California Dreamin' With Taylor Fritz

It’s 7:30 in the morning at Los Angeles’ Chateau Marmont. The hotel’s famous gothic-nouveau facade is still shaded; the sun hasn’t yet risen high enough above Hollywood to brighten its alabaster balconies and broad-striped awnings. The table between the entrance’s green velvet settees has a straggler champagne glass from the night before–it’s the kind of place that doesn’t shy away from its spirited decadence, and where, perhaps more than any other hotel in the world, stars are extolled, mythologized, and sometimes even dismantled. In the morning quietude, a matte black Tesla has silently pulled up the driveway. Taylor Fritz steps out. A lithe six-foot-five, he is Southern California-handsome—longish hair, big smile, tanned skin—and he looks very much like someone who could be famous. That is to say: he fits the scene.