After the audition, Wu Xiaoming looked up the supposedly famous Sproutlinger Hotel. It was somewhere on the edge of downtown Los Angeles. It was not on his way home, but the detour wouldn’t be too long either.

Around twenty minutes later, the rideshare vehicle dropped him off at the front door of the hotel. On his way, the driver was rather chatty - he told Wu Xiaoming about the different kinds of passengers he got today, how the hotel used to be good but now getting less and less guests because of all the new hotels being built, and how the supposed hauntings were all hype but no substance.

From the looks of the exterior, it was not hard to see why the hotel was not getting enough guests. The building was dirty, with stains from rain and rust all over the walls. The windows were dusty, and had the light yellow color that usually came with age and weathering. From some of the windows on the first floor, he could see the old wallpaper inside the room, old sheets and pillow cases. The carpet before the front door was worn out of its original color, now it was mostly brown and gray, only from the edges can Wu Xiangyu tell it used to be red.

The two-lane street in front smelled of garbage, urine and weed. It was a hard notion that he was this quick to pick up the smell of weed at first. Time wise it was not very late in the afternoon, and the traffic seemed to be building up already. The pedestrians were focused on their own thing - either the music in their ears or the phones in their hands. Two homeless men were hanging around in the corner, mumbling to themselves and looking around aimlessly.

Wu Xiaoming looked around the front door. A burly bald man in a suit was sitting in a tall chair on the side of the entrance, playing with his phone and had yet to notice him. He walked around the street corner to the right side of the front door, and reached a three-lane street. On his side he found a drugstore, an alcohol shop, a smoke shop, and two restaurants. He turned back to check out the other corner to the left side of the door, and that was where he entered a small alley with dirty water, cigarette butts, trash bags and even some needles and syringes scattered around. And through some fences he saw the parking lot at the back of the hotel building. Only around twenty vehicles, all quite old looking.

The fence height was about an arm’s length above Wu Xiaoming’s head. The metal netting was slightly rusty, the paint had cracked and even completely peeled off in a few places. Maybe if he used a little bit of force, he could just jump over.

He decided against it. He then proceeded to continue on his way through the alley and reached the back side of the hotel.

A lone security guard post stood on the side of the entrance into the parking lot. A middle aged guard with a gray beard and mustache was watching something on his phone. The electronic music was quite loud, it almost completely covered the seductive female voice.

It somehow seemed the area behind the hotel was warmer. Wu Xiaoming double backed to the front and walked by the front door again - he was not mistaken. It could be nothing, but it could also be the coldness radiated by spirits and ghosts.

“Can I help you, sir?” The burly bald man guarding the front door walked out and asked Wu Xiaoming.

“Oh, hello sir.” Wu Xiaoming scratched his head: “I’m just - I’m just here to check out the hotel.”

“You wanna get a room here, or - ”

“I’m actually interested in the - the urban legends.” Wu Xiaoming looked the man straight in the eye, trying to catch any reaction that could intrigue him: “Sorry, sir, I guess I’m just being rude - ”

“Nah - nah - you’re good.” The man smiled and shook his head: “You’re good. We actually like that people are coming here to check out the place. If you wanna come in, I’m sure the receptionist will let you know which room is the most haunted - if that’s what you like.”

“Uh - is that so? There’s more than one haunted room?”

“Oh yeah - the entire hotel’s haunted.” The man chuckled: “But certain spots are more popular with the deceased, if you know what I mean.”

“I got you.” Wu Xiaoming smiled back: “But - wouldn’t it be kinda - dangerous?”

“Hey, I’ve been here for a while, ain’t nothing serious happened.” The man shrugged: “I heard some vloggers got a lot of views from his stay here though. Are you one of those?”

“Uh - I could be. If I stay here I’d definitely record it.”

“Good choice. Good choice.” The man extended his left hand inside the hotel: “You’re sure you don’t wanna grab a room? It’s still cheap now. Wait a bit and they’ll jack the price up!”

“Ah - ” Wu Xiaoming pretended like he struggled with the decision: “Sorry - maybe not today. I’m just here to check it out beforehand. I don’t wanna stay here alone without my friends.”

“Understandable. But you’ve gotta be sure to make your mind up fast.” The man laughed out loud: “This is just a secret, but - they might be making a show about this place. And when that happens, the place will be hard to book. You know what I’m sayin’ ?”

Wu Xiaoming did know what the man was saying. What he did not say was how horrible the traffic was when he tried to take a rideshare back home. It had been around twenty minutes, yet he could still look back and find the hotel building in his view.

“Sorry, man. You called at a bad time.” The driver apologized to Wu Xiaoming through the rearview mirror as he checked out the ETA on his phone: 54 minutes to destination, and the number was still climbing.

“Is it always this bad?” Wu Xiaoming was a bit speechless. Back in his world, this was rather common during peak hours, he just didn’t think it would be the same case here.

“Yeah. This is downtown LA, after all.” The driver shrugged: “If you called a bit later it’d be worse.”

“Say, mister, are you LA native? Can you tell me a bit about the Sproutlinger Hotel back there?” Wu Xiaoming leaned forward and asked: “I was just checking the place out, because I am very interested in the hauntings and - urban legends.”

“Born and raised.” The driver chuckled: “And yeah I CAN tell you something about it. But - let’s keep it down low, a’ight? Don’t quote me on anything I said. I’ve heard plenty, but I ain’t got no proof.”

“Of course. ”

“Well, this thing happened to a buddy of mine - he was also a taxi driver back then, ‘bout a few years back. He was driving this man, right - some kind of European rich dude. All dapper and proper and shit - no idea why a rich dude will come live in this place. But my buddy dropped the dude off, right, and got a good look at his face.” The driver waved both hands around as he told this story, he appeared to be quite familiar with the delivery already, and the traffic was helping him - he only needed to step on the brake from time to time to crawl through the traffic.

“And, just a few days later, right? When my buddy drove by the hotel again, he saw police all over the parking lot. When he asked, they told him some European tourist died in that hotel. ” The driver continued: “Turns out it was the same dapper dude. He walked up to the roof of the building and jumped right off. You know the crazy thing? They usually lock the door up and nobody should be able to go to the top. But the door was wide open, somebody, or SOMETHING, opened the door for him. ”

“What did the police say?”

“What do you think they said? They said the guy killed himself!” The driver scoffed and shook his head, rather dramatically: “But, like, who the hell would believe that? The guy came here to do business and tour, all dressed up and staying in a crappy hotel. Who would kill himself there? If that was me, I’d max out my credit cards going to Vegas and shit.”

“That doesn’t sound like a suicidal guy at all.” Wu Xiaoming half-heartedly agreed: “Did your buddy see anything weird? Heard anything weird?”

“Oh man, don’t get me started.” The driver put his right hand back on the wheel because they entered a turn: “He went into the parking lot to take a peek - the guy brought his suitcase down with him. There are stacks of cash in there, some new clothes, books and stuff. The guy’s really here to travel. Like, who the hell would go out like this?! Not me! Definitely not me!”