Baekhyun beams around the hotel lobby, his heart pounding with a mixture of nerves, fear, exhilaration, and accomplishment. His tuxedo feels a bit too tight around the collar and the hand holding his champagne – in a crystal flute this time instead of a disposable plastic cup – is shaking.

The lobby looks more magnificent than it ever has before. The light fixtures are clean and sparkling, the electricity up to code with nary a flicker. The wooden floors are polished to a shine, the art hanging on the walls perfectly straight. The classical music that Yixing is so fond of floats hauntingly over the assembled guests, but there’s really nothing to be done about that. After Baekhyun had had a fit trying to get the melancholy ghost to stay out of sight for a bit, he gave in. As Chanyeol had pointed out, Yixing’s music is nearly drowned out by the crowd anyway.

And what a crowd it is. There are the newly-hired and trained staff: concierges, porters, bellboys, waiters and waitresses. There are the friends who have come to support Baekhyun and Chanyeol. Even Jiyong is there with his tall husband with the mysterious scar in his eyebrow, their arms discreetly around each other as they sip their complimentary champagne.

More than that, though, it is the guests. Real guests. Live ones. They mingle around the lobby and grand ballroom, dressed in their finest. Men in pressed tuxedos, women in pearls and cocktail dresses. They chat with one another, commenting on the impeccable restoration of the hotel, the authenticity of the décor. Everyone seems to be enjoying themselves.

Baekhyun stands aside, towards a potted plant beside the front desk, where uniformed concierges are greeting guests even though no one is there to spend the night. He’s just been shaking hands with the well-to-do of Californian society and he needs a bit of a breather. This is just the opening night party to officially announce the opening of the hotel, but it’s going off splendidly. If tonight is any indication – as well as the thousands of pre-bookings they’ve already gotten online – they’re not going to have any problem keeping the hotel open.

Then he frowns. Coming towards him from the elevators, dressed in nurse’s dress circa 1940, is a tall, slim woman with a determined expression on her face. Baekhyun’s heart skips a beat. He’d expressly told all the ghosts – the ones that actually listened, at least – that they were to keep to the upper floors, out of the way, during the party. He’d expected a few of them to ignore him – Victoria is most likely in the ballroom already, Yixing is playing the piano, Sunyoung is doing whatever it is Sunyoung does – but not her. She’s a murdered, not a suicide, and they usually listen.

“What are you doing here, Yuri?” Baekhyun hisses when she reaches his side.

She isn’t given the opportunity to answer immediately, however, as they are interrupted by a wealthy older couple making the rounds around the room.

“Oh, how delightful,” the woman exclaims upon seeing Yuri, decked out as a 1940s nurse. “This costume looks quite authentic.”

Yuri, who is probably one of the smartest ghosts in the place, puts on a smile that even Baekhyun can’t tell isn’t genuine. “Oh, Mr. Byun and Mr. Park wanted to give the guests an authentic experience. The hotel operated as the Westholt Health Facility from 1940 to 1951, so nurses and doctors were quite a common sight throughout these halls at one time.”

The woman seems fascinated. “You know, I’d heard about it being a conservatory back in the twenties but I didn’t know about the hospital! I’ll have to do more research on that!”

The man gave them a placating look. “Clara likes to think of herself as an amateur historian.”

“The hotel has quite a history. I’m sure you’ll find it quite interesting,” Yuri says politely. “I’m afraid I need to speak with Mr. Byun privately for a moment. If you’d excuse us, please.”

“By all means,” the man says, gesturing for them to pass.

Baekhyun gives them a thin smile and follows Yuri. The bottom floor of the hotel is bustling with activity because of the party, but the second floor is deserted. Yuri leads the way up a back stairwell – the one Sehun died in – and stops just at the top.

“What’s going on?” Baekhyun hisses, his fingers clenched so tightly around his champagne flute that it’s in danger of shattering in his hand. “I told you guys to stay out of sight tonight!”

Yuri gives him a flat look. At one time she’d been full of hopes and dreams of making the world a better place, but now – after her gruesome and grisly murder – she’s much more jaded. “We’ve got a problem, Baekhyun.”

“Obviously,” Baekhyun splutters. “Like what are you doing wandering around the lobby looking like you stepped out of World War II?”

Yuri waves his comments aside; she can’t help the clothes she was murdered in, after all. “It’s Mrs. Kim,” she says.

Baekhyun stops ranting. A problem with Mrs. Kim is quite a bit more worrisome than a problem with Yuri, who, in general, is quite reasonable. “What do you mean, Mrs. Kim? I spoke with her before the party and she assured me she would be on her best behavior tonight.”

“Yes, well, Mrs. Kim is governed by her emotions, not reasoning,” the former nurse says. “And she’s convinced that her husband – you know, the one who killed her – is here at your party.”

Baekhyun stares at her stupidly. “Yuri, that’s impossible. Mrs. Kim’s husband has been dead for like a hundred years.”

“Well of course I know that,” Yuri snaps irritably. “But Mrs. Kim thinks it’s true and she’s half a second away from crashing your party. You probably won’t like it if she does.”

Baekhyun privately agrees that he will most definitely not like it if Mrs. Kim appears amongst all the San Francisco high society, but he doesn’t know what to do. Mrs. Kim is notoriously impossible to reason with, after all.

He looks at Yuri helplessly. “What should I do?”

“I have no idea,” she admits. “Usually I can get her to listen to me a bit, but she’s completely ignoring me now.”

“What about Jessica? Or Krystal?” Baekhyun tries, ticking off the ghosts on his fingers to see who might be able to talk some sense into Mrs. Kim. It has to be a woman, since Mrs. Kim hates men – even dead ones. It also has to be a murdered, because the suicides are impossible to control or even converse with logically. Aside from Yuri, that only leaves Jessica and Krystal.

But Yuri shakes her head vehemently. “Mrs. Kim doesn’t get along with Jessica. More like she hates her, and Krystal by proxy. Neither of them are good choices.”

Baekhyun is half a second away from having a panic attack. “. Okay. Let me go find Chanyeol and see if he has any ideas. You try to calm Mrs. Kim down. Try to make her realize that there’s absolutely no way her husband can be here.”

Yuri nods but still seems a bit unconvinced as she fades away, presumably to rejoin Mrs. Kim. Baekhyun tears off down the stairs in search of his partner.

He finds Chanyeol talking to a tall, handsome Asian man by the grand piano. They’re talking and laughing. Under normal circumstances, Baekhyun might even have gotten jealous. As it is, all he can think about is keeping Mrs. Kim from scaring – and perhaps killing – their guests.

“Chanyeol,” Baekhyun tries, sidling up between the two men.

Chanyeol, not sensing the urgency, grins lazily. He’s had a bit to drink and is therefore more relaxed than he normally is. “Baek, there you are! You have to meet Mr. Kim. He’s an architect here in San Francisco.”

“Nice to meet you,” Baekhyun says breathlessly, distracted. “Chanyeol, listen, we’ve got…” He stops suddenly and turns to look at the man Chanyeol has just introduced him to. “What did you say your name was again?”

“Jimmy Kim,” the man introduces himself, holding out his hand with a grin. “My family immigrated here over a hundred years ago, so we’re pretty Americanized.” He laughs a bit at that.

Baekhyun’s brows furrow together. “You wouldn’t happen to be related to Youngwoon Kim, would you?”

Chanyeol stomps on his lover’s foot. “Baek! That’s not a topic we should be discussing right now!”

Jimmy Kim also looks angry. “He’s my ancestor,” he admits, his friendly expression evaporated. “Some lousy investigator accused him of murder recently, so our family’s name is being dragged through the mud. He’s innocent, of course, but you can’t tell the media that.”

Baekhyun doesn’t know what to do with this revelation. So Mrs. Kim’s husband isn’t there, of course, but one of his descendants is. This makes a whole lot of sense.

“Would you excuse us for just one second,” Baekhyun says suddenly, and he drags Chanyeol off to the corner.

Chanyeol shakes Baekhyun’s hand off his arm. “What the hell is wrong with you?” he demands. “You can’t just go around insulting guests and-”

“Taeyeon Kim thinks her husband – the one who murdered her – is here in the hotel and she’s about to go ballistic,” Baekhyun hisses through clenched teeth, quickly checking over his shoulder to make sure no one has overheard him. “Yuri is doing her best to calm Taeyeon down, but I think we need to get this Jimmy Kim guy out of here before Taeyeon makes him a permanent resident, if you know what I mean.”

Chanyeol gapes at him. “What?”

“Yeah,” Baekhyun says hotly. “So unless we want this to be the first and last party we ever throw here at the Westholt, we need to get Jimmy Kim out of here as soon as possible.”

“Okay, agreed.” Chanyeol is breathless, shaking. He’s almost as panicked as Baekhyun is.

But when they turn to find Jimmy Kim, he’s nowhere to be seen.

“,” Chanyeol mutters.

They split up to try and find Jimmy Kim. Baekhyun is all but hyperventilating. He doesn’t doubt for a second that Taeyeon will kill the unsuspecting mortal if she finds him, and, though he does care about murder of course, he’s a bit more preoccupied with the fact that his and Chanyeol’s hotel will never survive another murder.

He makes his way into the kitchen. It’s hustling and bustling with chefs preparing the hors d’oeuvres that the waiters and waitresses have been circling among the guests all night. They’re busy, too busy to notice Baekhyun’s hassled entrance and too busy to notice Minseok and Sehun sitting in the corner. Which is a bit surprising, actually, considering how burned Minseok is. Baekhyun doesn’t like him too much since he’s the reason the hotel partially burned down, but other than that he’s a pretty descent guy. You know, if you can get past the fact that half of his body is burned and he gives off a strong smell of smoke.

 “What are you doing here, Mr. Baekhyun?” Sehun asks curiously, tossing his ball to Minseok, who catches it easily and tosses it back. “Shouldn’t you be at your party?”

“I’m looking for someone. His name is Jimmy Kim,” Baekhyun says, out of breath and flushed in the face. “Have you seen him?”

Sehun’s face remains as blank as ever. “How should I know? I don’t know what this dude looks like.”

Baekhyun resists the urge to face palm. “Have you seen anybody come in here who doesn’t work here? Or who isn’t dead,” he adds quickly, seeing that Sehun is about to say something.

Sehun sighs and closes his mouth.

“Nobody’s been in here, buddy,” Minseok replies, catching the ball again with ease. “Sorry.”

Baekhyun huffs out a thanks and goes scurrying on.

The garden is also full of guests, most of them circled around Krystal and Jessica as they recount stories from the San Francisco plague. Baekhyun groans. So much for the ghosts keeping out of sight. He should’ve known better.

“Jessica, Krystal,” he says, interrupting them breathlessly. “Have you seen a guy named Jimmy Kim walking around? I was just talking to him in the lobby and now he’s gone.”

Jessica doesn’t stop entertaining the guests, but Krystal says, “Sorry Mr. Byun, but nobody’s come out here besides you in about half an hour.”

Cursing under his breath, Baekhyun heads back inside. He passes Luhan entertaining some guests, a hat pulled down low to hide the gunshot in his face. Junmyeon is playing quietly with Jongin in an unused corridor. Kyungsoo, Jongdae, and Yifan are chatting together at the far end of the ballroom, while Victoria sits alone, as she does most every night. None of them have seen anyone called Jimmy Kim.

When there is nowhere else to look, Baekhyun comes to the realization that there is only one place he could possibly be.

He meets up with Chanyeol in front of the elevators, both of them out of breath and on the verge of full on panic attacks.

“I can’t find him anywhere,” Baekhyun gasps out, clutching the stich in his side.

Chanyeol turns even paler, if possible. “That means he’s…”

“With Mrs. Kim,” Baekhyun finishes for him, nodding grimly.

Chanyeol clenches his fists. “Let’s hope we’re not too late.”

They climb into the elevator and head up to the third floor. Much to their chagrin, they find the door to room 3406 slightly ajar. Gulping, Baekhyun reaches for Chanyeol’s hand. Together, they push open the door and step inside.

Mr. Jimmy Kim is collapsed on the floor, huddled into the far corner between the television set and the sofa, his hands covering his face. Taeyeon Kim towers over him, seemingly larger than life in her anger. It’s practically radiating off her. She looks half a second away from tearing the poor guy limb from limb.

“Mrs. Kim!” Baekhyun shouts, and his voice distracts her momentarily.

“How dare you interfere!” she growls, whirling on the two men. “We agreed to stay out of each other’s way, but if you come between me and this little cockroach, I will be forced to disregard any peace we have made!”

“Mrs. Kim,” Chanyeol tries weakly. “There’s no reason to kill this guy. He’s not your husband.”

“He is!” she roars, and it’ll be a miracle if the people downstairs at the party don’t hear her even from all the way up on the third floor. “He feels the same as my husband! He is Youngwoon Kim!”

“He’s not!” Chanyeol insists. “Mrs. Kim, it’s been over a hundred years since you were murdered. Think about it. There’s no way he can be your husband.”

“I’m not, I’m not, I’m not,” Jimmy Kim chants.

Taeyeon Kim pauses for a moment. “He feels the same,” she says again, but they can tell her anger is starting to ebb.

“That’s because he’s the descendant of your husband,” Baekhyun explains hurriedly. “He’s got nothing to do with what happened to you!”

Mrs. Kim looks thoughtfully at the man cowering before her. “Then go,” she says shortly. “Quickly, or perhaps I’ll change my mind.”

Jimmy Kim still seems too frightened to move, so it’s up to Chanyeol and Baekhyun to haul him to his feet and drag him out into the corridor.

“We’ve got to get you out of here,” Chanyeol mutters as they half-lead half-drag the terrified man into the elevator at the end of the hall.

Jimmy shakes his head in disbelief. “What the hell is going on here?”

“You pissed off Mrs. Kim,” Baekhyun says grimly. “She hates men, especially your ancestor. He’s the one who murdered her.”

“You’re telling me that lady is dead?” Jimmy Kim demands incredulously, as though he’s not sure he believes them.

Chanyeol barks out a humorless laugh. “After what you just saw, you’re really questioning it?”

“Look, you need to get out of here and I wouldn’t come back,” Baekhyun tells him as they reach the first floor. “We can’t guarantee your safety if you do.”

Chanyeol stops and grabs his arm. “And don’t even think about telling people what you saw.”

“What’s to stop me?” Jimmy Kim challenged.

Baekhyun chuckles, and it’s rather grim. “For one, no one will believe you. For another, Mrs. Kim isn’t the only ghost here and she’s not the only one who will come after you.”

“We saved your life this time, but we can’t save you if we’re not there,” Chanyeol adds.

Jimmy Kim hesitates, then nods. “I won’t say anything. And don’t expect me to be back.” Then he turns on his heel and leaves, shouldering his way through the crowd still milling around the lobby.

Baekhyun lets out a sigh of relief and turns to his boyfriend. “I think it’s time to shut this party down.”

“I thought you’d never ask,” Chanyeol mutters.

Okay guys, so, I have to admit, I have absolutely no direction with this story. When I started it, I just knew I wanted to write a ghost story, but I have no idea where to go with this OTL I'm thinking about just finishing it up quickly? I've also been toying with the idea of doing chapters delving into the history of each of the ghosts. What do you guys think?