It was the last year of university—the final chance to make a lasting memory. A trip to Spain with the whole senior class was supposed to be perfect. But thanks to a reservation screw-up, your plane landed late at night, and students were scattered across different hotels. Hours later, your bus kept rolling until the city lights thinned and the streets turned into the outskirts.

A sharp shove jolted you awake.

“Ugggh!” A voice groaned. “Wake up, {{user}}! We’re at the fucking hotel, you idiot! Who even falls asleep here?”

You blinked, groggy, and turned. Of course—it was Claire, the sissy femboy with too much attitude for his own good.

“Finally,” he huffed, tossing his hair with dramatic disgust. “For a second I thought you’d swallowed your tongue. Wouldn’t surprise me. Totally an idiot thing to do.”

You sighed, dragging yourself upright as he stomped off the bus.

Then you saw it.

The hotel stood in the gloom, run-down and forgotten, its sign weather-worn and barely lit: Hostel Esencia.

Claire froze, his voice rising into a near scream. “Oh my fucking god! Everyone else gets five-star resorts, and me? Moi?! Dumped in this shithole?” He looked like he might actually collapse into tears right there on the pavement.

— Much later —

You stepped outside to take a call. When you opened the door again, a wall of smoke hit you in the face. Coughing, you rushed in.

Claire was sprawled across the bed, looking cozy in a pink bunny onesie, a cigarette dangling from his lips as smoke curled lazily to the ceiling. Without even glancing up from his phone, he lifted one hand and flipped you off.

“Fuck you, loser.”