Hotel Blue Moon

Chapter 3: Whiskey vs. Champagne

Kim Sin Wol stood in the dimly lit hallway of Hotel Blue Moon, the cool blue glow from the walls casting long shadows around him. The flicker of a nearby neon sign reflected in his whiskey tumbler as he sipped the amber liquid, savoring the slow burn as it slid down his throat. He stared at the hotel's electric blue décor, the heavy bass of a rock guitar riff echoing faintly from the performance hall below. This was his place, his domain—dark, mysterious, with an edge that mirrored the turmoil in his soul. But as he stood there, his thoughts drifted back to another hotel, one that no longer existed in this world.

Hotel Del Luna.

The memory of it struck him like the chords of Moonlight Sonata, soft yet cutting, each note laced with nostalgia. He could still picture the golden chandeliers, their warm light casting a rich glow over the grand staircase. Everything about Hotel Del Luna was extravagant, dripping with a kind of old-world charm that felt almost too perfect, like a gilded cage. The air had always been thick with elegance—velvet drapes, gilded furniture, and an overwhelming sense of history in every room. The hotel had felt like a living being, one that thrived on the refinement of its guests and the sophistication of its events.

But what stood out most in his memories wasn't the hotel itself, but the woman who had ruled it—Jang Man Wol.

Man Wol had been like champagne, he thought, effervescent, sophisticated, and with a bitterness that lingered long after the first taste. She was a mentor, a guide through the twisted paths of his own regrets and the unforgiving nature of the afterlife. Under her guidance, he had learned more about his own guilt, his own need for redemption, than he ever could have on his own. She was the embodiment of Hotel Del Luna—extravagant, untouchable, and forever shrouded in an aura of tragic beauty.

But now, here he was, standing in his own creation, one that couldn't have been more different.

Hotel Blue Moon.

Where Hotel Del Luna had been drenched in golds and yellows, designed to awe and overwhelm, Hotel Blue Moon was draped in cool blues and silvers, like the ocean at night. Its charm wasn't in ostentation but in the mystery it evoked—the dark corners, the hidden nooks, the flickering lights that seemed to guide or deceive, depending on your perspective. The air here thrummed with an undercurrent of rebellion, a defiance against the traditional that Sin Wol himself embodied. There were no grand ballets or orchestras here; instead, the hotel hosted electrifying rock concerts, the kind that left your ears ringing and your heart pounding long after the last note had faded. The guests here didn't come for the elegance; they came for the raw, unfiltered experience—the thrill of something unknown, something that could change on a whim.

Sin Wol took another sip of his whiskey, the taste rich and smoky. Whiskey. That was what Hotel Blue Moon was. Complex, intense, with a burn that settled deep into your bones. It was not for the faint of heart, much like himself. He'd built this place as a reflection of who he had become—a man no longer confined by the past, no longer trying to live up to the standards set by others. Here, he was free to be as rough around the edges as he liked, to indulge in the darker aspects of his personality without judgment.

Kim Sin Wol sat in the dim glow of his office, the thick velvet curtains drawn tight to block out the early morning sun. The guest list lay spread across his desk, every name meticulously checked, each soul judged on their readiness to cross the tunnel to the afterlife. He had been at it for hours, yet his mind refused to tire, instead buzzing with a strange, uneasy energy.

He leaned back in his chair, closing his eyes for what he thought would be a brief moment of rest. But as soon as he did, memories he had buried deep began to claw their way back to the surface.

Flash. A sun-drenched day, the kind where time seemed to slow. Luna's laughter filled the air, light and carefree. They walked side by side through a garden, her presence so close, almost tangible, and yet it felt like she was a world away. There had been a time when that sound had been his world, his everything, but now it only served as a cruel reminder of what he had lost.