Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

I recalled the days of nearly five years ago at the time of working as a doorman. Returning to that job was my dream, even more than it was to get the job. The Ross kids were annoying at times, but that added to the beauty of that place. Everyone was a family. Even Mrs. Chesterfield.

The silver skies complemented the bustling, colorful city. Cabs and beautiful people adorned the streets and building, highlighting the lifestyle I was familiar with. The late workers spilling their lattes down the sidewalk and school bus drivers done picking up students and were heading back home. My cab parked along the road. The buildings, who they belonged to and when I visited them, all flooding back into my head. Some memories were off like how I thought there was a giant balcony on the side of the apartment where the penthouse was. It was missing. Maybe all those years I thought wrong, I reasoned. Maybe that’s what I expected. Cali seemed to have distorted my judgment of how fast everything was in the East, especially the Northeast. There is was: Central Park West. Or until I looked again at the street sign. St. James Avenue.

“Where’s the building at?” I yelled out to myself over the noise of engines and construction. “My home! Where’d it go?”

The cab driver opened the window right to him and called to me: “Where’d ya say you were from?”

“New York City.”

“Well, isn’t that a shame. That’s near 200 miles from here.”

“Is there anything you could do for me? Can you drive outside the state?”

“I got other people to pick up.”

My heart sunk to the pit of my stomach. What would I tell Jessie that I didn’t make it back to New York?

“I suggest you check into a hotel before you have to bargain with strangers,” the driver joked. “See ya soon!”

California reminded me of a dandelion that grew each Spring and Summer. Where I’m from it’s like a growing boy, infant to teenager and back to infant. This was the twin brother. The hotel that towered over me had a fabric emerald sign with the name, The Tipton, in golden, cursive lettering. I knew I heard the name slip from Jessie before. The phone I bought back in Cali was on 21% and was enough to phone Jessie for a quick question. Her voice was its usual raspy, half tired, but nurturing self. Not fit for a nanny of four kids, but enough to do the job.

“Hey, Tony!” she screamed through the phone. “How was the flight?”

“Great… If I took the right one.” Nerves started to shake my voice.

“Well, what does it look like there? Country? Big?”

“It’s a city and there’s some hotel here I heard you talk about. The Tipton?”

My phone sunk to 17%.

“Yes! That one! Check in there for the time being.” I loved Jessie’s cheering. “Gotta head out for another shooting day. It’s still morning over here.”

“Thank you, Jessie.”

“I’ll call you this afternoon, Tony.”

No use of keeping my phone on. I hauled my suitcase with me inside, through the revolving doors. Behind it was a dream more beautiful than the penthouse. This wasn’t a lobby I was used to seeing. A quarter of the size of a stadium. Red velvet carpet that sloped with stairs into an even bigger lounge. Crimson sofas and rosewood coffee tables were always open to anyone. Chandeliers decorated the ceiling, but so did the employees. Their emerald uniforms matched the sign outside. However, I still preferred the blood red of my uniform. I wore a bumblebee yellow sweatshirt and black jeans I regret wearing under the California sun.

I checked in at the reception desk.

Chapter Text

The hallways were pretty dim, not like the ones back at the apartment building. As I looked for my room, my stomach growled. Ugh. I must’ve looked like a mess. I haven't brushed my hair in ages, let alone wash or cut it. I was still in poor doorman mode.

A few minutes before, I checked to see if there was anything to eat. And I was really in the mood for pancakes.

Sadly…

“We don’t have any more ingredients,” said the young man behind the counter.

He wore a black shirt and suit pants with a white apron over it. It matched his black hair and blue eyes. His nametag read “Eddie.”

In the kitchen behind him, pots and pans rang against each other, along with the hissing of steam. Along with the other guests eating away at the tables behind me, everything was getting too loud.

“Are you absolutely sure?” I asked.

“Absolutely!” Eddie laughed, probably amused by all the sales they were getting. “Completely full for the night!”

“Then what’s cooking back there?”

“Um… it’s a personal project. Just experimenting with scraps until we get more stuff. Our supplier has a lot of things on their plate right now.”

This wasn’t surprising. The Waverly Sub Station back in New York had the same issue. Only this hotel was a five-star hotspot.

“But how is that possible?” I spat

“I can’t say…” He rubbed his hands together. “If I tell you, everyone will know.”

“Alright. Fine.”

I handed him a five-dollar bill anyway, just to be generous. His face lit up until the scream of boiling water came from the kitchen. The guests fell silent.

“Oh, God!” he gasped. “See you tomorrow, stranger!”

He stuffed the bill away and ran back into the kitchen, slamming the door shut.

And that was the fascinating tale of not having anything to eat since getting off of a plane.

💙💛💜

My stomach growled again as I searched my pockets for the room key.

Crash!

Something boomed from the end of the hall. The very, very long hall. My feathery legs couldn’t carry me down there, but I just had to find out what it was. As a doorman, I was confident in my ability to pick out innocent sounds versus more mysterious ones. I left my luggage at the door (good move) and started my trek down the path.

I finally reached the last door. Suite 2000.

“Everything okay in there?” I asked, knocking on the door.

No one answered. Maybe they didn’t hear me. Then I noticed.

The door was open! Not by much, but enough to get a peek. The room was huge! Giant windows lined the wall behind mahogany columns. Amber light bathed everything from a diamond chandelier above. Coming into view, a blond young man dragged a bright red guitar across the tan carpet in one hand. Actually, he looked a bit older than that. He wore a cherry leather jacket and black jeans with a chain. Kinda extravagant for the evening.

He picked up the guitar and held it properly.

“How’s this?” he asked, his smile glowing.

“Perfect!” a woman said from another part of the room. “Hold on. I’m gonna brush my teeth. Too much sugar for me today.”

“Kay. They’re gonna love this!”

My jaw dropped. I recognized that voice anywhere.

“Austin Moon!” I shouted, and cupped my mouth.

He looked around, then at the door, his eyes blooming with surprise. His smile grew, and he dashed over to open the door.

Yep, it was him.

“Sweet! A fan!” He grabbed my hand and shook it. “And you look so familiar. You’re the doorman from New York!”

“I am!” I cheered. Emma would be freaking out.

“Awesome! Come in!”

He held the door as I walked inside. The room was even bigger than I thought. There were two elevated king-sized beds, a mini kitchen, and instruments in every corner. Five suitcases sat on the floor, clothes hanging out of them.

In front of the bed was a giant marble table. With a tall stack of pancakes on a silver platter. That’s where they went!

I ran over and rubbed my hands together. They looked so delicious!

“Don’t eat them all!” someone said from across the room.

A young woman, maybe in her early twenties, stepped out of the bathroom. Wavy brown hair fell to her shoulders. She had blue eyes and wore a thin gray sweater and white sweatpants. Not as showy as Austin, but her face said something else. In an instant, I wanted to scream.

I pointed, my words evaporating on my lips. “You’re… You’re…”

She flashed a big, nervous grin and waved.

“Hannah Montana!!”

I gasped and remembered how messy I looked. I combed my fingers through my hair and brushed down my shirt.

She giggled and walked over to the table, twirling a string of floss in her fingers.

“Miley,” she said, holding out her hand. “Just Miley.”

“Oh no!” I freaked. “I forgot. Still getting used to it. I used to be such a big fan! I—”

“It’s okay. You don’t have to freak out now. Maybe a pancake will help!”

“Great!”

I picked up a plate from a stack and loaded five pancakes on it. Austin handed me a bottle of maple syrup. He leaned on the table.

“She’s helping me with my stage presence,” he explained. “Apparently it wasn’t ‘resonating’ enough, so my manager somehow recruited her.”

“Who’s paying for the stay here?” I asked.

“My record company. Once they heard we were getting Hannah Montana, they paid out! They paid for the suite, food, and anything else we wanted. And we got an up-and-coming artist to help with promotional material for the tour.”

“Can I get a look behind the scenes?”

“Uh… you have to promise you won’t let anything out. I have big things planned for my performance. And Ally Dawson is singing with me. Have you heard of her? She’s really good!”

“We know,” Miley said. “You talked more about her than the actual tour to the press.”

“And we have the best pyrotechnician in the world! He works like magic!”

Someone else tripped into the room. A teenage boy with hazel hair, wearing a color-splash T-shirt and cargos, fell to his knees. He looked college-aged. Two sketchbooks and a giant red pouch of pencils laid on the floor.

He groaned, rubbing his thigh.

I ran over to help.

“Are you okay?” I picked up the colored pencils and erasers.

“I’m fine,” he sighed. “I was just checking up on…Well, you probably know.”

I helped him up and handed him his belongings.

He said thanks, and shuffled past me towards Austin and Miley.

He twitched, I guess trying to keep a straight face.

“Hey, Fletcher! Did you get ideas for the album art?” Austin asked, patting him on the shoulder.

The boy shivered. “I can't believe I'm actually here!”

“And the artwork?”

“Oh yeah! Um… I'll get it.”

He set his books on the table and reached in his pencil case. From it, he pulled out a small plastic bag of silver glitter.

“Here it is!” he announced. “I think you should do a 'magic' theme.”

“Magic?” Austin questioned.

“Your best selling song was Illusion. And ever since, your fans suspected that all of your songs have an underlying illusionist quality. We're—I mean—they’re pretty creative. And your FX guy, Danny Sinclair? There's a rumor that he's actually a real magician! A spellcaster!”

“Really? That's awesome! I never saw real magic!”

I chimed in. “You know magic isn't real right?”

Miley giggled. “You’d be surprised by the type of people I met before. Austin has a point.”

Chapter Text

Fletcher suddenly blushed, and tossed the bag of glitter from hand to hand.

“Since I’m helping with promotion…” he stuttered. “Do you think I can get free tickets? I wanted to bring my friends from California.”

“Of course!” Miley cheered. “Anyone helping gets free tickets.”

“Cool! So when do we get started with organizing?”

“Friday, so you have some free time to play around. I’m gonna be hanging out with my friends.”

Fletcher sighed. “Lucky. I’m still getting used to the people here.”

A ringtone went off. Close your eyes, make a wish!

Miley grabbed a red phone off the table and turned it off.

“Welp, it's time for me to hit the hay!” she yawned. “And you need to get some rest too, Austin.”

Austin groaned like a little kid and grabbed a pancake off the plate. He stuffed it in his mouth and dragged himself over one of the open suitcases on the floor.

Miley waved to me. “Nighty-night, um…”

“Tony,” I said.

“Nice name. See you tomorrow, Tony.”

“You too!”

I turned to Fletcher, who was trying to close his pencil case.

“Where’s your room?” I asked.

“The floor below,” he answered, pointing to the carpet. “It’s kinda creepy going in the elevator by myself. I think they're starting to turn off the lights. Jeepers.”

“It’s just the dark. I can go with you if you want. I'm actually a studio guard in California.”

“Can you? I keep hearing about this guy who follows you around, even in your dreams. My counselor said that ever since her friend left, he's been haunting people all over the country.”

What was this guy talking about? I didn't want to judge him, though. I believe in some wacky things, too.

I smiled, and followed him out the room. He was right. The hallway was completely dark besides dim orange lights lining the walls.

Creepy. But it got worse.

My room door was wide open, and my suitcase laid in the entrance.

“What kind of maniac sleeps with the door open?” Fletcher shivered.

“That’s my room!” I raised my voice. “How did they—?”

“You don't have to walk me, you know. You should make sure your stuff is okay.”

I frowned and looked over. “Huh? Are you sure?”

“Yeah… I'll be fine. Okay?”

“O-okay… Be careful then. Night night.”

He inhaled and nodded. “Goodnight.”

He readjusted his belongings and wandered down the hall, focused on the floor.

Why did he look so gloomy? I noticed that right before he turned the corner, he pulled his phone from his pocket. Maybe it was a personal issue. I still felt bad for him, though. What kind of guard was I?

I tiptoed into my room, and flicked on the light. The room was pretty small, so it only took a second to look over.

Come on, Tony. It was probably just a staff member making sure my suitcase was safe.

I closed the door behind me and immediately changed into my pajamas. Jessie joked that my button up ones made me look like a kid, so I just wore a t-shirt and shorts instead. I honestly didn't feel like doing much else, so I turned off the lights and crawled into bed. And soon enough, I drifted to sleep.

…

I woke up to my room, tinted by the dark green curtains blocking the light outside.

My phone was fully charged beside me. So far, so good. I pulled myself out of bed and checked the time.

One in the afternoon!

So embarrassing. Jessie was already awake, and I forgot to say goodnight and good morning! I quickly texted her and put my phone on my bed.

I showered, put on a black t-shirt and pants, and brushed my hair. It grew a few inches apparently.

Once I stepped out into the hall, I heard the door close far down. A guy with reddish hair and crazy red-and-yellow clothes walked down, pointing a small camera to himself.

“That’s Day Seven lunch of preparation for Austin Moon's 'Moontober' Tour!” he exclaimed. “Well, he renamed it a second ago to the 'Magetober" tour, but I liked the first name more. Apparently, it sounded too similar to the 'Monstober' festival. Coward. I'm Dez, and I'll see you for Day Seven dinner and bedtime!”

He closed his camera and stared right at me like I was a ghost. I did look like one.

“So you're Tony?” he cocked his head. “Miley would not shut up about you. Are you famous or what?”

“Nope,” I said, my voice still croaky. “I’m just a guy.”

“Good, because I'm not supposed to be filming inside Suite 2000. But that's the sacrifice of a good filmmaker.”

“So it's lunch hour, isn't it?"

“Yep! And everyone's setting up food carts outside. How am I supposed to film the establishing shots when Jake is distracting me?!”

I scratched my chin. “Jake?”

“You’ll find him.” He rolled his eyes. “Hard-working. Incredibly beautiful. He's the worst… and he's upstaging Austin!”

He suddenly circled back around and raced back inside Suite 2000.

Okay…

After wandering absolutely nowhere, I found myself back at the same dining area from yesterday. The eaters looked way more casual: walking around, sitting on the floor, and playing music out loud.

I went over to the mahogany counter, and rang the bell sitting atop it.

A cook walked out of the kitchen. He had dark skin and a hairnet over his faded hair. His apron was green instead of white like Eddie’s, and had a name tag that read “Zeke”.

He hurried over with an irritated frown.

“If it's about the lobster—”

“It’s not,” I laughed. “I’m just hungry.”

His frown faded. “Oh! Well, I'm not a waiter. You’d have to be seated first. But—”

“I just want something to go. Like a sandwich or something.”

“Stop talking over me, first of all. And unfortunately, we're closed for now. My partner, Eddie, is getting a talking to. Sorry…”

He rubbed his neck.

“But the food carts are open outside!” he lit up. “A lot of people are getting something from them. You should try Mrs. Ivey’s dessert stand. They have the best cupcakes!”

“Oooh! Sounds good,” I said. “Thanks! And sorry for interrupting.”

He waved to me, and walked back to the kitchen.

The sun warmed everything outside, almost like Spring. Around twelve food trucks stood in a line across the street. A feast of aroma filled the air. If only Jessie was there with me.

I walked over to the one labeled “Mrs. Ivey’s”. It had a pink umbrella roof over the black and yellow body.

Then I realized: I can't just have a bunch of sugar minutes after I wake up. Luckily, right beside it stood a long, open stand labeled “Tiffany Lobster and Seafood”. Don't know why lobster and seafood were separate, but whatever.

Blue and black striped tablecloth covered the stand, with a black, tented roof. But no one was there.

I peered over the counter to see if they were hiding from me.

“Hungry?” someone asked from a few feet away.

A man dressed in a ripped pink t-shirt and khaki cargo pants walked over, carrying a giant box of fresh lobster. He dropped it next to the stand, panting. Hazel hair fell over his face and neck as he stood up. He fixed the baseball cap on his head.

He flashed a bright smile at me. “You must be Tony, huh? I'm Jake.”

“Does everyone know me?” I threw my hands up.

“Seems like it. You're pretty hard to miss.”

If this was the Jake the guy in the hall was referring to, then he was also pretty hard to miss. Everything he wore and did should've looked messy and rugged. But it's like putting rags on a model.

“Do you have crab cakes?” I spidered my fingers together, praying he did.

“Definitely,” he answered. “Homemade. My dad used to make them all the time.”

“Cool!”

“But… I ran out of ingredients. I hear the bowling alley has good crab cakes. Just a block down.”

“And you don’t make them?”

He smirked. “I don’t make the rules.”

“Fine,” I groaned. “Another walk. Can you at least show me how to get there?”

“Gotta man the stand.” He patted the table. “My friend, Michael, can help. He should be around here somewhere.”

“I’ll find it myself.”

He rested his arms on the tabletop. “Hey. You have something behind your ear.”

“I’m not a baby,” I said. “You’re lying.”

He pulled a lobster from under the table and reached my ear. Moving my hair out of the way, he started tickling my ear.

I giggled.

“Funny, huh?” Jake laughed, pulled it away. “I thought so.”

I rubbed my ear, and forced away my smile. That guy was right; he was certainly distracting.

Jake broke the lobster arm and bit off the piece of meat with modelesque moves.

“I think I’ll be going.” I stepped away. “See you tomorrow!”

Chapter Text

After thirty minutes of walking down the street, I found a bowling alley. It stood in a vacant lot, like the city was cut into to make space. The neon sign was broken, and posters cluttered the windows. Didn’t think I’d ever see one again; Jessie and I weren’t able to make it to our other bowling alley date, before.

I looked through the glass door, and went inside.

At first, I didn't see anyone.

A red bowling ball hit my ankle.

“Ouch!” I groaned. “Where’d that come from?”

“Sorry!” a man from across the room said.

He had maple skin and short, black hair. His baggy red hoodie read “Tex Bowling" in big white letters. He looked about thirty.

“Here for a game?” He smiled, and picked up the ball.

“I guess so,” I said. “Someone said you had crab cakes. And yes, I walked for thirty minutes to get here.”

“Well, whoever told you that is a liar. We get our food from random caterers.”

“Shoot.”

I looked behind him and noticed someone else, sitting on the floor. A man with fair skin and chestnut, curtain hair spun a red bowling ball in place. He wore the same hoodie as his friend. Next to him sat a giant cup of chicken poppers.

“That’s Alex,” the guy in front of me said. He held out his hand. “I’m Todd.”

“Tony!” I shook his hand and smiled.

“Tony? I could've sworn I heard that name before. Do you know Zack Martin?”

That name sounded so familiar… I might've heard Jessie mention him before.

“I think,” I sighed. “Not sure. Did he mention me?”

“A couple times, actually.”

Alex picked up the giant cup and walked over me. He scooped some of them out and handed it over. Todd nudged him.

“Just give him the bucket, Alex,” he giggled.

I picked out a few and stuffed them into my mouth. I didn’t realize how hungry I was.

“These are so good!” I cheered. “Where’d you get them?”

“Kwikki Chikki has a food cart outside,” Alex pointed to the front door behind me. “I hope it’s still open. I could get used to this.”

I smiled. “I might come back soon. Maybe I’ll bring my friend, too. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

They waved me goodbye as I left through the door. But the fun didn’t last. Of course not.

The Kwikki Chikki food truck was closed, written in giant red letters on a sign to boot. Beneath it, on notebook paper, read:

All of our workers are occupied with deliveries. Sorry for the inconvenience.

So I decided to go back inside the hotel. The sun was already setting, and I still had nothing to eat. This wasn’t new, but that doesn’t make it any better.

The lobby was already cleared of people, besides some staff cleaning up. I got in the elevator and went up to my hall.

The red-headed guy from earlier leaned against the wall, slapping the side of his camera. He wore an insane, multi-colored plaid robe and giant yellow slippers.

“Ugh!” he groaned, and turned to me. “Can you believe Austin went out without me?”

I scratched the back of my neck and shrugged. “Is that weird?”

“Uh, yes! He doesn’t go anywhere without me. Now I can’t film ‘Day Seven evening snack time’ for the behind-the-scenes film.”

“So who’s in his room? Miley?”

“Just her little friends. And Ally Dawson.”

“Huh.”

“Well, I’m gonna go downstairs and make peace with Jake. He’s making me apologize for asking for his hair-care routine.”

He marched right by me and disappeared around the corner.

I thought maybe I could check up on Suite 2000. Why not?

I walked over and knocked on the door.

“It’s open!” a man called from inside.

I opened it up and everything hit me like a wall. Blankets and pillows covered the floor. The TV blared. The covers hung off the bed like someone rolled off of it in the middle of the night.

A man in his early twenties sat on the floor with a woman. His black hair was tied back in a long ponytail, and we wore a baggy black shirt and sweatpants. The honey-haired woman drowned in a long blue robe, sharing a bag of chips with the guy.

“H-hey!” I stumbled back, and tried fixing my hair. “I heard that Miley and Austin weren’t in here, and I just wanted to see who was.”

“Oh yeah,” the woman said. “Miley’s looking for a caterer for the Magetober tour. And Austin… he’s been looking for secondary acts.”

“I thought it was just Austin and Ally’s tour.”

“But there’s also the Monstober festival happening on the same day, and a bunch of artists are performing, so why not collaborate? I heard The Cheetah Girls are reuniting for it.”

“Cool! I love them!”

Awkward silence filled the room. Even the TV stopped for a second.

“I’m Lily,” the woman said. “This is Oliver. And before you say it, I already know you’re Tony. Dez’s camera died while he was running his mouth about you.”

“I thought Miley was talking about me,” I said, puzzled.

Oliver crumpled the chip bag and looked up at me. “Yeah, her too. Can you close the door before we get another noise complaint?”

Before I could close it, a man appeared in the hallway.

He wore a yellow polo and a matching hat with a red rooster comb on top. In his hands were two giant plastic bags filled with fast food. He stared at me with surprise on his face.

“Oh! Um—” he stammered. “Order for Oliver?”

What was his deal? I answered him. “Oliver? He’s in the room.”

I stepped out of his way and let him in the room. But he stopped to look inside the bag, probably to make sure everything was intact.

“Hey, Pete!” Oliver called, and rose to his feet. “Guess wearing the chicken wasn’t enough.”

“It’s PJ,” he said, and looked up. He rose an eyebrow. “Cleatus?”

“It’s Oliver. Cleatus is my middle name.”

Lily scoffed. “No it’s not.”

“When did I ever say it wasn’t?”

“I’m your girlfriend. You’re middle name is—”

PJ shoved the bags over to Oliver. “I don’t want to talk about the chicken. Ever again.”

Another woman emerged from a corner of the room I didn’t see. She was slim, and wore her long chestnut hair down. She wore a bright yellow T-shirt that read “Sonic Boom”. I got my first kazoo from that store.

She hurried to Oliver’s side and grabbed the bags.

“Did you get the extra pickles?” she scrambled. “The Whodunit special’s airing soon!”

PJ looked back over to me, gushing a smile.

“You’re Tony, right?” he said, pointing to me. “I swear I saw you before. In New York.”

“Time to go, Pete.” Oliver pushed against PJ, guiding him back to the door.

PJ pushed his hands away. “It’s PJ. I’ll see ya at the Monstober fest. And the Magetober tour.”

He walked back through the door.

“Time for the special!” Ally cheered, running over to the bed. She jumped on and dug into the paper bag.

“Um, should I leave now?” I realized it was getting late. The sun set outside, darkening the windows. I tiptoed backwards out of the door, waiting for a response.

Lily leaned on the doorframe and crossed her arms, smiling. “I think it's best. You wouldn't like this stupid show we're watching anyway.”

“I’m more of a Crime and Judgment guy. Thanks for letting me visit.”

“Welcome. Nighty night!”

“You too!”

I waved goodbye, closing the door back.

The hall lights flickered, dimming slightly. Maybe everyone was plugged in, and that Whodunit special was way more anticipated than I thought.

Chapter Text

I woke up to footsteps rumbling in the hall, in the ceiling, and even outside. Cars honked and people shouted in the street. Some hotel.

I reached for my phone to text Jessie only to see that it had zero bars. Zero Wi-Fi. And it was twelve in the afternoon.

But just like the previous days, I had to go out and explore. I put on an indigo hoodie and white sweatpants.

Dez wasn’t in the hallway like before, and there didn’t seem to be anyone in their rooms. Unless they were very quiet.

I wondered for a second why I was even sharing a hall with Austin and Miley.

I took an elevator to the lobby. The crammed, over-populated lobby. A million kids ran around, suitcases laid on the floor, babies wailed. It was doormageddon A teenage girl constantly mashed the button next to the elevator I stood in.

“Hey, can I get in?” she asked. She had short black hair, deep brown eyes, and wore a blue-and-black striped trench coat with multi-colored buttons. It seemed like everyone was better dressed than me.

“Of course,” I said, and moved out of the elevator.

She smiled, but she didn’t move.

“I heard about you!” she pointed to me. “My friend said he met someone who looks like you. Did you see a college guy with fluffy, orangey hair? Carries a sketchbook with him?”

“I did!” I exclaimed. “Are you talking about Fletcher? The artsy one?”

“Yeah! Do you know where he is? I couldn’t text him for the room number. My signal is out!”

“Yours too?”

Then I realized. All those people yelling and wandering around were complaining to staff about the cell service.

“I’m Andi,” she reached out her hand for me to shake. “With an ‘I’.”

“I’m Tony with a ‘Y’.” I patted an invisible name tag on my chest. “Sorry you can’t find your friend.”

“It’s okay. Although, I just remembered he was scared of elevators. And people. At least I know he didn’t leave his room.”

“I’m trying to go everywhere but my room.”

“Oooh! You should go to the skate park! I was just there. It’s behind The Tipton.”

“Great! I was planning on fixing my skating skills.”

Andi giggled. “Yay! I’ll see you soon! Bye!”

“Bye!”

She walked away, and nearly tripped over a suitcase.

But now it was time to find the skate park. Geez.

I left out of the front door and walked around the side of the building, which was more exhausting than I expected. But that wasn’t the end of it. Though Andi was technically right about the park being behind the hotel, she didn’t say it was part of an actual park a mile away. I walked over a small bridge overlooking a giant lake, through a huge parking lot of fallen bikes, and an arched entrance.

The actual skate pool looked like an abyss set in the middle of a field. The city stood in the distance, along with a wooden playground and benches. Very natural and scenic.

It was sadly disturbed by the metal eyesore on the edge of the pool.

A giant, beeping server bank doubled as a desktop for a giant computer monitor. A huge DirecTV satellite dish leaned on it like a decorative dinner plate. Sticking out the most was the enormous, long telescope sitting on top of it all. Blue lights blinked on every part of the desk.

I crept closer.

A lean man with poorly combed black hair and a white lab coat looked through the telescope. A red heart rate line wiggled on the monitor, and everything started beeping like an old dial-up connection.

“Cetus-Lupeedus!” he shouted. “The myth is true!”

“Hey there,” I hesitated. “What’s all this?”

He hit his nose on the telescope as he looked over and groaned.

“Are you okay?” I panicked. I reached in my pocket for my band-aids.

He chuckled, and thumbed his nose. “I’m fine! I’m just excited. We’re working on a giant space project. I am, at least. But when I was looking through the lens, I found the perfect spot for it! I just have to record it on my—”

A bright yellow rollerblade struck the front telescope lens. The thin wheels stuck out, hanging by the cracked glass.

“NOOO!” the man yelled. “Now I have to borrow another one!”

One guy skated out of the pool, while another blond man walked up a set of stairs to the edge. The first was pale, with inky hair to his shoulders. He wore a black T-shirt and matching cargo pants.

“Guess you have to move your little toy somewhere else, huh Mike?” He smirked, crossing his arms. “You’re not taking off after all.”

“This is the clearest spot to look through the atmosphere!” the man exclaimed. “Now it’s ruined.”

“It was Brink’s skate, not mine.”

“Stop bullying him, Val.” The other blond man panted, limping over on one skate. He sat on the concrete to take it off.

Stringy hair fell over his face from his yellow helmet, and he wore the same shirt his friend did. They both looked to be in their early thirties, and full of energy.

He put on a pair of bulky, red sneakers. I rushed over to help him up.

“Hi!” I waved.

“Hey,” he said, his voice still shaky. “I’m Andy.”

Hmm, another “Andy”.

“I’m Tony!” I grabbed and shook his hand.

He pulled away and laughed. “You guys are weird.”

“Who?”

“I dunno. Just you and the others like you. You’re all dressed like clowns.”

I just nodded as he walked over to Mike’s telescope. He yanked the skate out of the lens and brushed it off like it took most of the damage.

“What were you even doing with this piece of junk anyway?” he laughed.

Mike groaned. “Well, it was for observing the perfect spot for a space station. Best part? There was no life there, so no one to get angry at us.”

“You mean aliens?” I questioned. “You know they aren’t real, right?”

“Uh, aliens are 100% authentic! I’ve seen them before with my own two retinas! I would’ve had pictures if they weren’t corrupted in the event.”

“The event?”

“Y2K. I still have my old animations, though. Whatever. I can still get everything fixed. They're not as bad as Zeke and Luther. They tried to get me to sponsor them.”

“So you're definitely the one taking everyone's internet, right?”

“Uh, duh. But it's a necessary evil.”

Val, the mean one, patted me on the back. “To be fair, you people these days don't even know what reality is. But I will admit, your shoes are super zoog.”

“Zoog?”

“Yep!”

“I don't know what that means, but thanks. What—”

Bzzz, bzzz! My phone vibrated in my pocket.

I pulled it out.

“Jessie!” I gushed. She was calling me!

I accepted the call, but tragedy struck. Instead of her voice, I heard the beeping of a hung up call.

“No!” I groaned. “Ugh. I'm gonna go back inside. I think I'm hungry.”

“Biologically, it'd be better to stay in the sun and eat then stress-eating indoors,” Mike rambled. “But you do you. I'll order a new telescope in the meantime.”

“Thanks. See ya.”

I don't know what I was even thanking him for. I didn't exactly learn anything besides the fact that I'm spot and I'm dressed like a clown.

I trekked back to The Tipton. Luckily, the sun hid away behind the graying clouds. After twenty minutes, I made it back inside.

The lobby was cleared, with people either walking outside or wandering into random hallways. I got inside an elevator, and went back to the second floor.

But returning to my own room wouldn't be that fun. The door of Suite 2000 was wide open. And even though it might be rude, I imagined me and the residents were somewhat friends now.

I walked into the room. The white light from the big, open windows made the room ten times bigger.

In the far corner of the room, Oliver hunched over a keyboard at a desk. The monitor he stared at was huge.

I tiptoed over, trying not to scare him.

He wore a long black shirt and gray shorts, with his hair laid over his shoulders. Being friends with a celebrity must've been great. Looking effortlessly cool while lounging in pajamas.

He used a custom joystick for his game instead of the keyboard, and kept reaching inside a bag of fruit gummies.

“Am I interrupting?” I asked. I didn't realize he had a headset on.

“You’re cool,” he muttered. “I’m not winning this stupid game anyway.”

“What’s the game? I've only ever played pony fan games.”

“Hero Rising. I'm playing against this Aaron Stone guy. He's really good.”

“Really? I heard of that game! I actually have something to help.”

I quickly ran back to my room. Don't ask, but in my suitcase, I had a hardcover copy of a bunch of hacks and cheats for different games. Luke gave it to me as a present, mostly so I could impress Jessie with knowing her favorite game. I still couldn't play it well, but that was okay.

I returned to Oliver with the book, and handed it to him.

“Gamer’s Guide to Pretty Much Everything,” he read. He traced the cover with his fingers. “This is premium stuff! Where'd you get this?”

“A friend,” I said. “I was planning on returning it, but I guess I have to wait.”

“Kirby Buckets drew the pictures? He's so good! Have you seen the stuff he posted?”

“I should check it out!”

“Wow… thanks, Tony!”

Oliver opened to the table of contents. The game on his computer continued in the background. A chat box scrolled at a million miles a second.

“Wait, isn't the Internet out?“ I asked. “How are you doing that?”

“Um… I have a friend. He's really good with technology.”

“Really? What about cell service? I really need to call my girlfriend.”

“No! It's gonna hurt him—I mean, it's stressful being a teenage mechanic and all.”

“Oh, I get it. Too bad.”

I sighed and started walking for the door. But I had a thought burning in my head…

“Hey, you don't believe in psychic powers, right?” Oliver turned around in his chair, laughing. “Specifically technology-based ones?”

“Wizards, aliens, now technopaths?” I snarked. “No.”

“Okay. Just had to get it off of my chest.”

I left the room, and decided to finally get some breakfast. I didn't want to be a hungry mess when I finally called Jessie.

I took the elevator downstairs to the lobby.

Chapter Text

In the cool lobby, Fletcher curled up on a sofa reading a book. He wrapped a colorful blanket around himself.

The sky outside darkened quicker than usual. Thunder roared outside as people hurried through the front doors.

“Hey, Fletcher!” I waved, and walked over to the chair. “You’re not scared of the rain, are you?”

His hands shivered before he looked up. “Oh! Definitely not. I'm not a baby.”

“Me neither! You know how many storms I had to look at in the lobby when I was a doorman? It could definitely be worse.”

“Totally… but The Midnight Society wrote—”

“Oh, come on, Fletcher. Reading a bunch of weird stories isn't helping you.”

“I’m just saying that you never know what could happen. Something might seem completely normal on the outside, but on the inside, it's a completely different world. Or maybe that's my inner artist speaking.”

“So you're not afraid of the rain?”

Fletcher shut the book and held it in the air. “I solemnly swear.”

The thunder roared again. Rain flooded the street outside. I prayed that Mike had an umbrella for his contraption.

Then, all of the lights cut out.

“But I am afraid of the dark…” Fletcher quivered, covering himself in his blanket.

“No, no, no!” I panicked. “Don’t worry! It won't last that long.”

“Fletcher?” I heard a woman's voice from a distance.

With all the murmuring and whimpering toddlers, I couldn't tell where it came from. I felt someone approach the sofa. Whoever it was shined a flashlight at me.

There was a white woman with a curly blonde ponytail, wearing a gray and black floral blouse. She held onto the back of the chair and cracked a smile.

“Oh, hi there!” she beamed.

Fletcher looked up at her and waved. “Hey, Miss Piggy!”

“Miss Frances.”

Fletcher stood up and held the flashlight for her. He walked over to me.

“Her middle name is Bacon,” he laughed. “She’s my counselor.”

“You have a counselor?” I asked. “I’m sorry. I didn't know that.”

“She just helps calm me down.”

Miss Frances walked over and shook my hand. “Hi there! You must be Tony. I was told about you!”

“Another fan!” I smiled. “Were you here the whole time?”

“Yeah. Fletcher said he was scared of the storm, so I hurried over. But I love the storm! It's so spooky. It fits the whole Hauntober look. I can't wait for the festival!”

“You mean the Monstober festival?”

“Yeah. I forgot about the name change. Anyway, let's go find Fletcher's room before The Midnight Society makes him another page in a book.”

I turned on my phone flashlight for extra help. I left my mini flashlight in my suitcase.

💙💛💜

Fletcher led us into a hallway, with all of the rooms starting with 0. I had no idea how the numbering system worked if the 2000th room was just on the second floor.

We stopped in front of the very last room at the end of the hall. Room 011.

The lights finally turned back on, brighter than before.

Fletcher sighed in relief and pulled the blanket off his head. “Finally! Freedom!”

“Aww.” Frances slouched. “I thought it was cool. I guess no spooky adventures. Not zoog at all.”

“Wait a minute.” I pointed to the room. Taped to the door was a black piece of paper with large white text reading Severe Violation. Beneath it was a printed letter in plain text.

I pulled it off the door and read it:

Dear Fletcher Quimby, artist, animator, and friend,

You have been spotted throwing away non-biodegradable, plastic glitter in the wrong trash can by an anonymous Star-Friend. Because of this, you are on 0ur list of hotel guests to watch out for. Remember to always check to see how things are disposed of, and refer to the Healthy Handbook for hygiene-specific resources. Just one little action can change the planet, starting with you.

-Send it on, Friends for Change.

I handed it to Fletcher. “They're out for your head.”

“Who reported me?” he complained. “It’s just a bag of glitter. I was never reported for throwing away my oil paint!”

“At least you actually threw away the glitter,” Frances said. “My school used to think I was a master prankster in the 90s.”

She opened the door and turned on the light.

The room was bare, besides the colorful tote bags under the bed.

In the middle of the floor was a big mahogany wooden box with buttons and stickers glued all over it. A rainbow quilt covered the top of it.

Fletcher picked it up and pulled off the cloth.

“Oh my gosh!” he cheered. “Look!”

He rushed back over to us and showed us what was inside. Paint brushes, paint tubes, and multicolored velvet fabric bags of other decorations filled it to the brim. Tucked between the supplies was a laminated, pink note written in Sharpie.

Fletcher picked it out and read it over:

From Andi!!! Environmentally friendly art supplies. Also, here's a gift for you and your crush.

He turned the note over. On the back was a gift card for a place called The Spoon.

Fletcher's face turned red.

“Awww!” Frances gushed. “Is it who I think it is?”

“No one…” he smiled. “Andi just misheard me. I was talking about the country, not the person.”

I hid my laughter with my sleeve.

“Aw, don't be embarrassed!” I patted him on the shoulder. “I had five first dates with my girlfriend before.”

“At least you could actually get a date,” Fletcher said. “It’s been kind of a rollercoaster for me.”

Chapter Text

I went back into the lobby for some reason. Maybe it was my natural habitat. It started to clear outside, and the pouring rain stopped.

A black car pulled up by the front entrance.

A young man and a woman stepped out of the front seat, both in long, black raincoats. As soon as they looked into the glass door, I knew who it was.

I hurried outside to meet them.

Austin Moon dressed in a white leather jacket and black pants. Miley wore a blue beanie over a long, blonde wig, and black shades. Unfortunately.

Miley scoffed at me. “I know, I know! Not the best disguise…”

I looked over at Austin. “Where’s your disguise?”

He shrugged.

“Well, as long as you keep your head down, Miley, you should be fine,” I suggested. “The lobby's pretty clear.”

She nodded. “Before we do that…”

Austin pulled out a folded piece of notebook and handed it to me.

“A list,” he whispered. “We want you to help with the Monstober fest.”

    “What about Magetober?” I asked.

    “Basically both. Don’t worry. We have others helping too.”

    “Oh, cool!”

Miley looked around the street and over to the front hotel door. “We should get inside before they figure me out.”

I giggled. “Yeah. Try to hurry.”

Austin put his arm around her and guided her inside since her head was down. But as I walked over to them, I heard something fall on the pavement.

Crrkkk!

    “Oh God!” someone said from a few feet away.

I looked around. A few yards down the road, I sat a hand peak back behind the side of the building. Even though someone could drown in the massive puddles, I sprinted over, anyway. My shoes and pant legs were soaked.

The sky brightened to a dust white, and the mist started to fade.

A young woman with wavy blond hair and a baggy teal hoodie leaned on the bricks, feverishly studying her small camera. She looked concerned, and wiped it off with the end of her jacket.

I walked up to her.

    “Are you okay?” I asked. “Is your camera broken?”

She pressed a button, and her eyes lit up. She sighed in relief.

    “It’s fine, now,” she stuttered with a smile. “I dropped it in a puddle. I-I thought I lost my video.”

    “Good! Are you staying at the hotel?”

    “No no no. I’m at a cheaper one down the street. I’m here for Monstober.”

I pointed to myself. “Hey, I’m helping set up Monstober! Are you going to the Magetober concert, too?”

    “I think so… But I only had enough for three tickets. I need a fourth one for my little sister. It’s for her—well— belated birthday. I didn’t have enough to get her anything, so I’m doing a big birthday bonanza to make up for it. She turned ten.”

    “Congrats!”

She looked anxious, and peaked around the corner.

    “Did Miley Stewart see me?” she glanced back.

    “Not at all…” Then I realized. “Were you recording them?”

She gave a hollow laugh. “No… yeah.  It’s for the bonanza thing. She’s a super fan.”

    “Maybe I can get you an autograph. I’m her friend. Well, acquaintance.”

    “Oh my God! Really?”

    “Of course!”

She clapped her hands together.

    “Tomorrow at 12, I’ll meet you here and I’ll give it to you,” I said.

    “Thanks, stranger! I’m Teddy.”

We shook hands.

    “Tony,” I laughed. “I hope your video turned out well. I should go.”

Her smiled faded for a moment. “Okay. I should head back, too! My brother probably ruined my hotel room by now.”

    “See you tomorrow?”

    “Yeah! Thanks, Tony.”

I waved, and hurried back to the front of the building.

I guess she didn’t notice Austin for whatever reason. Maybe his clothes were fan-repellant or something. But he is famous, so I don’t know how that works.

Chapter Text

Before I went to bed, I looked over the list Austin gave me. Though I was honored, I didn't realize the scope of what I was expected to do. But I brushed that off and set the note on the nightstand. I had to get a good night's sleep before the big day. Well, one of the big days.

💙💛💜

Crashhh!!!

I sprung up from my dream and stared around my room. Still black outside, with a tinge of blue.

I got up and put on my slippers and my robe. Jessie had gifted me a blue and black plaid one for Christmas, but that's besides the point.

I peered out into the hall. The lights of Suite 2000 were on, and I heard murmuring through the cracked door.

I walked over.

Miley and Lilly sat on the bed in colorful pajamas, while Austin and Ally sat on the floor, arguing with them. Lilly rubbed her forehead and sighed amidst the chatter.

    “But Magetober doesn’t exactly say ‘Austin Moon’, does it?” Miley spouted. “It could be anyone!”

    “It was Moontober!” Austin said. “Yeah, the name is different, but it’s still our tour. Austin and Ally’s tour! The others can perform for Monstober, not us.”

    “He has a point, Miley,” Lilly yawned, scratching her head. “We can’t let another artist creep into his tour. You wouldn’t have.”

Miley sighed, and slid off of the bed. “You’re right. Sorry, guys…”

She went silent and looked up at me.

    “Tony?”

    “Oh, I didn’t mean—” I trembled. “Sorry! I just heard a—”

Crashhh!!!

A dinner chair fell on the floor from across the room. Fletcher, in a red robe, knelt on the ground to pick it up while holding a bowl of oatmeal.

    “Fletch, that’s the second time!” Austin said with concern. “You have to go back to bed. You already dropped your sketchbooks on the floor.”

    “I need to finish my poster,” Fletcher yawned, lifting the chair back up.

Austin walked over to support him. “But you already finished ours. You just have to do the album art. Right?”

    “No… it’s not that.”

Austin looked over to Miley, who wandered beside him. They both looked confused.

    “What do you mean?” she asked.

    “I-I was commissioned by another artist. My friend is helping me, but… it’s still a lot of work.”

    “Who’s the artist?”

    “C-Christopher Wilde.”

Ally got up and rubbed Austin’s shoulders, calming him down. But he glared at Fletcher. Like he betrayed him. His black robe and messy hair made him look frazzled and angered.

    “Did it really have to be him ?” he snickered. “It couldn't have been anybody else?”

    “It doesn’t mean I think his music is better or anything!” Fletcher waved his hand. “It’s just money. Something I kind of need right now. And you have to admit, you and him aren’t that different. I thought you were inspire—”

    “At first! Not anymore. We’re nothing alike! I don’t need another clone. Now we have the same artist, too?”

He pulled away from Ally and sat on the bed beside Lilly. Fletcher set his bowl on the counter near him and rubbed his eyes. He grabbed a red satchel off of a chair and walked over to me. Everyone’s eyes followed him, like they expected him to say something.

    “I’m gonna go to my room,” he whispered.

I held the door for him, and we left together into the dark hallway.

His eyes drifted open and close as we walked, but he pulled out his phone to scroll through. It was dim with a heavy filter, so it didn’t seem to strain him.

    “I was going to use the money for a gift,” he mentioned.

    “Really?” I asked. “For who?”

    “Doesn’t matter. But that’s not the only gift. I’m giving autographs to my other friend, too.”

    “Autographs? Please, Fletcher—Can I have one?”

    “From me?”

    “No! Miley!”

    “What? I’m sorry, I can’t. This is for my friend. Can’t you just ask her yourself? I don’t think any of them want to see me right now…”

I rubbed my neck and thought about it. Hassling Fletcher about it wouldn't be productive.

“You’re right,” I said. “I’ll go ask. And you should go to sleep. You need help to your room?”

He lazily shook his head and typed something on his phone. His voice was hollow. “It's okay. Thanks, Tony. I'll see you after my hibernation.”

“See ya.”

I felt so bad. Not only was he tired, but upset over being yelled at by Austin. And under the pressure to finish his artwork. I wished I could help, but maybe I had to stop it at the source. Austin couldn't have been that upset at a college kid.

But I remembered the to-do list I was given. It would be twelve o'clock soon. I thought, maybe I should let everyone cool off before asking for autographs.

💙💛💜

Blue lit the horizon as I walked into the lobby. The yellow lights were dim, and only a few staff walked around. I wore a black hoodie and gray sweatpants, so hopefully my destination wasn't very formal.

I sat down in a chair and read off my list again. Until…

A plump woman, probably in her very early twenties, strutted in. Her wavy black hair hung over her shoulders, and her sparkly, cheetah print hoodie and pants lit up the room. She took off a gray tiger striped barret and held it high in the air.

“Guess who got a job as your temporary manager!” she cheered. “And a waitress, but whatever.”

She hurried over to me and handed me a wad of cash.

“Holy Washington!” I shouted. “This is all for me?”

“It is if you promise to never say that again.” She smiled. “We need to put on the charm if we want people to take us seriously. But according to Ally, that shouldn't be an issue for you…”

She clapped her hands together. “Let’s go. Oh! And I'm Trish.”

Chapter Text

The air was cool, though the rainwater didn't fully dry yet.

We passed through a cozy street, with cars parked on the road and few people walking with coffee.

We stopped in front of a tall, wide brick diner squeezed between two other shops. A sign hung above the umbrella roof with bold red text that read Pat’s Smart Kitchen with a white outline.

We walked inside, a bell ringing above us.

The cozy air hugged us immediately. The cherry red tiles and peach walls brought everything together. It looked like a giant 50s kitchen, which explained the name of the restaurant. Despite being seven in the morning, most of the tables and booths were filled.

A waitress came up to us, wearing a black apron with white frills. She led us to a seat in the corner by a window. I noticed then that the booth looked like couches with a big coffee table in the middle. At the edge of the table sat a mini drink dispenser, with stacked mugs and glass cups.

    “Oooh! I like this place already!” I said, and picked up a salt shaker.

Then, it glowed blue, and a woman’s voice came from it.

Good morning! I’m Pat! Let’s start with a drink.

    “We need a menu first,” Trish said with a smile.

Oops! Let me get that for you!

Two red robot arms extended from under the table with two big stationery notepads. Trish and I nearly jumped from our seats.

Choose wisely!

I flipped open the notepad. Blue and red swirls decorated the page, with everything written in a handwritten font. It was meant to look like a grocery list!

Trish traced her finger over the paper. “Chicken pot pie? Dez would love this place.”

    “I’ll get a vanilla coffee to start,” I said.

    “Lemonade for me.”

I’ll get those for you. Grab a mug and a cup. Watch this!

Trish and I grabbed some cups and set them under the dispenser taps. In seconds, hot coffee and milk poured into my mug, and ice cold lemonade into Trish’s glass.

It’s best to drink shortly after you start eating. Enjoy!

    “Who’s hungry?” a man asked, walking over to our table. He had gray eyes, short, deep brown hair, and wore a black dress shirt and pants. He carried a notepad and a red pen. “I suggest the tuna noodle if this is your first time being here.”

    “That sounds great!” I said.

Trish giggled, hiding her mouth with her sleeve.

    “What?” I turned to her.

    “Oh, nothing!” she waved, and sipped her lemonade.

    “And it is nothing,” the man stressed. “I’m Ben, by the way. Wait a minute…”

He squinted at both of us, pointing his pen. “Are you here for the Monstober catering thing?”

    “Indeed we are!” I raised my finger. “She’s Trish. And I’m Tony. And we’re here to… I’m not sure.”

    “We’re just making sure you have the resources and cooks to cater for the event,” Trish explained. “And because we’re hungry. You-know-who wants us to bring him back some pancakes to ‘taste test’.”

    “I have an idea!” he exclaimed. “Why don’t you come into the kitchen to see what we’re up to? You can watch us prepare your food. I bet other restaurants wouldn’t allow that. And your food is on the house!”

💙💛💜

Ben led us through two wooden doors into the homely kitchen. I question if it was even a restaurant. It looked right out of a house, besides the multiple countertops and stoves lining through the room. People in chef's uniforms walked around, checking stovetops, ovens, and washing the surfaces. Everything smelled like brewing coffee.

    “Like the place?” Ben asked. “I won it in a sweepstakes.”

    “You won this in a sweepstakes?” I mused. “I can’t even win a pencil.”

I looked around and noticed two bulky flatscreen TVs sitting in a square hole in the wall. They were the size of an old computer monitor. A small wooden table with a keyboard and mouse sat in front of them.

They sat at the end of the room, like they were the bosses of the operation.

Trish still skimmed over her menu, and found something she wanted.

    “I’ll take the gingerbread pancakes,” she told Ben.

Ben smiled. “Great! What about you, Tony?”

I shook my head and looked back at them. “I’ll have the same thing. But I really want the tuna noodle too… so I’ll get both.”

The cooks giggled to themselves. I cocked my head. Ben sighed and glared at all of them with a small smile.

    “Stop laughing! It’s just a rumor, guys!” he said. “You’re the cooks! You would know.”

    “What’s the rumor?” I asked.

    “Rumor. I should’ve said creepypasta. ‘Rumor’ implies it actually came from somewhere. And I’m not gonna say it.”

Trish laughed, cupping her mouth.

One of the TVs flashed on, with a pale blue background.

Hello, Trish and Tony! It was Pat, the same voice from our table, with corresponding black, serif text. I’ll keep your drinks’ temperatures regulated while you are not consuming them.

    “That’s my mom,” Ben said with a grin. “ Well, my other mom. I have a stepmom named Sara.”

    “I heard about you on the news a million years ago!” I pointed to him. “I was in the fourth grade, I think.”

He is truly timeless, Pat said. Her screen turned yellow, with a black smiley face in the middle. My little sweetie pie!

The other computer turned on, with a coral pink screen and a gold smile emoticon. Her voice sounded like a young woman, maybe in her late teens.

Good morning! No one told me it was time to get up!

Pat displayed a sad face. Loretta, honey, you forgot your captions.

Whoops! Sorry!

Golden text with a black border appeared, with a white dot above it, jumping from syllable to syllable like an old sing-along.

Loretta continued. My band and I will be performing at the Monstober event! And we have a sweet costume designer. Raven Baxter. Have you heard of her? Would you like to see my outfit?

Pat sighed. That’ll ruin the surprise, sweetie.

You’re right, Pat. They can use their superior human imaginations. Hehe.

I looked at my watch. It was eight o’clock.

    “How long until our food is finished?” I asked.

    “Maybe thirty minutes,” Ben said, setting his notepad on a nearby counter. “Why? In a rush?”

    “Kinda. I need to get something from our hotel by twelve.”

    “No worries, Tony.” Trish patted me on the back. “I’ll wait for you. But if you take  too long, you’re getting me a second strawberry lemonade.”

I smirked. “Deal. I’ll be right back.”

Chapter Text

I hope all this exercise pays off! I ran from the restaurant, down the sidewalk, until I FINALLY found the Tipton. The gray sunlight bathing the streets made me want to turn around, though. That couldn't be a good sign.

A small crowd of seven stood at the entrance. Uh oh. Paparazzi. I ran over to them.

One of them was a tall, ginger man with big glasses and a gray windbreaker. He peaked through a TV camera propped on his shoulder.

I crossed his view, which made him groan.

“Listen, are you a magic user?” he pushed.

“A what?” I looked around to make sure he was talking to me. “Definitely not.”

A young woman tapped me on the shoulder with a pen. She wore a similar windbreaker. The overcast drained her wavy blond hair and sky blue eyes of their color, but her round face lit with excitement.

“Have you seen any magicks?“ she quizzed. “Anyone who sneaks up on you, suspiciously fast, instant reflexes?”

“What? A vampire?” I giggled. “No. I didn't see any… magicks?”

“I’m Allyson. I run a YouTube channel and a blog for rediscovering magic. It's called Now You See It. I—”

“Good. I thought you were Hot Tunes TV. Wait… rediscover?”

The camera guy snickered. “Duh. I didn't believe it before, but it wasn't belief. It was oblivion! Once I saw it, the world felt complete.”

“Okay…” I walked over to the entrance. “You work on that. See ya.”

💙💛💜

I hurried through the lobby and into an elevator. As soon as it stopped, I sped down the bright hallway to Suite 2000.

A mini chalkboard hung on the door, reading: just come in (unless you're a celebrity).

Was it too early for this? Whatever. I pulled out the sparkly blue birthday card Teddy gave me yesterday.

I slowly opened the door to see a dull, gray room. Silence besides the quiet TV playing. Gray curtains blocked the giant windows besides one, shining on Austin Moon. He sat on the foot of the bed, drowned in a black robe and a matching blanket.

Ally Dawson hugged his side and rested her head on his shoulder, but it didn’t seem to work. His intense blue eyes glared up at me.

    “Tony?” he spoke, flatly. “Do you need something?”

    “I…” I hid the card behind my back. “I need to talk to Miley.”

He pointed his head to the right, then continued to slum.

    “Thanks,” I muttered.

The small kitchen sat further in the room, where an amber light brightened the area. I didn’t realize how colorful it was. Cherry red stove, blue cabinets, a green tea kettle…

Dez spun a spatula with his fingers, staring into a pan of smoking pancake batter. His pajamas blended with the kitchen, being every color under the sun. Unlike Miley, who tapped her feet with her hands on her hips in a dust blue nightgown.

The smoke clouded in the air.

    “Um, are you gonna flip that over?” I asked, and pulled my shirt over my nose.

    “I would, if Miley wasn’t so impatient,” Dez complained. Was he serious?

    “I thought those were for little golden toes,”  Miley snarked.

    “Yeah, but I can’t do anything with you standing there judging me.”

    “Stop swinging the spatula around and flip them! They’re burning!”

    “Amateur.”

Dez scooped the batter up and flipped it over perfectly. Golden brown. Not a charred piece in sight. Miley’s jaw dropped.

    “See?” Dez said. “I have the world record for longest cooking time for pancakes without burning. Or was that Austin’s…”

    “Miley,” I asked. “Do you mind signing this card for me? It’s for a friend. She’s a huge fan.”

    “Of course!” she beamed.

I handed her the card and a Sharpie marker from my pocket. She scribbled her name.

    “Miley… Stewart…” She smiled and handed it back to me. “There you go! Hope she likes it. My hands are kinda shaky because breakfast is taking forever. Right, Dez?”

Dez looked through a few cabinets in front of him. They were totally empty.

    “Fletcher ate all of the oatmeal,” Miley sighed. “It’s okay, Dezzy. I’m just in a bad mood cuz of… you know.”

    “Well, not anymore!” Dez shifted the pancakes onto a paper plate. He popped open a bottle of syrup and poured it on.

He grabbed a fork and quietly approached Austin. He held it under his nose.

“Hey, buddy,” Dez said. “Look! Made them from scratch. They're all yours.”

Austin sighed and brushed the drooping hair from his face. His scowl faded, but he definitely wasn't happy.

“Guess that's my queue to leave,” I said.

“Oh, too bad,” Miley sighed, patting me on the shoulder. “You’ll still be around for the lobby decorating, right?”

“Of course! Can't wait! I'm thinking of dressing up as a door-monster . Like, doorman, but—”

“I get it, Tony. Cute.”

“Thanks! I—”

My phone buzzed. I checked it to see a text from Trish:

Hey, Tones! I'm bringing the food back to the hotel lol. I'm sleepy 😴. Nxt time let's go in the afternoon 🌅.

Phew. I was getting nervous that I'd have to run back to the restaurant.

“When does the decorating begin, Miles?” I asked.

“At 8:00 pm, when everyone's off of work and school,” Miley said. “We have lots of volunteers.”

“Awesome. I'm gonna start early.”

Chapter Text

I went to find the elevator at the end of the gloomy hall. My stomach growled. Hungry and incredibly tired? Now I had to give the birthday card to Teddy and start decorating the lobby?

The doors slid open… to nothing. Just a metal abyss where it should've been. It sounded dangerous, but I peeked into the shaft and looked up. Just an ascent to black.

“No way,” I whispered. “What the—”

Then someone grabbed my arm and pulled me into the dark. The doors shut.

Oh no. I was floating, surrounded by darkness. My chest rose. I couldn't see! I leaned against the wall and slipped to the floor…

The floor. An invisible floor.

I gasped. “Wha—”

Whisper, hiss, hiss…

Suddenly, an amber light flashed above me. The elevator was back! The bronze carpet, the mahogany walls…

Standing in front of me was a woman with wavy black hair and shadowy clothes. Black pants, black jacket, and silver boots. She tucked something in her purple satchel.

“Holy smokes!” I muttered. “You came out of nowhere. What? Where—”

“Ready for spooky season?,” she beamed. “Happy Monstober!”

“I can't be… I saw it! The elevator was gone. You pulled me in here, didn't you?”

She sighed, and knelt down in front of me. Her smile faded.

“I'm trying to lay low,” she whispered. “Those bloggers outside the hotel are… nevermind. I'm here to decorate the lobby, but I just can't right now.”

“Wait… are you a—”

“No. But they'll think I am. I can't get into it right now.”

“Hey. I think I saw you before. From the Sub Station. You're Alex!”

She smirked. “Well, I didn't think I was that unique.”

“I’m Tony. And trust me: I can get those bloggers off of your tail. I had to use my words and impeccable charm to ward off loiterers when I was a doorman.”

“Wow! Thanks. And I promise I won't turn the elevator invisible again.”

She giggled.

“So you did do it,” I asked, softly. “It was really invisible?”

Her face went pale. She stammered. “I mean, it's just a trick. Of the lights! I… I did. You weren't imagining things. But I can't explain. Just stay still…”

She reached into her pocket and mouthed something. I flinched and jumped to my feet.

“Don’t try anything on me,” I demanded, and pulled my pepper spray from inside my jacket. I didn't plan on actually using it, though. I knew it felt awful.

“I’m not, I swear!” She groaned as if I interrupted her and took out a thin, intricately carved, wooden stick. The black surface shimmered under the elevator light. She raised the tip to my forehead. It glowed a beautiful magenta.

Alex whispered. “Simplify your mind, leave that thought—”

She stopped herself. Her breathing slowed.

“Are you a hypnotist?” I stuttered, still holding my pepper spray. “Was that thing just glowing?”

“No…” she hinged, lowering her stick. “I’m not a hypnotist. But I am an illusionist.”

“So you are a magick? Like those bloggers are looking for?”

She sighed. “Yeah. But I can only do a few things! I can make you see things differently, but I see it normally. Get it?”

I nodded slowly, though I didn't really believe her. “I do. I'll go get those bloggers away. You stay hidden, and I'll come and tell you when I'm done."

Chapter Text

Well, me and Alex stood in awkward silence as the elevator descended to the lobby. Since it was midday, guests walked around the room, with their luggage piling up on the walls.

Alex hid away from the elevator door as I stepped out. I hurried through the revolving door and into the fall air. The bloggers still stood around, taking pictures and notes.

“You do know that hotels don’t close,” I said. “Why don’t you just, I dunno, head inside? There are lots of weirdos who would believe in your quest of magic.”

Allyson rolled her eyes and clicked her pen close. “I’m sure there are, but we’ll look too obvious just walking in.”

“Then don’t look obvious!”

“Where am I supposed to put my camera?”

“Don’t bring it. Or, here’s an even better idea, why don’t you come back at nighttime.”

She cocked her head. “Why?”

“Magic doesn’t dwell in daylight, does it honey?”

She tapped her chin with her pen. “Hmm… you make a good point, sir. Danny wasn’t the biggest ‘sunshine and rainbows’ type of guy. Anyway, I guess I’ll see you later! But when we do come back, I expect magic.”

“That’s the beauty of a mystery. Some things are better left unfound.”

“Fine. Bye bye.”

“See ya around.”

She smirked and waved for her friends to follow behind her. She stuffed her notepad in her bag and walked down the sidewalk.

Finally.

But before I went back in—

“Tones!” Trish panted from down the sidewalk. She gripped my shoulder to steady herself, while holding two plastic bags of food in her free hand.

I stammered. “Trish! You must be exhausted.”

“At least the food’s still hot. Let’s chow down.”

💙💛💜

We ate our food in the lobby. It wasn’t safe to return to Suite 2000 with sulking Austin. Trish giggled everytime I took a bite of my tuna noodle.

“Geez, Trish,” I laughed. “Just tell me what it is!”

“Not yet…” she said. “I don’t want to scare you.”

“Trust me. Nothing scares me.”

The revolving doors boomed into a glass tornado.

“SARAH!” a guy yelled. “TOO MUCH!”

A twenty-something year old guy flew through, like he was pushed by a force field. He caught himself in a stumble, until another guy fell into him. Both had brown hair, and wore black graphic T-shirts and ripped jeans.

A woman their same age ran in after, and helped them up. She had tan skin and long, wavy coffee hair. Her black trench coat did little to cover up her shiny, zipper-riddled purple clothes. She wore fake fangs.

“I’m so sorry, guys!” she panicked. 

“You’re alright,” one guy said. He was slightly taller and more built than his friend, who was slender with gentle features.

Trish glanced at me, gesturing to the door. I shrugged.

“Benny!” the woman said. Sarah, maybe? “You said you had the spell ready! Those blogger weirdos were right behind us!”

“Ethan distracted me,” the man groaned. “You should understand!”

“Distracted how? He was just standing there.”

“Very distractingly. And bloggers are awesome .”

The shorter guy brushed off his clothes, and Sarah ruffled his hair.

“I’m sorry, baby,” she said. “I’m trying to keep it—”

She glanced over. Her eyes were a beautiful gold. She covered her nose.

“That…” she breathed. “It smells so sweet.”

I smiled, and held up my restaurant container. “Oh yeah! They’re pancakes! They taste great, too.”

Her eyes perked. “Yeah! Pancakes… are you wearing a bloody perfume, by any chance?”

Ethan massaged her shoulders from behind. He looked like he was still in shock from the door incident, with hyper eyes. “Why don’t we go find our room, huh, Sarah? You didn’t have a good sleep in a while…”

“Y-Yeah!” she stammered. “A good long nap.”

He gently guided her away, and they all shuffled to an elevator. Sarah’s golden eyes lingered on me as the doors closed.

I looked back at Trish. “Well, that was odd.”

She scoffed. “What was that! Tony! She’s a vampire!”

“And I’m her prey?” I snarked.

“Yes!”

My eyes went wide. Even then, I composed myself and set my container down on the coffee table between us. I took a deep breath.

“Vampires aren’t real,” I lowered my voice. “She’s probably just really in character, or just sensitive to certain smells.”

“A bloody perfume? I’ve heard more subtle dialogue in Blues Clues!”

“Maybe she’s British.”

She groaned…

…then laughed. Her wide grin was so contagious. We laughed so much that October started to feel like April. She wiped her eye and took a sip from her lemonade.

Chapter Text

An hour after eating breakfast, we helped carry some wooden tables into the lobby for decorating. Maybe pancakes and pasta weren’t the best thing to eat before a strenuous exercise. We set down the second table after pulling it out of a storage closet. Trish and I sat on the floor, panting.

“Phew,” I said. I literally said phew. “Ready for number three?”

“Yeah…” she breathed. “Geez, these tables are made of steel!”

We stood up and walked over to the closet. Trish rubbed her hands together, ready for torture. She pulled on one end of the table…

“Huh?” she exclaimed. “It’s lighter than the others.”

“Let me see…” I helped pull the entire table through the doors.

It was lighter than cardboard! Wow! I wanted to smirk at our newly discovered strength, but that was super unlikely. We just looked at each other and shrugged. Granted, with a sigh of relief. After an hour, we had set down the tables, and started setting out plastic jack-o-lanterns and orange tablecloths.

The last table we set up sat by the elevator, when Lily and Ally stepped out. They were still in their pajamas, eating plastic bowls of dry cereal. Could they have been frumpier? They both had drowsy eyes and tornado-stricken hair.

“Ladies,” I greeted.

They groaned.

“Austin?” Trish raised her eyebrow.

Ally nodded. “He’s been pacing around and quizzing me on Christopher Wilde songs. He’s still hung up on Fletcher working for him.”

“Even Ollipop couldn’t deal with him,” Lily said. “He yelled at Austin to stop talking, till Miles got involved and put us all in time out.”

“Why don't you all just talk to Fletcher?” Trish suggested. “Imagine how he feels.”

“That won’t fix anything,” Ally sighed. “Fletcher shouldn't get involved until Austin feels better.”

“Hmmm…”

Someone walked through the front doors. A woman in her early thirties, wearing a magenta trench coat and boots adorned in feathers. She had oak skin and long black hair worn in a big bun. She sipped on a coffee cup and constantly adjusted the satchel on her shoulder.

“Oh God,” she mumbled.

I walked over to her.

“Hi there, ma’am!” I reached out my hand. “Need help with the bag?”

“I’m fine, but thank you,” she said. “I’m here to meet Loretta Modern, so I’m hauling my laptop and sketchbook around.”

“I just talked to her at Smart Kitchen. You must be Raven Baxter.”

She had a huge grin. “That’s me. And you must be… Tony?”

“Woah. How’d you figure out my name?”

“I… I think I heard someone say there was a Tony in the building… yeah. And you look like a ‘Tony’.”

“Oh really . And you look like a great fashion designer.”

“Oh, you!”

She sat in a sofa nearby, and pulled out her laptop. It had stickers all over it. Plugged into the laptop was a black USB stick with the letters “SG” engraved in bright red on the surface. She typed something, then set it on the coffee table.

“I have to wait a minute before this warms up,” she said, rubbing her hands together. “Then, Loretta herself will be standing right in front of me.”

“No way,” I said. “That’s a Skygraph Hologram USB! Those are like thousands of dollars!”

“Huh, well, I got it for free.”

“So cool… you’d be good at organizing some of these decorations for Monstober. Since you have an eye for color and all.”

“I’m planning on it later, actually.”

“Great! Well, I’ll be over here if you wanna talk.”

She smiled. We waved to each other before I walked across the lobby to one of the tables.

“Hi, Tony with a Y!”

Andi poked her head from behind a jack-o-lantern and waved.

“Hey!” I said. “We just got done putting up all the pumpkins.”

“And no encounters with a certain blonde singer?”

“I mean, technically, Loretta is being set up over there, but no signs of you-know-who.”

“Great!” She looked at the floor. “All clear!”

Fletcher emerged from underneath the table. I noticed all the colorful rubber bands on his wrist, adorned with beads and charms.

“Like them?” He raised his arm. “I made it myself. Had nothing else to do.”

“You finished the artwork for Wilde?” I asked.

“Yeah. I showed him everything and he really likes it. I still can’t believe two singers wanted me to make art for them…”

He looked over at the elevator, then back at me with panicked eyes.

“Ally is down here?” he whispered, leaning into the table. “What if Austin wants to see her?”

“He can just call her,” Andi said. “Unless he wants to see her really badly.”

“Oh yeah.”

Fletcher took a deep breath. “I’m fine. I don’t even know why I’m so worried. I’ll just help with… lighting jack-o-lanterns? What are we doing, anyway?”

“Nothing much right now,” I said. “Everyone else will show up later to help. So I’m just hanging around.”

My phone vibrated in my pocket, but as I went to reach it—

“Ouch!”

A cut appeared on my thumb. I didn’t even touch my phone yet.

“Ooh,” Andi winced. “You okay? I have some bandaids.”

“Thanks,” I said, strained. “I’m gonna wash it out. I’ll be back in a sec.”

I had no idea where the restroom was on the first floor, but I found it eventually. As I ran my hands under the warm water, I couldn’t help but wonder where I got the cut. I wasn’t shocked or anything—I would’ve used my own bandaids if Andi hadn’t offered me one—but it came out of nowhere.

I wrapped the bright blue bandage around my finger and left.

I was hit with a surprise when I walked back in the lobby.

Loretta stood in front of Raven, in a sparkly, silver dress. Her arms were decorated in black wires, and her high ponytail revealed her mini CD earrings.

“Sorry if it’s a little basic,” Raven said. “I tried making it look techy, but I didn’t want to use the wrong things.”

“It’s perfect.” Loretta smiled, and spun around in her dress. “It doesn’t have to make sense. It just has to look like it does.”

Raven pressed something on the computer, and the dress fizzled away, leaving Loretta in a basic black T-shirt and white jeans. Even her hair fell back down her shoulders.

“I forget you’re a hologram, sometimes,” I said. “You look so real. Physically, speaking.”

“It’s scary, isn’t it?” she said.

“Beautifully.”

I pulled out my phone to see a missed call from Jessie. Great. And I just had to miss it. I called back, but it immediately hung up. Of course.

“Something is interfering with the radio waves around the Tipton,” Loretta explained. “It’s been happening all week. People were posting about it on So Weird.”

“And the ghost,” Raven said.

Loretta cocked her head. “Ghost?”

“You know… the one I saw. Yesterday. ”

She nodded and slowly smiled. “Oh, I remember.”

Raven chuckled nervously and nudged my hand. “Wow, you really blend in. Forgot you were there. You better get to decorating the tables.”

“Tell me about it,” I put my phone away. “It’ll take ages. I’ll see you later.”

Weird.

💙💛💜

Fletcher hid under the table, obscuring his face with a fake pumpkin.

I sighed. “Fletcher—”

He glared at me.

“ Pumpkin Quimby. It’s not all bad. He probably doesn’t even know you’re here.”

“But the cell service is out again. Now, he has to come down here to talk to Ally.”

“You're right… or maybe not. Who said he’s going to talk to Ally? ”

Chapter Text

I knocked on the door of Suite 2000, till I remembered the whiteboard inviting anyone in.

Austin laid on his bed, watching the TV on such a low volume that it might as well be muted. He seemed entranced by all the dancers on Shake It Up, Chicago , a dancing show. It was never my cup of tea, but Emma and Jessie watched it a lot online. 

I hoped Austin felt better. It was early in the morning when he found out about Fletcher's "betrayal".

He looked over at me.  "You know they just came to Miami."

I flinched at his sudden question. "Oh, really? What's it called?"

    "Shake It Up, Miami."

    "Huh."

    "Have you heard of Moon's Mattress Kingdom? They use their mattresses here."

    "Cool. No wonder I slept so well."

He turned the volume down all the way.

    "I just wanted to see if you were okay," I said.

    "I'm fine, I guess. Just hungry." He rubbed his stomach. "I was gonna go downstairs—"

    "Downstairs?"

He cracked a smile. "To leave. I'm going out with Ally, tonight. And Dez. And Trish. We made it a friend thing."

    "Are you taking the elevator?"

He slowly nodded. "Yes."

    "Well don't. You haven't heard? Everything here is cursed!"

His eyes brightened as he sat up. "No way. That's awesome! And just in time for Monstober!"

    "No it's not awesome! "

    "How is that not the coolest thing ever?"

Why? Why did I make up a fake curse just to keep Austin upstairs? I didn't have any ideas for what the curse would be; not something that couldn't easily be disproven. Then I remembered something Raven said...

    "There’s a ghost haunting the Tipton. They break elevators. The lights flicker. And a thunderstorm!”

Austin leaned forward. "A ghost. Are you sure you're trying to scare me?"

    "I'm trying to tell you the facts, and—can you turn that down?"

The TV volume creeped up.

Austin patted around the bed for the remote, but it seemed to have disappeared. The dancers on screen sped up, slowed way down, and reversed.

The screen went black, and the image of a woman appeared.

Loretta, wearing a white leather jacket over a black shirt.

Her eyes widened in surprise, and reached for the screen. Her hand phased through the display, and into the real world, though warped and fuzzy.

    "Loretta Modern!" Austin exclaimed. "You're in my TV! This is the best curse ever!"

    "How did I get here?" she muttered to herself.

    "Probably a glitch."

    "I usually get to choose where I go. But I think I like it."

    "How'd you get in there, anyway?" I asked. "You were a hologram just a while ago."

    "Hmm. I don't know. I remember Raven plugging in her laptop before she put me back in the USB. Something must've sent me through to the power grid."

I noticed the light behind the curtains darken.

    "Is it gonna rain later?" I asked.

    "Yeah. We're getting a big storm," she said.

    "What if the power goes out and you're transported somewhere else? Can't you just step out of the TV? You put your hand through."

    "I never had problems with storms, but it could make it worse. It's something else messing with everything. You should get the USB stick that Raven has. I should be fine once I'm back in there. I'm really tired."

    "You get tired?" Austin asked.

    "It's a different kind of tired. It's not physical."

    "Woah... how does that work?"

    "Thinking 24/7 with no rest isn't exactly fun. I need to give my mind a break. It's like how you turn off a computer before it overheats and crashes. And if you don't, it'll turn itself off, eventually."

Austin's gaze drifted to the ground. The curiosity left his eyes.

    "I'll get the USB for you," I said. "It'll be quick."

Loretta didn't seem to notice me. She kept to Austin.

Chapter Text

Great! Now that Austin was distracted, I felt a weight lifted from my shoulders. But the strange glitch on the TV kinda freaked me out. What if Loretta glitched into my phone at night? What if the curse I mentioned was… I’m kidding. I was totally calm—for the most part.

I tapped my foot on the elevator cabin floor before fully stepping inside. You never know. I stood an inch away from the door, in case an invisible Alex was standing behind me.

I shivered, and sped out of the elevator once it reached the lobby.

First thing I noticed was Raven’s absence. Maybe she got a room, or left because of the sudden end to her meeting. But the usual vibrant chatter in the Tipton was muted and concerned.

Though I couldn’t dwell on that now. I had great news to deliver.

I hurried over to the table where Fletcher and Andi occupied.

“Guess what?” I tried to smile through my utter discomfort. “Austin is occupied with Loretta.”

But my fake smile was made less genuine when I saw Fletcher’s confused face.

“What’s wrong?” I asked, leaning on the table.

Andi chimed in. “Raven. She just left. Loretta randomly disappeared, then Raven had a migraine and rushed out of the hotel.”

“Did anyone help her?”

“She waved everyone away and just bolted out of here.”

“Well, Loretta glitched into Austin’s TV a minute ago. I guess the power is going all wonky because of the storm.”

Fletcher groaned. “The hotel is cursed and there’s a storm? What’s next?”

“It’s not cursed.” I said. “It’s almost Halloween. Everyone’s getting the creeps.”

Just as I said that, I remembered the weird things I saw just earlier today: the two men thrown through the doors, the extremely light tables, and who could forget—the invisible elevator.

Even though I didn’t believe in the curse, I felt my mouth curl up at the thought of playing along. Maybe there was something going on—it doesn’t hurt to accept it and move on.

Thunder rumbled outside. I looked over at one of the entrances to see how dismal things got. Rain pummeled the pavement.

The gossip started to die, and several pedestrians escaped the gloomy weather, closing their wet umbrellas as they entered the lobby. But I noticed someone in particular in the midst of the crowd.

She wiped the lens of her digital camera with her soaked sleeve.

It was Teddy! She must’ve come for the autograph I promised. I waited for the crowd to subside before walking over.

She smiled and lowered her camera.

“It’s you!” she said, sounding relieved. “Tony, right?”

“Yeah. Nice to see you again,” I greeted, and reached into my jacket pocket. “I got the autograph you wanted.”

Her face lit up as I handed it to her.

“Oh my God, thank you!” she glowed. “I wish I had something for you.”

“Don’t worry about it. It’s the least I can do.”

The hotel seemed to brighten again.

“I gotta go… see you around.” She waved. “Thank you!”

“No problem. See you at Monstober!”

💙💛💜

The day wavered on with me ignoring all of the weird happenings at the hotel thus far.

In the lounge, more tables were set up with an excess of pumpkins around the room. Minute after minute, people of all ages readied their tools to carve jack-o-lanterns.

I took a few pictures of the now very orange room, and sent them to Jessie.

Two men stood across my table, both shoving a carving knife into the pumpkin’s top. After a quick glance at their faces and clothes, I realized it was the same guys who were thrown through the revolving doors earlier. You wouldn’t think it from how they were acting.

The taller of them looked up at me.

“Hey, it’s you again!” he said, pointing his giant knife at me.

I flinched. “Yep. It’s me. I’m Tony.”

“Benny. And this is Ethan. He’s shy.”

The other guy nudged him. “I’m not shy. I’m just worried.”

Benny nervously laughed. “Ethan, we said we weren’t going to bring it up.”

“He knows something.”

“ I know something?” I asked.

Their stares were just as scary as their lax knife handling. Ethan coddled the beheaded pumpkin, as if to calm his nerves, and leaned into the table. He waved his hand for me to come closer.

“Have you noticed anything… strange?” he asked. “Anything curse-related?”

Not this again. “Curses?”

“We’ve heard about a ghost lurking around. I saw one. Well, I didn’t see it, but I had a—”

Benny elbowed him. “A prediction.”

“Right. Prediction. We both predicted that a ghost would appear in the Tipton tonight.”

“Really? No, I haven't seen anything.”

They slowly looked at each other, cringing. Did I do something wrong?

“Forget everything we said,” Ethan laughed. “Just trying to get into the Halloween spirit. Not very scary, huh?”

“Well…” I rubbed my chin. “I'm not a writer, but I have a suggestion. A ghost isn't scary on its own—it needs intent. Like, what if it's trying to possess someone?”

“You're right!” Benny said. “We'll need to tweak our story.”