A week had quickly passed by since Charlie had gotten Razzle back.
Now, Charlie Morningstar stood proudly in front of her brand-new place, a tall, crooked building twelve floors high.
A sailing ship and a carousel littered both sides and seemed to have been fused into the building itself. There was even a train, its tracks looping wildly around the second to fifth floor exterior.
And above the entrance hung a flickering, half-dead sign that spelled out the words:
"HAPPY HOTEL."
It wasn't much yet. The windows were dark and grimy, the walls scarred from years of neglect, and the front entrance was half-swallowed by moss and dirt. But to Charlie, it was beautiful.
"This is it," she said, taking a deep breath. "The first step toward salvation starts here."
Beside her, Razzle and Dazzle fluttered excitedly, chattering to each other. Floating behind them was a new companion, a small, scruffy demon cat named KeeKee. Her single red eye darted about excitedly as she stared up at the hotel.
KeeKee was mostly black, with uneven white patches and a heart-shaped face. Her tail swished lazily from side to side as the gold tag on her red collar jingled with every movement.
Charlie reached up, and KeeKee jumped gracefully onto her shoulder, purring and rubbing against her cheek. "Ready, KeeKee?" she asked.
The cat gave a low, pleased trill, then dissolved into a swirl of black and pink mist. The vapor twisted in Charlie's palm, forming into an ornate key with red edges and a wing-shaped bow at the end.
Charlie grinned. "Perfect. The magic key to our very first home."
She took a deep breath and turned the lock.
The door groaned open with a sound like it hadn't moved in decades. Inside, the air was thick with dust and cobwebs.
The floorboards were splintered, the paint peeled from the walls, and demon bugs scattered under her feet, freaking out KeeKee, who had turned back into a cat.
And yet… Charlie's grin only grew wider.
"This is amazing!" she shouted, dashing inside.
Razzle and Dazzle exchanged a confused glance as she twirled through the filthy, cobwebbed lobby, kicking up enough dust to choke a lesser Goetia, either that or it was the asbestos.
Charlie coughed violently. "Pfft— okay— note to self: maybe start with ventilation!"
But her child like laughter rang through the halls anyway. "There's a lot of work to do… but once this place is done, it's going to shine like new!"
With a quick snap of her fingers, her outfit shimmered and transformed into a frilly, old-fashioned cleaning uniform, complete with gloves and a feather duster.
Razzle and Dazzle each found themselves wearing tiny maid caps, holding cleaning brushes they definitely didn't remember owning.
"The first thing to do," Charlie said dramatically, pointing toward the grand staircase, "is clear out this entire hotel!"
Dazzle sighed and muttered something that sounded suspiciously like, we're all going to die of tetanus, while Razzle just sighed in agreement.
And so, the work restoration officially began.
---
It took two exhausting days, countless buckets of water, and an impressive amount of magic, but the main lobby finally looked halfway decent.
The chandelier looked brand new, because it was. Most of the cracked floorboards had been patched, and the faint stench of rot was now masked by lavender-scented candles she'd ordered from the Lust Ring.
But the real work was done in Charlie's room at the top of the hotel. If the rest of the place was still a fixer-upper, her room was a masterpiece, and a reflection of her personality and heart.
Apple and snake motifs decorated the carpet and curtains, subtle nods to her family. A large canopy bed sat in the center, draped with purple and pink fabric that sparkled with fairy lights she'd found "100% off" in a dumpster.
Everywhere, bright, cheerful colors, carnival reds, soft golds, and a bit of glitter, because as Charlie would said, "A room isn't complete without glitter."
At the far end of the room stretched a massive window overlooking Pentagram City. When Charlie sat at her window seat and looked out, it didn't seem like a hopeless endevour anymore.
It seemed like a challenge.
She sat cross-legged on the cushioned bench, Razzle and Dazzle were napping downstairs on the parlor couch, and KeeKee, in cat form, curled up beside them.
Charlie held a book on her lap, her mother's journal. She'd turned to an empty page, thinking it might be a good idea to write her own thoughts inside and someday give it back to her.
She hummed, tapping her pen against the edge.
"It's a start," she said quietly. "A messy, dusty, wonderful start."
From her window seat, Charlie gazed out over Pentagram City. And if she squinted just right, she could barely make out the top of a familiar high-rise on the far edge of the district, Prince's apartment.
Her chest ached faintly at the thought.
After that chaotic night, he had dropped her off and waved her off. Charlie had run straight home to show her father the signed contract, her heart so full of joy she could barely speak.
But when she went back to introduce Prince, he was gone. She'd gone to his apartment the next day but the lights were off, and no answer when she knocked. Even the neighbors hadn't seen him.
As a last attempt, she'd gone to Ricky's Butcher Shop, but no luck there either.
It had been a week now.
She told herself to focus on the hotel, to keep working, but her mind wandered anyway.
Was he hurt?
Was he angry?
Did she do something wrong?
Her reflection stared back at her in the window, her lips parting slightly as she whispered his name.
"...Prince?"
"Yes, Princess?"
"Gahhhh!! FUCK!!!"
Charlie flinched and screamed.
She spun around too fast, her foot catching the edge of a mop bucket. The next thing she knew, she was flat on her back, drenched in soapy water, with a rag hanging off her head.
A deep chuckle came from the doorway.
Prince was leaning casually against the doorframe, arms crossed, his mask showing a bemused look.