The morning after

Completing the usual morning ritual to get at least presentable, you put on the expensive clothes gifted by her, you went to the elevator to get down, but, weird, it wasn't working apparently, no matter how much you pressed the button.

Oh well, even in luxury hotels things can break, right? So down the stairs, great, your knee just needed to be reminded to annoy a bit daily, or you could even forget it's a complete piece of crap after that old car accident... Getting down to the main hall, you just crossed one of the make-up people you saw on the plane, a woman, who was in quite an hurry it seemed, but spying her discretely (insert James Bond music here) you were able to see where she was going and find the hair and make-up room.

It seemed just one of the many service areas for the hotel personnel that they transformed in an improvised make-up and beauty salon, with mirrors, chairs and lots of products, that even if you date a model you can't name at all.

You tried to move in from the half opened door and surprise your girlfriend, who was near the end of the room, making the silence sign with the index so the other girls there, Josephine, Lais, Jasmine, Elsa, and they didn't say anything even if they saw you.