Charlie hadn’t expected anyone to describe that struggle in such a way.
She processed it for a long moment before her expression softened into a serious one.
“Angel is upstairs.
But before you go, I want to tell you something.”
She pursed her lips.
Without realizing it, her tone had shifted from formal to familiar.
“No, I need to make this clear first.
Mr.
Moon, Angel…
he’s the hotel’s first guest.
He’s still the only one.
Sometimes he acts a bit—”
“A bit punchable,” Vaggie finished for her, jerking her chin toward the stairs.
“Don’t get your hopes up.
He’s probably palling around with a toilet bowl right now, or he’s busy stuffing a new batch of things into places we can’t find.
Last week it was inside the mattress; the week before that, it was the ventilation ducts.
What we’ve confiscated is enough to open half a pharmacy.”
“Vaggie!”
Vaggie looked at Charlie.
“And he has a boss.
You’ll hear that name sooner or later.
For now, you only need to know one thing: Angel owes a debt.
The kind of debt that can’t be settled with money.”
Charlie quickly added, “But I still feel like there’s more to it than that.
He could just treat this place like a regular inn, but he hasn’t left.
I just…
I can never tell when he’s joking and when he’s at his breaking point.”
She gave a bitter smile.
“So, if he ends up cursing at you or making some terrible jokes, don’t jump to conclusions.
That’s not all there is to him.”
Moon nodded in understanding.
Just as he was about to speak, there was movement at the top of the stairs.
A pink-and-white figure sauntered around the corner and down the steps.
Pinstripe suit, long legs, narrow waist.
One hand held a pink popsicle, another casually brushed the fur on his forehead, and the remaining two hands were tucked into his pockets.
“Someone talking about me?
Just so we’re clear, gossiping about me requires a royalty fee.”
Angel sashayed down the stairs, his eyes locking onto Moon by the sofa the moment he saw him.
He couldn’t look away.
He walked toward Moon and circled him halfway.
Moon caught the scent of strong perfume mixed with the lingering odor of alcohol.
“New guy?” Angel leaned in close, one hand resting on Moon’s shoulder as his fingertips traced the lapel of the suit.
“Nice fabric.
Are you here for a fresh start, or…”
He leaned over, his breath grazing Moon’s ear.
“Are you looking for some fun?
If it’s the latter, for the sake of a future roommate, I’ll give you a discount on the first order.”
“Angel!” Charlie’s face turned beet red.
Moon stepped back slightly, just enough for Angel’s hand to slide off his shoulder, and then bowed to Angel with a level of formality that was almost absurd.
“Mr.
Angel, a pleasure to meet you.
You may call me Moon.”
The popsicle in Angel’s mouth stopped moving.
When people here were flirted with by him, they either cursed him out or tried to buy him.
Some would put on a show of sympathy before cursing him anyway.
And in the face of his sales pitch, they either took the bait or acted holier-than-thou while their eyes wandered.
But this was the first time someone had given him a formal bow after being propositioned.
“Wow~” Angel pulled the popsicle out of his mouth and waved it toward the bar.
“Husk, did you see that?
I just caught an antique order today.”
Husk didn’t even bother to look up; he just let out a grunt.
Angel laughed, though this time there was a hint of appraisal in it.
“I can do the old-school stuff too, don’t worry.
My business range is very broad.
Give me three days, and I can teach you to say ‘thank you’ just by looking at a bed.”
As he spoke, he flopped onto the sofa and patted the spot next to him.
“Come on, sit closer.
Tell me, what do you want from this dump?
Spiritual redemption?
Or physical consolation?”
Moon didn’t sit down.
He pulled over a chair missing a leg, steadied it, and sat.
He maintained a distance from Angel that was exactly on the edge of being polite.
“Miss Charlie said you were the first guest,” Moon said, seamlessly shifting the topic two steps away from himself.
Angel arched an eyebrow.
“Wow, you can count.”
“And you’ve lived here for nearly two months.”
“How sweet, you’re doing a background check.
Keep going, I’m starting to get excited.”
May I ask a question?” Moon smiled.
“You’re already asking, honey.”
“Miss Charlie said the success rate for redemption is zero, and you are the only guest.
By all logic, you should have left long ago.”
“Oh?
Checking my history on our first meeting?
You’re quite the flirt.”
Moon didn’t take the bait.
“What is it that keeps you here?”
Angel let out a “tsk” and sprawled back into the sofa.
“Free lodging.
Free breakfast.
Occasionally some free chicken soup for the soul, even if the breakfast tastes like shit.” After saying this, he blew a kiss to Charlie.
“Hey honey, no offense.
You know I love ya.”
In the corner, Charlie waved her hands awkwardly.
Moon spoke up.
“Free lodging is everywhere in Hell; you’d only need to kick down a door that isn’t sturdy enough.
As for the free breakfast, based on your description, that benefit might even be a negative.”
Husk lifted his head.
“Finally, someone speaking sense.”
Charlie shrank back a little.
Moon continued, “As for the counseling, you start wanting to roll your eyes just hearing the name.
So I’ll ask again.
What is it that keeps you here?”
Angel licked the sugary water from the side of his popsicle.
“Because I feel like it.”
“Unlikely.”
“Because I’m broke.”
“No.”
Angel gestured broadly to his surroundings.
“Because I can’t bear to leave the decor.
Can’t you tell?
I just love moldy carpets and cheap hope.
The only thing in this dump that isn’t free is dignity, and luckily, I lost mine a long time ago.”
“You’re so practiced you can even joke about it.
But you still haven’t answered.”
Angel pointed his popsicle at Moon.
“Then why don’t you tell me, Mr.
Genius—why the fuck am I still here?”