the one with the voice, and Joey is the one people notice. However, just because I'm the guitarist doesn't mean I'm expendable -- at least, that's what I tell myself. I also write our songs, although we stick to covers of popular songs mostly, because that's what people like. They like familiar. Listening to a new song is like committing to it.

The boys are out trying to scavenge some food. I stayed because I wanted to remember what the finish line looked like. The ceiling fan rotated lazily, andd I stared at it without seeing.

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