Chapter Text
Red light stung the features of the open ballroom, white walls stained with crimson and golden filigrees wrought with mahogany brown. The crystal lights of the chandelier, once ivory and soft now bathed everything in bloodstained shadows.
Dim now, which is how the vampires preferred it. Slinking around in darkness, in robes of black and purple. Necklaces with glittering jewels around their necks, silver and gold watches, pearly teeth upon saccharine smiles.
Even a cursory look around the room revealed its patrons to be wealthy, sophisticated. Nary a single man or woman here looked out of place, reeking of old and new money. Of distinct sanguine perfume and often, pure decadence. Chatter floated above the quiet air as classical music pulsed dully from the gramophone in the side of the room.
Indistinct words were exchanged, sometimes in different languages and ancient tongues. Business agreements, trade deals, familiar gossip.
There were things unspoken too.
Like rules. The rules in which all among the society obey, in which they know. Etiquettes and mannerisms of those cut finer on the cloth. Things that, when a faulty crack appears, when someone new enters the herd, are detected easily.
And tonight, Mina is that erroneous thing.
She stands, her features much too young, her outfit much too modern. Her eyes betray too much of the anxiety that she’s been holding down, that’s been building little by little as the night goes on.
She’s new here, recently turned, learning the ropes, just as eager to climb the ranks as any of those in her seniors have been trying to do for decades.
And she knows that they can tell.
She knows, too, that they’ll stray far away from her. At least, if they’re smart.
Which they are.
She’s spent most of the night being ignored, being crowded out of conversations. For the older vampires to sneer and for their expressions to twist with disdain the moment she raises her voice to speak up. She’s been straight up ignored, straight up told that she can’t interact with people.
It’s making her stomach twist with a feeling she’s not very well acquainted with.
Inferiority.
The dreaded, slow dawning realization that she’s at the bottom of the pecking order. And if she wants even an ounce of respect or acknowledgement, she’s going to have to play by their rules. Rules of which those before her already know how to wield, how to manipulate, and have spent all of their immortal lives learning the game.
Here, they don’t care about what her family name is. She’s some little nobody who was privileged enough to be turned willingly.
Her fashion line means nothing to them, her brand a complete stranger in their realm. Every ounce of notoriety and clout she often used when she was still human was useless, meaningless junk to their ears.
She threatens to drop her champagne glass entirely when her shoulder is bumped the third time that night. Not because it’s particularly crowded at the event or anything, but deliberately by a group of elder vampires who scoff at her scrambling attempts to stand back up straight.
She feels a tightness forming in her chest, clear frustration rippling throughout her system.
How dare they? She thinks distantly. The audacity to just ignore her when she could well and truly ruin their reputations if they were simply just on a different playing field. If they had any regard for the human realm.
But they don’t, and Mina remains a misplaced item. Forgotten in place, and not belonging.
The lilting tremor of laughter permeates the air from some other corner in the reception hall. Wherein some other timeline she would’ve taken part in such obnoxious tittering, she now finds the sound unbearable. Especially when she catches one of the vampires among the chortling group gesture very obviously in her direction.
Mina sets down her champagne glass over by the table filled with entrees and storms out.
She’s embarrassed. Humiliated, even. By her obvious, desperate attempts to meld in with the crowd, to gain insight on how to play her role within this supernatural masquerade. Each step is a calculated dance, and she cannot stumble even once.
She knows she’s made herself known, but not in the way she wants.
The reception hall doors are heavy, and creak loudly when she exits. But she hardly cares, doesn’t want to stay around to be laughed at any longer. She needs some fresh air, or maybe a place to scream and cry.
The clack of her heels are dulled by the carpeted floors of The Baroness Hotel, where their high society event is being held. Although, it’s well past operating hours, into the dead of the night where vampires are most active.
The lights are dim even here, hallway strobes flickering on in response to her movement. She passes through the lobby, pauses to stare. Deep velvet lines the walls, along with pillars of polished granite and stone, painted with gold. The place is far bigger on the inside than it appears on the outside.
She’ll admit, it’s her first time visiting the place. Though she knows it has somewhat of a reputation. Mostly for being haunted.
No wonder the vampires liked this place so much.
There’s no one at the reception desk. Not that she expected there to be. So instead she takes the tedious time to walk up the stairs and to the rooftop.
When she elbows through the doorway, she finds it locked. Grumbling and fussing with the doorknob for another few minutes yields little results, and Mina finds her frustration mounting to a boiling point.
“Fuck this stupid gala,” she hisses. “And fuck those stupid, stupid, high society vampires. What do they know that I don’t? What have they got that I don’t?”
She gives the door an accusatory shove, like it’s somehow to blame for all of her problems right now. When it still doesn’t budge, she huffs, her hands clenching into fists.
Whatever. She thinks. I don’t need this right now. I should just go home. Finish that design plan that’s been sitting on the drafting desk for three weeks.
But when she turns around to descend back down the stairs, she hears the sound of something unlocking, followed by an eerie creak. And when she looks back, the exit to the rooftop is opened, its hinges swinging idly as if disturbed by a small breeze.
Mina’s brows pinch together immediately.
She approaches the door, then halts. And then places a hand on the doorknob. It’s still cold, and the door itself stills from her interference. When she sticks her neck out to peer on the other side, she finds no one there.
Strange. Perhaps the rumors about this place being haunted held some merit.
Regardless, she finds herself stepping out into the threshold, the nighttime air embracing her. She breathes it in, exhales back out, and allows it to settle deep in her bones, to relax some of the knots that have been bothering her throughout the entire gala.
It’s not a permanent fix, but it is something.
She walks forwards a little more, the wind rustling through her hair. If she had any plans of returning to the party, she might’ve been mad at that, but instead she finds herself transfixed by the view below of the city.
New York. In all its glory. Concrete jungles and shining skylines. Less polluted by the fumes of daytime traffic, quiet cars on the road. Few people mill about in this hour, but truly it was about the beating heart of the city itself. The very one that Mina had dreamed about ruling ever since she was a little kid.
She rests her elbows against the concrete railings, her eyes drifting over the cityscape, drinking it all in silence. It’s a welcome peace and respite from the madness happening below, one that she was already trying to forget ever happened.
“Pardon me,”
Mina screams.
She scrambles, whipping around in a frenzy at the sudden, unknown voice behind her and finds herself face to face with…
With a lobby boy?
He’s tall. At least, much taller than she is. A wry smile on his face, freckles across his cheeks, his ginger hair poking out from the ugliest hat she’s ever seen. He’s dolled and dressed in a striking crimson uniform, golden buttons and embellishments following his attire all the way down and patched at his shoulders. Sitting in the middle of his chest- just above his sternum is a peculiar keyhole shaped crest. One arm is tucked behind his back, his posture servile.
But his eyes are this strange, haunting blue that almost seem like they’re glowing in the dark.
She immediately scowls.
Before she can even get a word edgewise, the bellhop raises his hands, palms facing forwards in a gesture of surrender.
“Forgive me, Miss Ha, I didn’t mean to startle you,” he says slowly, almost melodically.
Mina blinks.
“What??” She sputters. “What the fu- Who the hell even are you???”
He seems to blink back at her in the same owlish manner.
“Ah, I suppose I didn’t properly introduce myself.” He hums, then stands up straighter, and takes a bow directly in front of her. “Aside from its lodgings, The Baroness Hotel offers a wide variety of hospitality venues for both recreation and business. And among such hospitalities, are those ready to heed your every beck and call. I happen to be such personnel.”
Mina stares at him, now equal parts confused and angry.
He raises his gaze to meet hers, his blue eyes twinkling. “I am the Doorman, at your service.”
“So you’re just the help?” She asks.
She sees his eyes widen slightly at the term, the corners of his perfect practiced smile twitching.
“... I’d like to think I’m a little more than just that, but yes,” he replies. “I am the help.”
“Why the hell are you up here, then?” Mina frowns.
“I couldn’t help but notice you’d escaped the party, Miss Ha,” the Doorman hums. “I must know, does something ail you so? Perhaps the temperature was too stifling? The music too loud? Were the accommodations of The Baroness not up to your expectations?”
Mina can only stare slack jawed at the questions being flung in her face by this man she’s never seen before.
“Have you- Wait, have you been watching me??” She accuses.
“I make an effort to monitor every guest that stays with us,” he replies swiftly. “The more I can observe them, the more I am able to be of help, as you say.”
He seems to shake his head at her. “And you, Miss Ha, seem to be very uncomfortable.”
“Yeah, well, you’re making it worse,” she growls back. “I don’t appreciate being stalked, especially by some random employee. I could have you fired, you know.”
“Then perhaps there is something else you would appreciate?” He tilts his head at her slowly retreating form. “A bite to eat, maybe? You have been rather busy all night talking to your superiors. Or maybe a nice cup of water? You left your champagne glass on the table, I can only imagine you’re terribly parched by now.”
“Go away!” Mina hisses, deliberately moving away from him to find another spot near the railings where she can resume what relative peace she had before this man so unceremoniously showed up.
“You look troubled, Miss Ha,” he continues. “Was it the party itself? The Baroness has seen many wealthy social gatherings within its walls, but I can imagine the tension permeating through this one was even more so. Did you get into a bad argument? Or perhaps… were the people not treating you well?”
Mina freezes at that, a slow flush crawling up her neck. White hot embarrassment pools in her gut again, a reminder of earlier tonight where she was bumbling around the dancefloor like some lost woodland creature.
She doesn’t see it, but the Doorman’s smile curves upwards just a pinch more.
“I understand,” he takes a step towards where she’s halted, her hands resting on the concrete sides of the rooftop. “Vampire society is… a foreign territory for me as well. I am still learning to adapt to our special guests’ needs.”
“I didn’t say anything,” she retorts.
“But would you like to?” The Doorman asks, almost gentle in his tone. “It can be frustrating dealing with things on your own. Especially for one that has no prior support within the systems you are trying to climb.”
She turns just enough to glare at him fiercely. “Hey, if I tell you to bring me a glass of wine will you just fuck off and leave me alone?”
“Well, I would have to bring the wine to you first, but then after that, yes, if that’s what you’d prefer.” He responds without missing a beat.
“Great. Go do that, bellboy.”
She watches as he takes yet another bow before her, turning around to disappear down the stairs of the emergency exit the same way she came in. His steps echo down the corridor as he goes, which makes her wonder seriously just how he’d managed to sneak up on her when she was upstairs all by herself.
Surely she would’ve heard him?
“What a creep,” she mutters to herself, idly running a hand through her hair.
“Well, that’s not very nice.”
Mina screams again, turning around and nearly slapping him with her arm.
The Doorman raises an eyebrow at her clear distress, bemused smile upon his lips. He’s back, somehow, and she’s sure this time that not even a minute had passed since he’d left. He’s holding a metal serving tray, meticulously balanced upon one palm whilst his other arm remains tucked behind his back, the same straight, proper posture that he had before.
There is but a single glass of fragrant red wine that he’s holding. The exact thing she asked for.
“My God!” She hisses, putting a hand over her chest. “Stop scaring me like that, you freak!”
“My apologies,” He didn’t sound very apologetic at all. “But it seemed like you ordered this in quite a rush.”
“Yeah, a rush to get rid of you,” she grumbles back in retort.
Mina watches as he merely hums, bending slightly to offer her the glass of wine in the middle of the tray. She hesitates, although she doesn’t know why she does, but ultimately takes it from his grasp.
Her eyes follow him with increasing suspicion as he leans back, carefully holding the tray underneath his arm now that it has served its purpose. Her face pinches back into a glare.
“You can go now.”
He tilts his head slightly. “But how will I know if the wine is to your tastes? I implore you to have a sample before I leave.”
Mina throws up her arms.
“Oh my fucking– Fine.” She brings the glass to her lips, taking a tentative sip.
It’s… good.
Kind of frustratingly good. Aromatic and heady and rich, aged to perfection. And she should be able to tell, she’d spent an entire summer once with her parents at the best sommeliers and vineyards.
The Doorman seems to have noticed the way her little scrunch of disdain evens out slightly, because he has the audacity to start flapping his gums again.
“How is it?” He asks.
“Fine.” Mina replies, probably a little too quickly. “It’s whatever. It’s passable.”
She takes another sip regardless.
His already placid smile stretches wider and he takes a bow. “I am so glad to hear that, Miss Ha.”
She glares at him from the corner of her eye, slowly swirling her cup in her hands.
“Why are you still here?” She asks, though this time some of the bite in her tone has melted into thinly veiled curiosity.
“I have to make sure every guest that stays at the Baroness is well taken care of, of course,” The Doorman replies.
Mina scowls. “Yeah, but like, there’s a whole party happening downstairs. That’s a lot of other guests to attend to.”
And ones that are more important than me, she thinks bitterly, but doesn’t say it.
“The other employees at The Baroness can handle them,” the Doorman says. “You are my top priority.”
Mina pauses for a moment, then narrows her eyes at him.
“... Why?” She asks, suspicion and hostility now creeping back into her tone.
The Doorman gestures downstairs. “The other guests are enjoying the festivities, simply put. I can be satisfied knowing that they are satisfied. But you, Miss Ha, are up here all by yourself, alone and sulking like a petulant child.”
Mina’s face flushes. “Hey–!”
“And that does not leave a good feeling in my chest.” The Doorman continues nonetheless. “I would like for you to enjoy your time at The Baroness, especially considering this is your first visit. I would be saddened to know that she couldn’t have made a good first impression on you.”
She stares at him, just staring at his face, like she’s searching for any instance of a lie. But his blue eyes are boring into hers, and the strange intensity of his neutral smile makes her look away.
“Whatever,” she huffs. “This party sucks, anyway.”
“Was there a reason you left?” The Doorman asks.
Mina drums her fingers against the concrete railing in contemplation of an answer that wasn’t just ‘they were mean to me’.
“The atmosphere wasn’t my cup of tea,” she replies, taking another sip of the wine. “Too many… old school vampires who wanted to talk about boring old politics and harpsichord music.”
She sees the Doorman nod his head in agreement. “Hmm, indeed, the vampire nation hasn’t changed much about itself ever since the days of the elders. Perhaps their backwards ways are outdated for our changing times.”
“That’s what I keep saying!” Mina exclaims. “They’re all dim-witted bastards stuck up their own asses, content on floundering about in the old world. They lack vision, they lack wit! They lack a–”
She halts mid sentence, seemingly caught onto her own sudden rambling unprompted. Mina clears her throat, hunching her shoulders slightly as she looks back out over the city.
“Whatever, I don’t care about what a bunch of decrepit old losers have to say about me, anyway.”
“Indeed,” the Doorman responds. “They underestimate you.”
“Yeah,” Mina grumbles.
“They don’t understand that the age of their reign is long over, and that it’s time for someone newer, someone younger to step up as Viscount.”
“Yeah!” Mina hisses. “That’s exactly it.”
“But they overlook you,” he continues. “They push you to the side, they see you as no more than some spoiled brat who had the privilege to turn immortal. They think you bought your fame and success on mommy and daddy’s money.”
Mina’s brows suddenly furrow together again. “Hey, whose side are you on?”
“Merely an observation, Miss Ha,” the Doorman responds, dipping his head politely. “I did not mean to offend.”
“Well, your observation is correct, and they’re all wrong about me,” she snaps back. “But I’ll make them see. They’ll rue the day they ignored me.”
“Not at your current rate,” the Doorman interjects. “Why, you’re only starting to learn the game that others have had centuries to perfect.”
She turns around fully to glare at him again. “What’s your fucking problem?!”
The Doorman raises his hands again in mock surrender. “I’m only trying to say, Miss Ha, that there might be methods in which you can get what you desire. Shortcuts, one may say, hidden within the heart of New York itself.”
“Oh yeah? Well, I wouldn’t suppose you know anything about that?” She huffs, resting her cheek on her knuckles.
For a moment she watches his smile twist into something unnatural, a glimmer in his eye that was anything but human. But then just as it was there, it was gone again, like she’d simply imagined it.
“No, I suppose I wouldn’t. After all, I am just the help,” he murmurs back.
Mina squints slightly, watching his features. The wineglass in her hands feels lighter.
“You know something,” she decides. “I’m not stupid.”
“No, you are not, Miss Ha,” he sing-songs.
“Don’t patronize me.” She jabs a finger in his direction. “You know something, don’t you?”
“I’m just the humble Doorman,” he responds. “I have various knowledge in various different categories. I only do what my job demands, and speaking of…”
He points to the floors below, where the members of the vampire society gala were now filing out in small troves, talking with one another before seemingly blending into the shadows, disappearing under the veil of night. It seemed at a glance that the party had just concluded, and Mina blinked owlishly at the sight before staring up at the moon that had since crossed the sky.
How long had she been up here just talking to him?
“I’m afraid my duties are calling.” His voice pulls her away from the rooftop edge, seeing him now perched at the exit. “I must clean up the event so that the reception hall is ready for use by our scheduled guests.”
“Huh?” Mina stutters.
“Shall I see you out, Miss Ha?” He asks, holding the door open.
She pauses, looking back down at her wineglass, which was now emptied. Her mind stirred, somehow puzzled by the series of events that just happened, despite it being so fresh in her memory.
“You…” she can’t find the right words to reply, her throat suddenly dry. “You can’t just leave! We were in the middle of a conversation.”
“While I would love to continue our lovely little chat, I’m afraid I cannot shirk on my duties at The Baroness,” he replies.
He bows slightly. “However… If you would like to come back for a proper stay, then I would be more than happy to welcome you to your room.”
“Jerk,” Mina mutters, pushing off to the side and walking towards him. “Fine. I can’t believe you spent this entire time just trying to shill me your dumb hotel.”
He laughs. And it’s strange, because it almost sounds deeper than his usual voice. It makes something shivery crawl up her spine, and not in a good way. Mina grimaces when she passes by him, his lanky arm held up on the dark green exit door to prevent it from closing in on her.
“I look forward to seeing you again, Miss Ha,” he says from behind her as her heels clack on the stairs down.
“I can’t say the feeling’s mutual, Doorman,” she seethes, making sure to enunciate every vowel in his title.
The more she descends the more she’s aware of the echo in the corridor. Her footsteps alone, lights flickering on when she gets near. But there’s no movement behind her, strangely enough, even though she’s sure that he’d followed her down.
And yet, when she looks back, he’s already vanished.
If it weren’t for the wineglass still in her hand, the taste of it still on her breath, she’d have thought she’d gone crazy and seen a ghost.
“What a freak,” she grumbles, then whips her head around like he’d appear just at the sound of an insult falling from her lips. It seems he’d gone for good this time, probably back down in the reception hall like he said he would be.
She passes by the room, its grand mahogany double doors already closed. When she tries to push it open, it doesn’t budge. Mina presses her ear against the wood, like she’s trying to listen for movement inside, but hears absolutely nothing. The tranquil silence in the Hotel is almost eerie.
There are no other staff to wish her goodbye on the way out. She simply just leaves the same way she’d come in, through the rotating glass in the front lobby.
The neon green light of the Baroness winks at her as she looks up at it, ivy crawling on its walls. The greying bricks are a dismal sight, giving the look of a graveyard more than a welcoming Hotel. She almost didn’t want to come back.
Mina turns around, muttering underneath her breath as she hugs her elbows. “If I find out that stupid bellhop was an apparition of some ginger that died twenty years ago, I’m going to have this ugly hotel shut down.”
ꄗ
It’s another late night. It always happens to be.
Her usual diurnal schedule has shifted ever since she’d been turned. Now she woke up at dusk and hurried to bed at dawn. The bite paling her features, her stark red lipstick now more distinctive than ever.
She’s hunched over her workbench, trying to wrestle a fabric that just won’t obey. It’s been hours now, and nothing’s helped this specific design. No matter what she tries, it won’t obey the exact vision she has in her mind.
Frustrated, she rumples through the pages and pages of sketches sat at her desk, as if cluttering them around might help her see a new angle, might miraculously change the state of her artblock. But alas, nothing has shifted, and she’s still missing three new pieces for her Autumn collection.
She drums her fingers against the table, pinching the bridge of her nose. There’s a deadline for this and she’s keenly aware that if she lets it sneak up on her, her reputation is going to take yet another plunge. She’s scrabbling, fighting with the other fish at the bottom of the barrel, she simply cannot afford yet another mistake.
The yellowed light of the lamp hanging over her station grants an extra layer of dreariness, like she’s some harrowed wife waiting by candlelight for her husband to return from the war.
She gets up from her chair, walking over to her window to pull apart the curtains and let the cool moonlight in.
A sigh leaves her mouth, carried out into the distant skyline. She’s found herself… brooding, not sulking, recently. Staring out into nothing, pondering her position both in life and within the vampire nation.
“If I could just somehow make something spectacular, they’ll have no choice but to take notice of me,” she mumbles underneath her breath.
Mina’s eyes scan over the horizon, yet inexplicably she finds that her gaze is drawn towards a familiar building in the far west. The spectral green of its neon letters almost seems to beckon her towards it, the bright calling card of The Baroness.
She stands a little straighter, brows furrowing as she squints off into the distance.
Has that… always been there? And always been so close? Like someone had picked it up and placed it in front of her deliberately.
She swears in all her years spent wondering and dreaming by her studio window, she’s never seen it there before.
That night flashes back into her mind, the memory a painful one. It makes her cringe, for lack of a better word, and she makes a face before she pushes off from the windowsill and turns to press her back against the wallpaper, folding her arms atop one another.
The party was a bust. She’s reminded of every face and every word that she had said. Or, at least, tried to say to them before she was promptly ignored. Spite burned at the back of her throat again, mixed with hot shame, and she clenched her fingers against her sleeve so hard she almost tears at the cloth.
Then, among her self pity, lilting words drift through her mind.
“There might be methods in which you can get what you desire.”
Her eyes snapped open. Uttered by that infuriating bellboy, a sentence that hinted he knew exactly what she was after, and more tantalizingly, a way to see it into reality. A ‘shortcut’, he had said, whatever that meant.
Mina glances at the pamphlets and files strewn all over the desk. She has maybe seventy-two hours. Three days to make something happen.
Some nagging part of her, probably her pride, was tugging at the hem of her dress, arguing with her lesser conscience. She can still make this work, she can still bring the best to the table without having to cut corners. She can still earn her spot rightfully through blood, sweat, and tears– and those doubters who said she’s only here now because of mommy and daddy’s money will weep like little babies.
She chews the inside of her cheek, side-eying the abandoned silks draped haphazardly over the mannequin.
Twenty minutes later, she finds herself huddled in a coat with a black fur collar, hailing a cab. The driver says something about ‘burning the midnight oil’, but she shuts him up swiftly and directs him back onto the empty roads.
She didn’t bring any bags, any luggages, just her purse with the little bat charm on it. It’s not like she intends to stay longer than one night, anyway.
It’ll be a short visit. She’s just here to interrogate him and maybe shake his shoulders a bit, ask him what he knows.
For some reason she finds herself anxious, tapping her fingers against her thigh as the taxi cab cruises past the winding buildings. Their spiraling heights seem to narrow the roads more and more, and Mina wonders too if this area had always been here just barely outside her view. Because as the car nears The Baroness, she wonders why she’s never seen those topiaries and owl statues on her city commutes.
She pushes the door shut, handing the driver a wad of cash and already leaving before he can count it in front of her.
The Baroness’ looming shadow towers over her, blocking out the moonlight above. She’d hardly gotten a chance to get a good look at it from an arrival perspective, but it was no wonder this place seemed like such a hot spot for the vampiric society.
It radiated doom and gloom. One glance and a person could immediately gauge it was definitely plagued by some sort of ghostly activity. And since her transformation, Mina had quickly learned that there was a bigger den for ghouls and goblins within the underground of New York than she previously imagined.
She stares at the rotating glass doors. No light shone on the other side. Granted, it was certainly not prime operational hours, but it didn’t appear to be particularly welcoming either.
They did not care to market towards the general public, it seemed.
Stepping into the lobby felt like the same from a week ago. Despite the entrance being accessible, there was nary a soul to be found in the grand lobby. Only a few wall sconces remained lit, and the glass chandelier that hung overhead remained turned off.
There’s no one at the reception, as per usual. And Mina has to scoff and roll her eyes.
“For a guy who wanted me to throw money here so bad, you’d think they’d employ someone to man the front desk.”
She walks up to the rounded counter, staring at the great cabinet behind it that housed all of the hotel keys, one by one hanging on their racks upon finely varnished shelves. Some of them, she did note, were indeed missing. Seeming to suggest this place wasn’t quite as out of business as it appeared on the outside.
Mina looks around, before reaching over on the desk and ringing the call bell.
The following chime it gives off is resounding. Weirdly symphonic in a way, like it was ringing from throughout the walls and bones of the great hotel. She lets it die out, her hands clasped politely over the other as she waits for a response.
She counts the seconds. A minute passes.
Mina frowns, then reaches over to ring the bell again, this time twice with more urgency.
When she receives no reply the second time, she immediately turns around, embarrassment coloring her cheeks. This was a complete waste of time, she should’ve just stayed at home and finished her projects instead of tossing five dollars into the wind for the taxi ride. Now she was going to have to figure out how to get the attention of a cab all the way out in bumfuck nowhere and–
“Well isn’t this a pleasant surprise.”
Mina turns around immediately, eyes widened. There, standing behind the reception, is the man of the hour. His pupils ever unsettling, his smile ever tranquil.
“Miss Ha, it’s been a while, hasn’t it?” The Doorman asks. “And here I was starting to think you’d forgotten.”
“I rang you three times and you didn’t answer me!” she accuses immediately, marching back up to him.
“You rang twice, actually,” he corrects, putting a gloved finger to his lips in a shushing motion. “But yes, forgive me, I was in the middle of attending to other guests at this hour.”
Mina snorts. “Other guests. Yeah, right. This place is shoddy and run down, I bet all your other guests are just hallucinations.”
She swears she sees his eye twitch before he closes them and smiles.
“Contrary to popular belief, Miss Ha, we do indeed get a lot of customers here, some of which would appreciate a little peace and quiet at this late hour. I’m afraid not everyone wants to hear a whiny little vampire complain about our interior design.”
“Hey!” She hisses.
“Although, I am sincerely happy to see you again, Miss Ha,” he muses, his tone a touch softer. “I have been thinking all this time about how best to show you all the wonderful accommodations that The Baroness has to offer.”
That little comment does make her pause slightly, whatever string of insults she had lined up dying on her tongue.
“You have?” she mumbles.
“Oh, yes indeed.” The Doorman nods. “I simply could not wait for your arrival.”
Another blush creeps its way to her face again. The same kind that occurs when she’s caught red handed. She finds herself, for a second, disturbed at how such a small expression makes her chest clench.
It’s been a long time since anyone has ever said that to her, nevertheless given her special treatment. She’s been judged and shunned and belittled for the entirety of her time within the vampiric society. And she’s uncertain if this time around, she’s simply pleased to see things return to form, or if she’s genuinely abashed at the attention she’s been given.
“Weirdo,” is all she manages to retort. “How much is it for one overnight stay?”
“Seven dollars,” The Doorman replies happily.
Mina scrunches her nose. That was on the expensive side for hotels, all things considered. And all that for a single night seemed like a bit much.
He seemed to have noticed her distinct shift in expression and hurried to placate her. “Do not worry, Miss Ha, I have personally ensured that your room is on our executive floor, the best of the best. And it comes with a complimentary breakfast in our dining hall.”
“Yeah, yeah.” She grumbles, taking the bills from her wallet before slamming them onto the table.
“Excellent.” He beams at her, turning around momentarily to stare at the entire wall of hotel keys, pointing a finger at each one. She watches as he goes row by row, like he’s seemingly searching for something.
“Ah, here we are.” he exclaims upon stopping at one of them. Perfectly identical to the others, he takes the key off from its rack. The plaque attached to the ring has no number, only a strange, rounded symbol, the same ones as the insignia on his cap.
He turns to look at her, smiling all the same. She finds she can’t quite meet his gaze, for whatever reason.
“Well then, shall we?” he asks. “Let me show you to your quarters.”
Without waiting for an answer, he turns heel and begins to ascend the curving stairs. Mina follows behind, though slightly reluctant.
The yellow sconces bask everything in a warm glow. She’s reminded of her father’s fireplace, the same area he’d help her study for her mathematics when she was much, much younger. In fact, the wallpapers reminded her as well of her childhood home, some darkened maroon color.
She felt terribly nostalgic all of a sudden, and equally homesick.
“Right this way,” The Doorman says, stopping in front of an elevator. Its doors fold, opening up to her.
The light makes him glow like a halogen lamp, his gesture inviting as he motions to the rather small elevator floor.
She enters, and he follows suit, pressing the button inside the lift. It lurches to life after a slight stumble, and begins its ascent.
It’s quiet. Neither of them speak a word, as Mina watches the radial at the top of the door, seeing as it tilts slowly all the way to the number nine. Nine floors at The Baroness Hotel. She’s going to the very top.
She vaguely remembers she’s had questions for him, questions about what he meant by things in the heart of New York. Questions about what he knows about shortcuts, and how he’s somehow able to pinpoint her desires so directly.
But she can’t bring herself to open her mouth, like something’s quashing it down. In the end, Mina just swallows a lump in her throat.
The elevator finally jitters to a stop, the sliding screen unfurling again. The Doorman bows slightly, raising his arm to guide her out.
“After you, madam.”
She steps out into the corridors. There’s a draft coming from somewhere and she can’t pinpoint how. Thin doors line each side of the walls, though noticeably none of them seem to be occupied. She doesn’t know why or how she knows that, but she just does.
“Is there anyone up here?” Mina asks.
The Doorman smiles. “The executive floor is for our most… esteemed guests.”
“That’s me, somehow?” she scoffs.
He pauses in front of a door, the same as the others, putting a hand on the knob. The keyring jingles around his waist, and he removes it before inserting a glittering key into the slot.
The entrance creaks open, revealing a velvet suite. Wine red curtains, king sized mattress, a record player in the corner of the room, fitted with a large writing desk similar to the one she has at home. The yellow lights from incandescent bulbs color the entire place cozily. Plush, fur carpets are laid all across the wooden floor, a little gift basket of fruits and cookies sitting on the granite coffee table.
Mina’s left speechless again.
“I do hope you like it,” The Doorman says, placing a hand on her back, almost like he’s trying to usher her inside.
She does like it. But hell if she’d ever admit that to him.
“Whatever, I guess you losers have some taste after all,” she replies, shrugging his hand off and stepping inside. The boards underneath her feet hardly creak.
“Such high praise from Miss Mina Ha, I am almost beside myself with joy,” although his jovial tone remains as neutral as ever.
“Oh, shut up,” she shoots back, already walking over to the windows to examine them.
They’re elongated, large rectangle panes that give her an ample view of the city below, from a perspective she’s never seen. The curtains are soft underneath her grasp, and she tugs on them to close them. Her eyes drift around the room, drinking in the downright luxurious decorum.
There’s something… eerily familiar about the arrangement of the furniture.
“You know, I gotta say, I would have expected this kind of treatment from a crappy looking hotel like yours.” Mina hums.
“Two compliments in one day? My, you spoil me.”
Mina glares at the Doorman. “I’m serious. This entire room feels like it’s the same size as the lobby. It’s almost as big as my bedroom, which is saying something.”
“Well, The Baroness has a reputation for exceeding expectations,” The Doorman replies, a hand tucked behind his back. “But it does delight me to hear that you enjoy your private suite.”
“Did you do this?” She asks.
He tilts his head at her. “Hm? Do what?”
“Like, did you tell management or the designer or housekeeping or whatever to give me a big room?” She gestures vaguely all around her. “With the special amenities and everything.”
“Me? Hm… Let’s just say I told the right people and leave it at that.” He replies peculiarly, tapping his chin like he’s pondering a thought.
“I have no idea what that means but whatever,” Mina responds.
He bows from the doorway. “Is there anything else I can do for you before I depart for the night, Miss Ha?”
Mina pauses, wracking her brain. There was something she wanted to ask him, but she’s suddenly too distracted by the way that the writing desk in the room is the exact same expensive oak as the one she does all her drafting on. Or that there are complimentary pencils and printer paper inside the drawers, along with professional ink pens. What kind of a guest would need this, unless they knew it’d be her staying here?
“I… Yeah, actually.” she says slowly, raising her head.
He blinks at her owlishly, waiting for her request.
“About what you said last time we talked,” she continues. “About secrets in the heart of New York or something like that. You said there could be a shortcut to getting the things I wanted. And you’d be willing to continue the conversation if I spent a night here.”
She doesn’t miss it this time, for she’s sure she catches the shine in his eyes of something alien. The corner of his lip quirks up, and she swears she catches a glint of pearly white teeth, so white she thinks it might not even be teeth at all.
“Oh yes, I do remember,” he hums. “Though those were not my exact words.”
“I want to talk about that,” she demands.
“Oh, gladly. It will be a scintillating conversation, I’m sure. Unfortunately, I am being summoned elsewhere.”
As if on cue, she hears the chime of the call bell at the receptionist’s desk ring throughout the halls.
Mina immediately scowls. “Oh screw you! You’re just deliberately avoiding the subject now. There’s no fucking way you have guests at this hour.”
“Don’t be vulgar, Miss Ha,” he tuts. “I’m not trying to avoid anything, and you act like everything must be done in a rush. I will be back shortly, or perhaps in the morning to attend to you again, you need not worry.”
“I paid your stupid hotel fee! You owe me a proper talk without running away the moment it gets interesting!” She starts storming towards him by the doorway.
The Doorman’s smile suddenly drops.
“Miss Ha, you pay me to serve you,” he says, a sudden sternness in his voice that makes her stop in her tracks. “You pay me to make sure you get to your room safe, to give you your keys, to humor you and take your berating like a punching bag. Rest assured, you will have your conversation, and the answers you so desire. Just not right now.”
Mina’s throat suddenly feels… very dry.
Like a switch being flicked, his expression suddenly turns kindly and humble again, and he places a hand on either side of her arms before gently guiding her back into the room without much protest.
“In the meantime, please enjoy your time at the Baroness. And enjoy our complimentary refreshments,” he says, that lilting formal tone returning to his voice.
She doesn’t know what to say in response to that, and so she doesn’t. The door clicks shut, and she’s suddenly all alone.
There’s a hollow warmth to the room that feels foreign and familiar at the same time. Mina stands there for a while, like she’s momentarily forgotten how to breathe and be a functioning human.
She hovers over the coffee table, eventually leaning down to dissect the fruit basket. It’s the usual suspects, some apples and bananas and grapes. The cookies are macadamia nut and fudge. All things she’s allowed to have as a treat, but not in excess. Especially with her altered diet.
At the basket handle, she finds a little note, taped on with a ribbon.
Welcome to The Baroness Hotel. Please, stay as long as you’d like.