Hand over hand, I pulled my steering wheel, turning precisely into an empty parking space beside my parent's in the underground garage. I let out a deep breath slowly unclicked my seatbelt.
"We're here!" Chase shouted excitedly.
I peered at the review mirror and saw Chase's head pop up and unclick his seatbelt, completely re-energized from his two hour nap on the interstate.
Although I was tired, I actually had a prideful feeling of accomplishment. I just drove four hours and I had to admit, I was pretty proud of myself. I pryed myself off the beige cloth seat, stepped out of the car and stretched my stiff legs, relieved to have arrived at the hotel.
My parents climbed out of their car. I could see they looked about as tired as I was from how slow they were to exit their car. We gathered in between our cars.
"I want to see our room!" Colby chirped.
"Me too." I muttered. I was sure we probably wanted to look at the room for different reasons. I was exhausted and all I wanted to do right now was crawl under the fresh tightly tucked linens in an air-conditioned room and crash for a quick nap. He was ready to buzz around the room and jump from bed to bed.
"Grab some luggage and we'll get checked in first."
Five minutes later, I was in the hotel lobby, sweating, impatient, and laden down with a mountain of luggage.
The lobby was bustling with Youtubers and fans lucky enough to snag a room at the convention. There was a sign posted Welcome YouTubers in a front of two wooden double doors which was probably where the convention would be held.
As we waited in line, I panned the room. I was awestruck by the grandeur of the hotel. The lobby was large and opulent with polished marble floors, cherrywood veneer and dark maroon and gold curtains draped over the window. The floor shimmered and winked under the bright lights of the oversized crystal chandeliers that hung overhead.
This was a far stretch from our town where the hotels began with an M. Their rooms had dirt filled brown shag rugs and dark brown and orange floral 70's comforters. It skeeved me out basically resembling the motel from the movie Psycho.
"Good afternoon," Dad said. He flashed his usual smile as he stepped up to the counter. "The last name is Phillips. We're Youtubers, here for the convention this weekend."
My heart ached for him. He looked just as exhausted as I felt. I had no idea how he drove us on family vacations for miles every year and never complained. Another example of how awesome my dad really was.
"Wonderful! How was your trip?" the young man behind the desk asked. Not that he probably cared. He probably asked the same question to every person who checked in.
"Fine thanks." Dad replied keeping it short. He probably knew the guy was just being cordial as well. It can't imagine how boring it would be to ask everyone how their day was going, over and over again. I would need a therapist after just one day at his job.
"Great. Now let's get you checked in." The man forced a smile. He was one of three impeccably-dressed hotel personnel behind the counter. Their uniforms matched the black and gold of the lobby, and they were pressed and stiff, as if they'd come straight from the uniform factory. I chuckled at how they resembled Lara Croft's butler in Tomb Raider.
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