Thirteen found the Hyperion Hotel easily enough. The delay had been in getting her promised contribution for the night. A few bottles of some high-grade booze, and a small Zip-lock baggie tucked into her pocket, and she was at the front doors of the Hyperion, eying the young woman just inside. She recognized the girl from the boards, but hadn't asked her name. Not that it was really a concern. Names implied interest. Commitment. That wasn't the point of tonight's exercise.
It made it easier that the woman was there waiting. The awkward step of trying to check in without a name could be avoided. Thirteen rapped at the door with a knuckle, hands otherwise occupied with holding the small crate of bottles.