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yoongleboonglepie · 2 months ago

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Pechsträhne - Chapter 2

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A/N: Hey to the void! I will do my best to get at least 3-4 total chapters out in quick succession so there's some substance to get started. I'm also trying to break up the lore in chunks because there is a lot of it. As always, I'll be proof rereading it over and over again for any typos I missed for the next 24 hours, lol. Enjoy~ -Delyn

(Word Count approx. 10k)

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Y/n didn’t get much sleep that night. Her mothers words invading her mind every time she tried to close her eyes for her much needed sleep. She was definitely still angry with her mother, her blood boiling every time she replayed the conversation. But a nagging feeling in her gut told her there was something about what she said that had her feeling like it might do her good to listen to her mother.

“Keep your door locked at night. And if you think you hear your father walking around the house during the night…” Her mother paused at the door debating her next words. “Don’t get out of bed, and don’t under any circumstances, open the door.”

Y/n grumbled as she rolled over in her bed, trying once more to find any sort of comfortable position to lay in that might help her thoughts detangle themselves. She wasn’t ignorant, nor was she a fool. Every person that’s lived or worked on these grounds knows that they are occupied by more than just the living. Even their strongest and most adamant skeptics join in on their annual staff New Year’s Eve ghost story exchange by the end of their first year.

The most stubborn - a housekeeper who was hired around Y/n's 6th birthday made it nearly 7 years before she had broke. Revealing to a smug crowd that her beliefs had been challenged by the end of her first year but she couldn’t bring herself to accept it until that previous fall. She had been transferred from the hotel cleaning staff to the estates, leading to her first of many run-ins with one of Y/n's great grandmothers, Patti Wörner. Patti had died in her late 40s from cancer and loved more than anything to make her presence known in the study. Most commonly, she’s reported to be seen with her nose stuck in a book and a cigarette poised between her fingertips. She will crack a joke about the smoke being the death of her while taking another exaggerated drag of her poison of choice before vanishing. Leaving nothing behind but the lingering smell of smoke and a phantom laugh.

But her mother was insinuating something much more dangerous than that of her late great great great grandmother’s smoking habits- it seemed the spirit's energy had continued the rising trajectory it had before she had left. The catalyst being the morning her sister had been found dead on the grounds. Y/n finds herself staring holes into her closet door where her sister's photos sit, tucked inside the jewelry box.

Even the grounds seemed to mourn the loss of Matilda. All celebrations were canceled for the remainder of that year. The flowers refused to bloom and the trees reluctant to bear fruit, and the spirits of the ground grew increasingly restless. For the first time in decades, the hotel was vacant of its living guests.

The once friendly energies of passed on relatives gradually turned sour as the years went on. The last few times she had seen Patti from the corner of her eye, her brows were knit with irritation as her and the boys ran past the study doors, instead of her usual playful tone telling them to watch their step. By the time Y/n left for highschool, Patti’s laughter had been replaced with disembodied guttural coughing fits. The soldiers that they had gotten used to seeing walking calmly through the tree line were seen running across the lawn, or hiding behind shrubs with their rifles aimed at innocent passers by. The trailing sound of clinking glasses and laughter that would waft up from the dining room had blended into rushed whispers, and then an uncomfortable silence. Like they were still in there, but were too scared to speak, content with just keeping their eyes on anyone that meandered in by themselves. Technical problems became more apparent at both the Adelaide and the theater, and more and more stories began to pop up from hotel guests about feeling uneasy or watched in their rooms. Everything felt eerie instead of warm. Phantom music turned to disembodied screams and cries. Bright welcoming figures turned dark and menacing. But never had they ever gone so far as to hurt anyone or intentionally scare anyone- not that she could remember anyways.

Y/n’s thoughts wandered back to her experience on the front steps, and her heartbeat picked up speed at the memory. The way that she hadn’t been able to move her own body, and the overwhelming darkness that had taken over the hotel coming back to her. The voice, and the grip on her hand made her suspect it was her little sister’s greeting. Something she had grown accustomed to everytime she would return from a long time away. It was usually a rush as she ran by, a knock on her wall, or she would hear her giggle out on the lawn. But never had she ever experienced anything like that here before from her sister. Something must really be very wrong. She squeezed her eyes shut, forcing her mind into the first layers of sleep.

She was drifting through into the realm of unconsciousness, no longer awake but not yet asleep. Images of her friends, of her sister, and of the hotel were floating through her subconscious. Just before she could take the final leap into dreamland she was yanked back into reality by a sound down the hall. The floorboards creaked beneath the weight of a heavy footstep resounding on the landing. Y/n shot up, her blood rushing in her ears at such a volume she couldn’t tell if she could hear any other footsteps, or if it was her own mind.

“Keep your door locked at night. And if you think you hear your father walking around the house during the night. Don’t get out of bed, and don’t under any circumstances, open the door.” Heeding her mothers words with some form of will power she hadn’t known she was capable of, she laid her head back down, and closed her eyes trying to will herself to sleep. It must just be Yoongi, Hoseok said he was a night owl after all. She tried to soothe her nerves with this thought, holding onto it like a lifeline. Y/n’s body jolted in a panic at the grind of her neighbors door knob turning twice. She waited, but no door opened. The footsteps thumped to her door next, and stood right outside her threshold. She could see the shadow of the person's feet backlit by the lights casting across her floor and stretching down onto her rug from beneath the door. She watched in horror as her doorknob turned once in each direction- the metal groaning in protest with each movement. When her door did not budge, the person moved onto the door across the hall. This time however, the door knob was only heard twisting once, before the door gave way. The shuffling sound dragged its way into the room at an unbearably slow pace, and Y/n strained her ears to hear something that could calm her nerves, a sign that it was just her neighbor stumbling in after a long night- perhaps drunk and confused. It was nearly impossible to hear the rummaging of the being as they moved about her mystery neighbor’s room over her own heartbeat and nervous swallows. Her stomach churned as she heard the figure begin to mutter -a deep rumbling sound that sounded too close to her own father’s mumbles- and for a moment she feared she might throw up. But she could not move -would not move. She would not get out of bed. The footsteps retreating from the nearby room, with the door shutting painfully slow behind them. They made their way back down the hall, disappearing down the staircase. She shut her eyes as hard as she could, telling herself the sooner that she was to fall asleep, the sooner she'd be able to start hunting for answers. And as if some angel took pity on her poor, meddling soul- she fell into a deep and dreamless sleep.

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Y/n awoke abruptly to the sound of a child’s playful shriek outside her window, and the sun filtering through her curtains. She lifted her body off her mattress and her joints cracked in protest, her eyes burning from a lack of quality sleep. Fumbling for her phone she checked the time- 10:38 am. She had missed the breakfast that was usually served at the estate, so nodding to herself she decided the first plan of action would be to grab caffeine and something to eat from the cafe in the lobby. The thought of not having to face anyone else at the breakfast table paired with the idea of having some time to herself not locked up in her room giving her a bit of pep in her step. Pulling on something warm enough to combat the early spring chill but cool enough to move around freely, she took a few extra minutes to freshen up and make herself look more alive. Checking to make sure she had her phone and her wallet, she unlocked the door and stepped out into the hallway. Her eyes caught on a small sticky note as it fluttered to the floor from its previous spot on her door, lines of what was clearly in Hoseok’s scribbled writing sprawled across the green paper.

“You missed breakfast sleepy head :p

Be sure to get something to eat from the hotel. If you don’t sleep the day away, Jimin has a few more tours at 10:15, 11:30, 12:45, and 1. No one has let it slip that you’re here, but he’s figured out there’s a surprise because Namjoon can’t keep a secret to save his life -_-. Because of that, he hasn’t shut up with the nagging. For the rest of our sake, please try and go on one of the tours before his lunch break at 2. Just talk to Jin at the desk and he can get you on the roster for whichever one you want.

Sincerely, your second ex husband <3”

Y/n shook her head with a laugh and made her way down the hall, taking note that if she were to join the 11:30 tour, she needed to get moving. She skipped down the stairs and went straight out the front door, choosing not to dilly dally in the halls for too long in fear of coming face to face with whatever had been outside her door last night. By the time she made it to the courtyard, she let herself feel excited to be back. The prospect of seeing the rest of her friends making her giddy, choosing to focus on that and not her aggravating mother. She waved to a few of the hotel guests on their way to their courtyard side rooms and slipped through the hall back to the upper lobby. She made quick work of the tiled floors, suddenly hyper aware of the fact that she wasn’t sure where Jimin’s early tours were, and she didn’t want to spoil the surprise by loitering about the lobby.

The Edelweis pulled her in with the smell of freshly brewed coffee, sweet pastries and savory breakfast sandwiches. Its brown leather stools lining the counter were half full, but the tables had been mostly deserted by now -the morning rush for a Friday long gone. She hesitated at the counter, her eyes scanning the menu. Debating between something sweet or something savory when the young person at the counter perked up.

“The usual?” They asked.

Y/n began to shyly turn, worried she was being mistaken for someone else, when a gravelly voice cut her off.

“Yes, please. Thank you.”

The worker nodded and began to prepare a drink, pouring ice into a large cup and rounding over to the espresso machine. Y/n turned her attention away from the menu to glance at the man standing several feet away, his long fingers tapping against the counter near the register. His black hair was long, and curled around his pierced ears and down the nape of his pale neck. He was a bit more lanky than Namjoon and Jungkook, but not at all what she'd consider weak. He was wearing a red two piece utility suit with a white undershirt peeking out from where he left the first few buttons undone, the long red sleeves rolled up to his elbows that he now shifted to rest on the counter.

Yoongi, She realized. She was unsure what to do. Surely her mom didn’t mean she couldn’t interact with him at all, but after seeing that her words held some truth after her experience last night- she hesitated. She also could not shake the feeling of wanting to deliberately go against her mother’s rules, the grudge she held from their now two arguments as strong as ever. She pried her eyes from his back, returning them to the menu. Settling on a sweeter coffee and a savory breakfast, she took a step closer to the counter, willing her eyes to keep from straying to the man next to her as she decided whether or not to take her mom’s advice.

She heard him sharply exhale, before his head turned to face her. She could feel his onyx eyes scanning her face, and saw his tongue push against his cheek as if he was already on to her efforts to ignore his presence for as long as possible. He had always had a knack for having keen eyes, and seeing through people’s bullshit.

“No warm welcome for me, huh?” Even though his words seemed sharp, his eyes held a humorous glint in them as they tried to catch her own.

“Oh…hi!” She laughed awkwardly, fiddling with her shirt to keep herself calm.

He chuckled to himself, and shifted his weight so he was leaning on only one arm, sizing Y/n up with his gaze. Shaking his head of his own thoughts, he stood straight to accept his iced drink from the employee with a polite nod of his head.

In what Y/n decided must be him matching her energy, he didn’t spare her a glance as he turned and exited the entrance of the cafe. Panicked, Y/n tried to wave her hand to get his attention.

“H-hey! Wait! Aren’t you going to pay for your drink?” Her eyes darted nervously between the confused worker and Yoongi’s retreating figure.

Turning around to face her, his feet still moving backwards into the lobby. “4 years and you forget how everything works, huh? We live here. We, “ he gestured with his finger between the two of them “Don’t have to pay for anything.” Y/n flushed at his teasing tone. She had forgotten about that having gotten used to living elsewhere, glancing down at her wallet that she held ready in her hand and back up at him bashfully. He barked out a laugh and skipped to the elevator to catch the doors before they closed. A guest held them open for him to slip through which he did so gratefully, and leaned over to press the button to his floor. With a sip of his drink and a lazy two fingered salute, the doors closed, removing him from her line of sight.

Y/n ordered her drink and a breakfast sandwich, her cheeks still red in embarrassment from her interaction with Yoongi, and from the worker assuring her multiple times that it was in fact normal for her not to pay. Y/n occupied herself at one of the empty tables while she waited for them to bring her order out by thinking about Jimin’s tour. Pursing her lips, she concluded that since she hadn’t seen any tour groups being herded around the lobby, that with the arrival of early spring, they must have started doing outdoor tours of the grounds already. By the time she got her order she only had five minutes to scarf down the sandwich, and drank her coffee on the way to the front doors of the hotel. Stopping at the desk to say good morning to Jin and request to add her name to the next tour roster, he smiled and obliged- thanking her profusely for choosing an earlier tour. “If he tried to ask me one more time what the surprise was, I might have accidentally pushed him down the front steps.” he joked, as he hand wrote her name in neat penmanship at the bottom of the printed clipboard he had stacked on the shelf below the desk to his right.

Once on the front porch, she surveyed the grounds, finding a small group of about a dozen people waiting down by the front gates. She took the stairs carefully so as not to spill her beverage, and picked up the pace to hustle down the gravel path. She was hoping to get there before Jimin did so she could easily blend into the crowd. By the time she reached the forming tour group, she was slightly out of breath and had barely a minute to spare before the tour was supposed to begin. Choosing to spend the time checking her notifications on her phone, she added giving her notice at her current part-time job, and calling one of her roommates to let them know she was going to be MIA for some unknown amount of time to her mental to-do list. She had to sit down and ask herself how long she was going to stay, but in all honesty she didn’t see herself leaving anytime soon. Whatever was going on with the ghosts, Yoongi, Jungkook, and her mother piqued her curiosity. If she was already here, she might as well try to weasel answers and any sort of apology or explanation from her mother.

“Alright, good morning everyone! Can I have your attention?” A slightly winded Jimin jogged up from the driveway and around the gate, the clipboard from Jin’s desk gripped in the hand that wasn’t raised up in the air to guide people's attention to him. He was wearing a red long sleeve cotton shirt with the hotel’s logo printed on his chest, cargo shorts, and laced up hiking boots. His hair had been dyed a dirty blond, but his brown roots still poked through.

The gaggle of people ceased their conversations and formed a clumsy semi circle around him as he quickly read through the roster. His eyes nearly bulged out of his skull as his head snapped up to look through the crowd, finding her face in an instant. His face split into an overjoyed grin, the energy he had lost from running from the lobby returning to him. In an effort to contain his own excitement, he spoke to the crowd with a newfound vigor, running through their names as quickly as he could. He didn’t bother reading her name out, whether it was because he knew she was accounted for or if it was to spare her from any of the other group members' interrogation she wasn’t sure.

“Thank you for joining us for a tour of the Wörner Hotel and Estate this fine morning. My name is Jimin Park. You can call me Jimin, Mr. Park, J, or any combination of those. The only thing that’s off limits is Jim -call me that and I’ll tell housekeeping to hide all your bath towels.” A few chuckles resounded from the crowd and he continued. “I’ll be your tour guide for the next hour or so, so I hope you have your listening ears ready and your walking shoes on. We cover a lot of ground and a lot of history in that hour, so if you have any questions, I will have designated time for you to ask them periodically throughout the tour. If we run out of time, you can ask me inbetween locations, or at the end of the tour. Any questions before we get started?” He scanned the crowd, for any raised hands.

“Awesome, let's go then.”

Jimin led the group through the gates back down the gravel pathway, stopping about halfway before beginning his script. “The hotel opened its doors in 1875, under the owners Matthäus and Felizitas Wörner. They had designed the hotel to resemble other hotels and opera houses being built in Germany and Switzerland at the time, while taking inspiration from the colonial style surrounding them in the States.” He placed his hands behind his back and began to pace leisurely in front of the group. “Matthäus had been born into a wealthy family, and some of that family had moved to Pennsylvania in the mid 1840s, where he and his pregnant wife eventually followed suit with the intention of opening a hotel in approximately 1855. Now- if you’re from around here, or are from the United States in general, you have a pretty good idea of what exactly was going on here politically during the 1860s. The civil war had only just ended 3 years prior, with one of the deadliest and most influential battles taking place in the neighboring town of Gettysburg. So by the time it started, he left his wife and first born child Freidrich behind to fight. A lot of people assume that the people that fought in the war were U.S citizens, but actually a fourth if not a third of the entire Union Army were foreigners- more specifically Irish and German immigrants. Matthäus was one of those soldiers. If you look here to your right at this plaque, you can see a photo of the man himself in uniform.” Jimin gestured to a stout stone plaque alongside the gravel driveway that harbored a short description of Matthäus, and a black and white grainy photo of his tall stocky frame, clad in uniform and a rifle leant up against his thigh. His eyes clear, gazing diagonally from the camera, sideburns and a scruffy beard vining out from below his military cap.

“Now you may be wondering to yourself ‘Man, why are we talking about the civil war again? Is that all people talk about around here? What does this have to do with anything?’ and to that I have two answers. One: Seriously, why did you come anywhere remotely near Gettysburg if you really didn’t want to hear anything about the civil war? And two: because that was one of the main reasons Matthäus chose this area to build. He was stationed in Gettysburg during the battle, and fought near Little Round Top. He had seen an insurmountable amount of death and suffering on those battlefields and lost many comrades. Once the war had ended, he and his wife picked up where they had left off, planning and drawing up designs for this very hotel. When it came down to where, he had told her he wanted to bring a space where everyone felt safe and welcomed to a place that didn’t have one. To create a beacon of light in an area that had been plagued with so much darkness. So he chose a plot of land as close to Gettysburg as he could while still having the natural appeal that he had wanted, and construction began.” Jimin continued his steps up to the base of the staircase, and the group staggered in behind him. “On this section of brick right here,” He bent over and gestured with two fingers, “you can see the handprints of his wife, two children -Freidrich and Hadwin- and himself in the cement. An ode to his wife and children for being there for him while he fulfilled his dreams, as well as his wishes for this hotel to remain a family legacy. Which clearly, have been fulfilled with seven -nearly eight- generations of Wörner sons and their wives living in and running these very grounds.” He stood and took a step back to let people take turns looking at the brick, some even holding their own hands up to the imprints to compare.

“The tradition of each family member leaving their mark on the hotel has been passed down to today's current Wörner generation.” He sent a wink in Y/n's direction, and she gave him a humorous look. “I won’t spoil all of them for you right away, because where’s the fun in that? There are over 30 distinct ways each person left something behind, and if you find all of them, you can report them to me or any one of the other tour guides and earn yourself a coupon for a free dinner at the Adelaide, on us.” He waited for everyone in the group to inspect the handprints before rubbing his hands together. “Alright, any questions so far?”

One person's hand rose from the front, and Jimin gestured with his own for them to speak.

“Is the Adelaide itself counted as one of “the marks” since it’s named after Adelaide Wörner herself?” A young woman, holding the hand of a disinterested child spoke up.

“Good question! Yes, it is. So be sure to remember that. Most people overlook that one since it’s not as tangible as the handprints- I’m glad I’ve got a clever group with me today.” He gave her a wink, and the woman blushed.

Another hand popped up, a young woman with someone who Y/n could only assume was her husband, both holding one of the lobby’s hotel information pamphlets.

“Yes!’ Jimin pointed at them and promptly turned his body to face them.

“Why was it only the sons that inherited the Hotel? Is it true that Adelaide was technically supposed to inherit it from Matthäus's son instead of her brother?”

Y/n’s eyes wavered as she flickered them back to Jimin, who ignored her gaze, keeping his settled on the woman and her husband.

“We can not be one hundred percent sure, but it’s true that Friedrich I had pondered the idea of leaving the hotel to her in his personal writings, as he had thought of her as the best fit. But in the late 1800’s the idea of a woman running a business was unheard of. And so after some time he had returned to offering it to his sons, Ernst and Friedrich II. Choosing instead to name the restaurant in her honor.” He cleared his throat before continuing. “The concept of one of the Women in the Wörner taking ownership of the hotel has only been debated two other times. Once in the generation after Adelaide, as her brother Ernst had only had daughters for nearly a decade before his son was born, and Friedrich II had chosen to forfeit ownership of the hotel in favor of moving westward. And the third-” He cut himself off looking straight through Y/n “-Well, they haven’t decided yet.”

One more hand popped up, a father of a group of 4. “You in the back, go ahead.”

The man gave a large grin to his children and scowling wife, and faced Jimin with shining eyes.

“Is this place haunted?”

She saw Jimin resist rolling his eyes as he opened his mouth to answer his least favorite question.

After he (reluctantly) answered the man with a “Depends on who you ask”- Jimin had dragged their tour group up and down the property, through some of the smaller walking trails, around the edges of the estate, into the courtyard, and back around the property to the gardens. An almost full hour where he fit about as much as he could about the building and the 7 main generations of Wörners while still answering the random questions people threw his way. Y/n waited off to the side, as Jimin who any other time would love the predicament he’s in: cornered by a well meaning guest who genuinely just wants to ask questions that he can dump answers onto. But right now Y/n watched him give short answers and inch away in her direction. When the older couple finally backed off, he practically jumped onto Y/n with such force that he almost knocked the both of them over.

“I can’t believe you’d do that to me, surprise me on the job when I can’t stop and say hi. How cruel~” He whined dramatically into her shoulder as he swayed them back and forth.

“It was Hoseok’s idea, not mine.” She hugged him back tightly, he had always been very easy for her to be affectionate with, with that being his preferred form of affection. When not occupied he practically hung off of anyone he could get his hands on. His head was always thrown on whoever’s lap or shoulder he was closest too, and he avoided doing anything by himself since she could remember- having been dragged into one of his shenanigans more times than she could count. He released her from his rib cracking hug, clear offense written on his face.

“I knew he would be behind this- he better watch his back, I’m going to get’ em.” Jimin playfully tussled two fists in the air and gave one quick punch.

“I’m sure you are,” Y/n snickered and grabbed his fists pushing them down. “ -Great tour by the way. “ She tried to steer the conversation away from Hoseok in hopes of sparing him, if not just a little.

He preened at the compliment, and bashfully smiled. “Ah, thank you. I’ve worked hard to learn the ins and outs of this place, while still making it digestible and not boring to my patrons.” He gasped and grabbed her arm. “Does this mean that everything got figured out with your parents? Are you ya know…” He glanced over both shoulders suspiciously, and Y/n cut him off.

“Uh, not exactly. They haven’t brought up anything relating to the argument yet.”

His shoulders shrunk in on themselves, and he rubbed the back of his neck apologetically. “Sorry, I shouldn’t have brought it up.”

“No it’s fine, you didn’t know.” She caught Jimin looking at the lobby doors and back to his watch with dejected eyes. “You got another tour to catch, right?”

“Unfortunately. Property tours are my favorite, but I’d rather kick rocks than do that right now. Meet me for lunch today so we can catch up? I get off at 2. Unless you have something else planned..?” He gave her a hopeful look.

“Nope, I’m all yours.” She gave him her best smile which he returned.

“See you then!~” He sang as he ran up the front steps, taking them two at a time.

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While she waited for 2pm to roll around, she busied herself by checking things off of her to-do list, using it as an excuse to enjoy the large garden seating area to the left side of the hotel. She submitted her resignation to her part-time customer service job with a brief explanation- to which her manager simply responded with a thumbs up. She wasn’t sure if they had fully read her message, or if they genuinely just didn’t care. She assumed the latter, they’d probably have a new replacement by tomorrow. The discussion with her roommates was a bit more complicated. Even though she promised to pay her portion of the rent, they insisted that she either come back by the end of the next week or move out. She huffed out in agitation. They have been probably waiting for a reason to kick her out of their lease agreement, she thought to herself. Well, whatever they want then. There won't be anyone left to clean all of their dirty dishes, and no produce for them to steal. She told them as much, along with a short, I’ll be by to clean out my stuff by the end of next week. A promise she wasn’t sure how to fulfil- surely she could drag Hoseok and ask a few of the other boys to help her.

Making a list on her phone of what she owned from the shared space off of the top of her head, she took notice of the time nearing closer to two, and closed her phone. Rising from her seat, she traipsed through the garden paths and up the front steps to the lobby where she assumed she would meet Jimin after he ended his last tour. And she assumed correctly, she could already see him handing Jin the last clipboard while they shared a few words, looking a bit washed out and tired. As she approached, Jimin’s ears perked up in her direction and she saw him lean in to excitedly tell Jin something- who just rolled his eyes in response.

“Ready for lunch?” Y/n stopped a few feet away, and bounced on the balls of her feet in excitement. While she should feel nervous about her roommates and her other real world problems, she couldn’t lie that the idea of leaving them behind in the dust didn’t make her day a little bit brighter. Despite the nerves curling in her stomach at the prospect of rekindling another friendship.

“More than you know,” he spun around with an exaggerated groan and grasped one of her hands in one of his own. “I’ve walked probably 10 miles already today, I’m starving, and to top it off: no one had any interesting questions in any of my last few tours.” He pouted as he pulled her towards the double staircases and away from Jin. She barely managed to give the poor man behind the desk a wave before she couldn’t safely look at him in fear of falling down the stairs.

“Were they actually boring questions, or were you just impatient to get off of work?” She side eyed him as he continued lugging her across the upper lobby and down the red carpeted hall to the Adelaide. Photos of all of their esteemed musical guests were preserved, from jazz and big band: to orchestral, opera and ballet performers from the downstairs theater were framed and hung on the wall. Her favorite, a photo of both her Great grandfather, her grandfather, Yoongi’s grandfather (their pianist back in the day) with a toddler aged Mr. Jung in his arms, all posing next to Sinatra himself, whose signature was scrawled in black ink in the bottom corner.

“Touché.” He laughed. He held two fingers up to the host who stood wearing a bored expression at the podium. He gave them a disinterested nod and led them through the extravagant red doors to the seating area. The inside of the Adelaide looked like a red speakeasy in design, but a dining reception hall built for a wedding in size. A fully stocked wooden bar was nestled into the front left corner, with the bar counter curving around to create two separate areas of stool seating. The lights were always kept dim enough to not make the room size not seem too daunting and keep up with an intimate vintage atmosphere. The restaurant wasn’t empty with other families and couples having the same idea to enjoy a late lunch after all of their early morning activities, but it wasn’t too busy either with it being too early for the Friday night dinner rush to start. The back wall was completely taken up by a rather large wooden platform stage flanked with lush red velvet curtains. The mics were all set up on the stage, but no one was currently performing. The piano lid closed, and the lights mostly turned off. Billie Holiday was crooning from the speakers above, creating a nice relaxed atmosphere. They passed a few patrons that waved kindly to Jimin, and he waved back with a friendly smile. Y/n recognized one of them as the elderly couple that was on her tour that same morning.

They were taken to a table closer to the back near the empty stage. Jimin excused the host boy gently with a quick thanks, and waited for Y/n to take her seat so that he could push in her chair for her before seating himself. Jimin opened his mouth to speak but was interrupted by their waitress stopping in to introduce herself and give them each a glass of water. She passed out two menus and Jimin ordered two lavender lemonade mocktails- A drink they used to share together when she’d return from her in school housing for the summer in their teenage years, giggling and pretending it was something much more sophisticated.

“So, what brought you back?” Jimin’s warm brown eyes peeked up at her from the rim of his glass of water.

“The hotel anniversary I guess. My mom sent me-well I guess actually my Dad- sent me an invitation.” Y/n fiddled with her glass, passing it around in her hands.

“And you just accepted it?” He placed his class down with wide eyes. "Honestly after that last Christmas I thought you wouldn’t be back without an attorney or something.” He was only half joking when he said it, not bothering to scan his menu and placing it at the edge of their table.

“I don’t know what I was thinking, if I was even thinking at all. I just got the letter and hopped on the first train here like I was possessed or something.” Y/n mused, turning her eyes downcast to scan her own menu.

“Just like that?” He asked incredulously, his eyes flashing with something she couldn’t read.

Y/n nibbled on her lip, not looking up from her menu. “Yeah. I guess just like that.” She mumbled.

He hummed in thought and draped his arm across the back of his chair, his eyes following the movement of something over her shoulder. Glancing up at him she assumed it was the waitress, and quickly looked back at her menu to decide on what to get before she made it to their table. When she waited about a minute and the waitress still hadn’t shown, she looked back up at Jimin to still see him lost in thought, his eyes still entranced by something over her shoulder. Following his gaze, she found nothing but the door to the kitchen- only a single port hole window looking in or out.

“What are you thinking about?” Y/n coaxes his attention back to her with her words, he seemed to jump out of whatever trance he was in and turned to her with a reserved smile.

“Sorry, I was thinking about a question someone asked me today.” He chuckled.

“Yeah? Which one would that be? I thought you said no one asked any interesting questions?” She chided, bumping his shoulder with her own.

His answer was cut short by the waitress again, who gave them an effortless smile as she placed their drinks in front of them. The nostalgic flavor combination pulled a gentle smile to Y/n’s face as she instantly took a quick sip.

“Everyone ready to order or do you need a few more minutes?” She asked politely.

“I think we are ready.” Jimin raised his eyebrows at Y/n, gesturing for her to go first.

Y/n glanced down at her menu and ordered the first thing she saw- Fresh pasta tossed in an aurora sauce. Jimin ordered a red pepper marinated steak of some kind, and the waitress whisked their menus away gracefully.

“So, what was the question?” Y/n inquired.

Jimin dismisses the question with a wave of his hand. “Eh, it’s not that important. What’s more important is how you answer my question first,” he gave her a small playful shove, “Which is: why you ignored me for four years but all your parents had to do was send one invitation for you to come back. If I would’ve known that would be all it took, I would’ve sent you one by the end of your first week.”

“Ignored you? Me?” Y/n scoffed dramatically, “Never.”

He laughed softly, and his eyes shifted slightly in the dim lighting. Y/n had realized yet again that he was only half joking- his tell tale sign that he was testing the waters of a more meaningful discussion. Almost herding the conversation into a specific direction but never actually getting there, trying to read the other party's reaction first.

Y/n puffed out a reluctant sigh, and followed his lead. She had ignored them, and he wanted to talk about it. Y/n reached over and grabbed his hand that was resting on the table. “Look Jimin, I’m sorry that you got caught in the crossfire of whatever is going on with me and my parents. I’m sorry that all of you did. I wish I would’ve reached out to you guys to give each of you a chance to explain yourselves. I’m sure there was a reason they told you not to tell me- and however stupid or unreasonable I think that reason is-I shouldn’t have let it come between me and all of my friends.”

His usual cheery demeanor seemed to melt away, revealing the rare other side of him that is much more calm, sharp, and insightful. His eyes never left hers as he brought his lemonade to his lips, savoring the flavor for a moment, and placing it back on the table with a gentle clink.

“You’re right. You shouldn’t have.” He halted his words, letting them sink in. He didn’t want her to stew on them too long before he continued. “But that’s not where I was going with my question. I don’t blame you- not fully anyway. What your parents had pulled was shitty, point blank. Especially letting it unfold in front of everyone like that. We know-” He stopped abruptly, but inspecting Y/n’s expectant face he continued. “We know a lot more behind-the-scenes stuff than you give us credit for. So don’t beat yourself up.”

“We?” Y/n pushed, she felt like she was on the precipice of something. “And what kind of stuff?”

He ignored her question, and asked his own one more time. “Why did you come back Y/n?”

Her eyes couldn't decide which of his to look at , and quivered back and forth under his scrutinizing gaze.

“I don’t know.” She emphasized each word, rolling them from her tongue slowly.

He ran his hand through his messy hair and his eyes flickered nervously about the room. “I figured as much.”

“Jimin, you’re acting weird and secretive and it’s freaking me out. What’s going on? Who is ‘we’?”

“I’m afraid I’ve already said more than I should.” He leaned back in his chair again, his eyes flashing to the kitchen door then back to hers.

Y/n’s heart dropped into her stomach, the old scars of betrayal feeling poked and prodded at. “What is this, did my mom tell you not to say something? Please talk to me, Jimin.”

He ignored her question again, and the waitress returned with their plates. The food looked like it came out of a magazine and if it had been any other day she would have devoured it, but Y/n’s appetite had diminished to nothing. As if reading the energy at their table, the waitress didn’t stay for very long- she practically scurried away the second the plates hit the table top.

Jimin picked up his fork, but hesitated to begin eating. His eyes inspected every inch of her face, and then he spoke again.

“I wish I could tell you, Y/n. I really do. But if I’m being honest, I don't know all of the details yet either. Just the ones that I’ve been able to piece together with what has traveled down the grapevine. I don’t have parents that were close to yours to gossip back to me about all the goings on at the estate like some of the other guys do.” He finally cut a piece off of his steak and took his first bite, chewing slowly.

Y/n didn’t know how to answer what he was saying- it was all confusing her even further. What did he know that she didn’t? And most importantly, what did the others know that he didn’t.

He took another bite, his gaze shifted back to the kitchen door and then returned to her for the umpteenth time.

“You want to know what question I can’t get out of my head from the tour today?”

Y/n perked up a margin, at least he was answering one of her questions even if it wasn’t one of the ones she really wanted him to answer.

He took her lack of protest as his sign to keep going. “Well actually there’s two questions I can’t stop thinking about, but I think I might know someone that can help me find those answers.” He said the last half of his sentence very slowly, his eyes trying to convey a message to Y/n that she didn’t understand. “The first being the question that woman had asked me on the tour you were on today. The question about why the hotel and estate hasn’t been given to one of the daughters yet, specifically….. Adelaide.” His hand made an exaggerated gesture to the restaurant, but he made an extra point to take his time pointing in her own direction. “I can’t seem to figure out all the details to that one.” His eyes bore into hers- he was trying to tell her something without saying it outloud with each word he emphasised, and he had been this entire time. The surefire Jimin way to find a loophole to one of their parents’ rules: To say it without saying it. Something the two of them had done a lot of as teenagers. “The second question” -He picked up where he left off- “Being the one that’s constantly plaguing me and my patrons.” He leaned over the table to get as close to her as he could, his voice barely above a whisper. “‘Is this place haunted?’”.

His gaze was so intense, Y/n felt as though she couldn’t breathe. Her brain was having trouble focusing with how close he was to her, and the way he was burning holes into her skull as if trying to beam what he wanted to say straight into her brain.

Think! She chastised herself. He’s telling you in the only way he can.

There was so much of everything yet nothing in this conversation. She pinched the bridge of her nose and replayed his words again. “The question about why the hotel and estate hasn’t been given to one of the daughters yet, specifically….. Adelaide”. He wasn’t talking about Adelaide at all, he was talking about her, she realized -putting together the emphasis and his gesture. Recognition shone in her eyes as she snapped her gaze back to his, the shadow of an encouraging smile stretching across his lips. “But I think I might know someone that can help me find those answers.”

“Who?” She croaked.

“Who what?” He tilted his head and went to scratch his neck.

“Who do you think would best answer your questions about…” Y/n hesitated. “…Adelaide?” Y/n shivered suddenly feeling like there were eyes on her from all directions, similar to how she felt out front yesterday. Trying to look more natural, she forked some pasta into her mouth and chewed robotically. She couldn’t care less about her lunch anymore.

Jimin’s cheerful demeanor came back tenfold, bordering on too nice. “Oh why, that’d be Yoongi of course, I may know the history of this place but he’s good at offering a nuanced perspective. Enough about work and the hotel though. I want to hear about you.” Y/n knew that meant she wasn’t getting any more out of him at the moment, but it was more than anyone else had given to her in the past four years.

Fuck what her mom said, and whatever reasoning she thought she had. Y/n will compromise with her mom whether or not she wants to- a taste of her own medicine. She will keep her door locked at night, just like she had told her to. But Y/n had already made up her mind by the time Jimin stabbed his fork into his next bite. She needed to talk to Yoongi.

_________________________________________

December 25th, four years prior

The room echoed with laughter and joyful conversation. The room decked floor to ceiling in lights, garland and antique holiday decor. The dining room table had been extended to its full length from nearly wall to wall to accommodate everyone who had come home, dinner had been served well over an hour ago, but the revelry still marched on. Their early 1900s upright phonograph spinning Nat King Cole’s holiday record at a comfortable volume, was barely heard over the merry atmosphere of those around the table. Mr Jung and Mr. Jeon’s cheeks were both flushed from probably their 5th glass of wine, and both of them leaned up against the phonograph. They had designated themselves as the ones to crank the machine when needed, stating that the spot gave them the perfect view of the family to coo at all of their adult children and how much they’d grown. Some -including Y/n herself- enjoying her first Christmas as a legal drinker, which led both older men down the spiral of tossing their favorite stories of each of the young adults as children. Jungkook was hanging off of Yoongi and Hoseok, the both of them teaching the former how to take shots and laughing at the faces the youngest would make as the liquid burned his throat. The mothers: Mrs. Jung, Mrs. Wörner, Mrs. Min and Mrs. Kim were sitting near each other huddled about the end of the table, picking at what was left on their plates as they placed bets on which one of their husbands would be the drunkest. They erupted like a group of giggling school girls when Mr. Min stumbled in to place a large kiss on his wife’s cheek, slurring out that he was going to find Mr. Kim who had wandered into the kitchen moments earlier to find more wine. Y/n’s father was sitting near her mother, a hand on her knee, relishing in the sight of the house being alive. Amelia and Namjoon were comparing different colleges for Namjoon to go to while a very tipsy Jin would swirl his glass and ask nonsensical questions about each one they showed him pictures of. “But do they allow dogs?” He asked like it was the most obvious question in the world.

“I don’t have a dog.” Namjoon would sigh.

“That wasn’t my question.”

Y/n laughed at Jin’s probably hundredth interruption to her left, and turned to her brother Roland who was playing toy figurines with Jimin on her right hand side. She watched the little Paw Patrol dogs waddle back and forth across the table as their story unfolded, one of the dogs in her brother’s hands imitating what she could only assume was a breakdancing meets acrobatics routine. She looked up from the “dance” as Hoseok patted her on the shoulder when he passed with a sly “You should join us for the next round” to which she nodded, and he excused himself to the bathroom with a happy heart shaped smile.

“What a great performance from Trouble!-” Jimin’s squeaky high-pitched tone was cut off by her brother’s stern voice correcting him “It’s Rubble.”

“My apologies,” Jimin’s voice dropped to his normal level before jumping back up. “Here comes the owner of the hotel to welcome our final and most prestigious performer!”

Her brother’s hand hovered over the pink suited dog that she had always used when she played with him since Roland had assigned that to her as her designated dog. He picked her up momentarily before dropping it, instead choosing to grab the small brown dog he used for himself.

“Mr. Roland Wörner! The best owner the hotel has ever seen!” Roland did his best attempt at mimicking Jimin’s announcer voice, and flew his brown dog through the air to land on their makeshift stage. Y/n laughed and joined in, picking up the pink dog and landing it on the stage to interact with his toy.

“Nuh uh. You know this hotel is mine.” She did her best tiny voice, jokingly moving her dog in an offended circle.

“No, it’s mine!” Roland’s fake deep voice pointed at her, his toy playfully kicking her dog off the stage.

“No way Jose. Says who?” Y/n could hardly contain her giggles.

Roland looked up with real confusion on his face, his brows furrowed together innocently. “Yes way, Mom and Dad said so.”

Y/n’s laughter trickled down, the fruity cocktail in her system making her more lax with his silly antics. “No way bud. I start apprenticing next year and everything. Guess you should’ve been born earlier, sucks to suck. “ She stuck her tongue out playfully, and tried to keep playing with him. Instead he ripped the dog out of her hand and huffed.

“I’m being serious, Ente.” The way he used her nickname that was saved only for her siblings with such seriousness and a defiant glare had the beginning prickles of irritation settling under her skin. Jimin gave a puzzled look between the two of them, and slowly put the toy dalmatian down on the table.

“Alright cut it out Küken, it’s not funny.” She refuted, and folded her arms.

“I’m not being funny! Mom and Dad said so!” He began to yell at her, gathering the attention of others at the table. Her father’s voice called to him from their mother’s side.

“Whatever nonsense you two are getting up to, you better knock it off.” Her father was trying to remain jovial, but they could see the authoritative glint in his eye.

“Tell her, Dad. She said she’s still getting the hotel instead of me.” Roland’s eyes began to water as he looked up at their father. He genuinely believed this, Y/n realized with a quiet laugh. She waited for her dad to correct him. But it never came.

Instead, all conversation in the dining room ceased until the only sound was the scratchy singing of the old record. Even the drunken rummaging of Mr. Kim and Mr.Min from the kitchen could no longer be heard. Y/n stared expectantly at her parents, her fingers began to drum against where she had crossed them against her forearms. Her parents shared a look at each other that had Y/n’s blood pressure rising.

“Well?” Y/n egged her parents on. “Dad?”. The man in question seemed to be frozen, his mouth partially open and his eye’s unreadable.

It was her mom that spoke up instead.

“We were going to tell you after the holidays.” Her voice was low and annoyingly controlled, as if she was trying to qualm a cornered animal.

“Tell me what?” Y/n let her gaze run across every face in the room. Namjoon and her sister were sharing a look of uncertainty. Jin was apparently enamoured with watching the bubbles in his glass move about as he twisted it. No one would look at her, except for Yoongi who’s black eyes couldn’t decide whether to look at her or her parents. But the rest didn’t have to look at her, she could see it on their faces. They were pitying her. They must have known.

She repeated her question with more force, becoming a demand. “Tell. Me. What.”

“Let’s not do this here, we are having such a good time-” Her mother tried to change the subject, but no one moved.

“We were having a good time, but not anymore. Tell me now. Because from where I’m sitting, it looks like I’m the last to know.” Her face burned with anger or embarrassment but she couldn’t tell which just yet. Her dad still hadn’t moved. His muscles were taut and rigid.

“Y/n, we decided that it might be best if we followed tradition and left the hotel to your brother.”

Y/n couldn’t breathe. Everything she had wanted and waited for, gone in a matter of seconds.

“What tradition? He just turned 7 a few months ago. You can’t just-”

“Y/n it’s tradition.” Her mother’s tone was stern, but her eyes were shining with unshed tears.

“A stupid one, you both said so yourself when we decided it’d be me over a decade ago.” Y/n countered and she leaned forward to grip the burgundy tablecloth between her fingers to ground herself. This couldn’t be happening. This can’t be happening.

“Well Y/n it’s always been a Wörner that ran the hotel. What if you get married?” Her mother’s voice was growing hoarse, but she wouldn’t let a single tear fall.

“ Then I don’t change my last name if I marry a man! I marry a woman and she takes mine! I don’t marry at all so no one has to do anything! There are so many ways around that. What kind of dumb excuse is this? Is this some sort of sick joke?” Her eyes were burning with her own pooling tears, that would surely spill over in seconds with how quickly they filled her lash line.

Her mother opened her mouth in defeat, turning to her father for help but he remained unmoving. Her mother dropped her face in her hands and held it there, shaking it slowly.

“What about you? Are you going to say anything dad? Anything at all?” Y/n eye’s turned wild as she rained her anger onto him. She had only ever seen this look in his eyes a few times. Her grandmother's funeral, and when her sister had died. He was shutting down. “I thought that we-” her voice broke. “I thought that this was our dream. You and I, working together on the hotel until it was my turn. All of those meetings, all of the lessons. All of the times you promised me that I’d get my chance. What about all of that? Does that not hold any weight against this tradition?” Her tears were flowing freely down her face by this point. She felt Jimin’s hand grip her elbow with so much gentleness it almost hurt more than if he had slapped her.

To her ever growing fury, her dad continued to stay in his state of reticence. He was giving her nothing. He wouldn’t even look at her anymore.

“What about all of you- how long have you all been lying to me?” She swept her hand around the room of people she thought she could trust. Her eyes only found ashamed sideways glances and the tops of people's heads as they looked down.

“It was my idea.” Her mother’s muffled voice pierced through her entire being. “Don’t yell at your father, or anyone else. Be angry with me.” She raised her head from her hands and fixed her line of sight back on Y/n.

“Are you serious?” Y/n’s wrath consumed every fiber of her being, forcing her body to tear her arm from Jimin’s grasp as she jerked to her feet. Her cocktail worked overtime to keep her from exploding right there and then.

“I don’t think you can handle it. I mean, look at the way you’re responding to this conversation. We were having such a good holiday and you-” Her voice faltered , but with a shake of her head an unwavering look took over. She stood and rounded the table to come face to face with her daughter. “You ruined it. You lack the control it would take to handle the pressure of it all. You are too emotional. You are weak. We can start over with your brother. You, on the other hand, are too far gone to fix.”

“You said that I could be the first-” Y/n shook her head, as if trying to will herself to wake up from a terrible nightmare.

Her mother cut her off. “Don’t be such a guileless child. They would never take a woman seriously as an owner. It’s time to stop day-dreaming and take a step into reality Y/n.”

With each word, her heart shattered. They were sharp, cutting into her bones and burrowing deep inside her chest. They used to tell her that her strong emotions were tools that gave her power and made her intelligent, and here they were- ripping up a doll they had sewn together with their own hands, blaming the doll for the way it looked. She tried to find any sort of remorse in her mother’s eyes- a fraction of the mother that used to say she believed in her every day. Who told her how proud she’d be to have her daughter be the first woman in charge of the hotel. She wasn’t there. Her eyes were empty, decided and cold.

Y/n staggered back, unable to contain the sob that ripped from her chest as she fumbled for the door.

“Fine. If you truly think that way, I will just go. You all can go back to your wonderful Christmas. ” Her hands slipped on the handle, and she had to reach for it again. Opening it felt like she was pulling a hundred pounds of weight with how numb her body felt. “Don’t expect me to come back then since I’m such a terrible fuck-up. I’ll spare you of having to try and ‘fix me’”. She slammed the door behind her, and started down the hall.

_________________________________________

Ente-Duck

Küken- baby chick

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