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Love in the Seedy Hotel

A bar on Santa Monica Blvd. Dimitri and Ella sit across from one another in a large dark red leather booth.

"So, ask me anything you want," Dimitri says, leaning back, placing his fists on the table.

Ella is silent, inscrutable.

"A picture, my son." He hands her a photo out of his suede wallet.

"Smart looking boy. He's here with you?" Ella asks.

"In Moscow. Eleven he is. Seventeen I was...very hard...I miss him."

He waves down the waiter.

"Bring more vodka. And a dessert. Whatever you have, but nothing peachy."

He dismisses him with a flick of his hand.

"So, what you want out of life?" he asks, leaning in close to Ella.

She smiles softly.

"I know. Love... you want." He answers his own question abruptly.

"You're making fun of me."

"Oh, baby." He strokes her cheek.

They are silent for a second, as the young amateur jazz band in the bar begins to play. Ella pretends to be very interested in them. Dimitri knocks back his vodka.

"What, no love in your life?"

She fires back. "What about you?"

The waiter brings two desserts to the table.

"Not in this lifetime, baby."

"You're kind of young to give up." Ella takes a sip of her drink.

"Not giving up. I don't want any love." He sticks a straw in the chocolate dessert and plays with it.


They leave. They are silent, driving down Beverly Boulevard.

"We get hotel room." Dimitri waves his cigarette in her face towards the slightly seedy hotel on the right hand side of the street.

"Oh, do we?" Ella asks, somewhat amused.


Inside the hotel room. Fully clothed, he lays on the bed. Feet crossed, he lights a cigarette.

"You go shower now," he says, blowing smoke at the ceiling.

Ella closes the bathroom door behind her. She undresses, turns on the shower and then sits on the toilet. A mirror is opposite her. She stares at herself. Then she sticks her feet in the shower, wipes them off, and walks out of the room.

Dimitri is laying on the bed naked. He doesn't look her way, staying concentrated on his smoke. She just stands there, motionless.

"Bend over," he says.


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