The driver started the car, and soon we were on the move. As the cab blended into traffic, my breathing finally slowed.
"First time here?" he asked, clearly amused by my wide-eyed reaction to what seemed like everyone else's normal night.
"Yes," I answered simply.
He smiled. "That explains a lot. Means you probably have no idea where a nice hotel is."
He was right.
"I don't even know where a not nice hotel is," I admitted. "I didn't even understand the pickup area—I just followed the crowd."
He laughed, clearly enjoying this far too much. "So," I asked, "is Vegas always like this?"
"Like what?"
"You know—crowded, loud, busy. Just chaotic," I said. "It's nighttime, yet people are everywhere."
"Yes," he replied easily.
"You'll get used to it. Give it time—you might even end up wasted like those ladies back there."
He laughed, nodding toward a group staggering down the sidewalk.
I smiled. I'd been in plenty of cabs before, but this was the first driver who felt genuinely fun—engaging, carefree. Or is this just a Vegas thing.
As I realized I was generalizing, my thoughts started drifting somewhere I didn't want them to go, I quickly put on my oversized headphones and turned the music up. I needed the noise—to clear my head.
And yet, as the city rushed past the window, I couldn't help but notice how beautiful Vegas looked at night.
The driver had the window slightly open. When I asked why, he said the natural air was far better than the AC. He wasn't wrong. The breeze made my hair sway gently and also carried the scent of well-cooked food from a restaurant we zoomed past. Everything felt amazing.
But exhaustion crept in. Between the plane ride and everything that had happened since, my eyes felt heavy. I must've been staring for too long—everything was overwhelming in the best and worst ways.
After what felt like forever, we finally pulled up in front of a sleek, bougie-looking hotel.
"Wow," I said softly. "Must be classy in there."
"I wanted you to have a good first stay in Vegas," he said with a smile. "You've already had quite the first impression. A soft bed should help with the exhaustion."
"That's really kind of you," I said, then hesitated. "Sorry this is none of my business, but is driving a cab your part-time job?"
He laughed. "That obvious, huh?"
"Very," I said. "You're way too casual for this to be full-time."
He grinned. "Fine, you got me. Have a great stay—and good morning."
I stepped out, thanked him, and watched as the cab sped off. That was when I checked the time.
4:00 a.m.
I hurried inside, eager to check in, freshen up, and finally get some rest. I'd been stressed in Ohio—that was the whole reason I was here. This trip was supposed to help me breathe again.
The moment I stepped into the hotel, I froze.
If the outside had been beautiful, this was something else entirely. The air itself felt refreshing. The lights were warm, the floors spotless, and I watched the receptionist greet everyone with a genuine smile.
The place didn't just feel luxurious.
It felt like home.
And for the first time since arriving, I couldn't wait to finally settle in. I stopped admiring the place, I was already overstimulated.
I rushed through check-in, barely registering the receptionist's smile or the weight of the key card in my hand. Halfway across the lobby, I heard it.
"No, I wasn't lost. I was just looking for someone brave enough to find me."
I froze.
My breath hitched as the words echoed in my head.
I'd written that line. Months back it was still waiting for me in my laptop unpublished.
A chill slid down my spine.
Did my book get leaked?
That didn't make sense. No one even knew it existed.
Except one person.
Raymond