Right now, Zeke’s taking a break from today’s chores to lay back on a beat-up lounge chair to watch the clouds float idly by. The pool laps in front of him, and Zeke just watches the clouds drift idly by. He takes a nice, deep breath; despite it being summer, the weather is awfully mild up here in the mountains. Okay. It’s a little muggy, but at least that’s familiar.

“You know, Mr. Valencia,” Lewis huffs from a couple feet away, “this could get done a lot faster if you wanted to lend me a hand..?”

“Mmm,” Zeke hums, pretending to mull it over in his head, “you know, Lewis. I would love to. But, unfortunately, it looks like I just started my smoke break. I… Do get a smoke break, right?”

There’s silence from the other side of the patio for a moment, before he hears the ginger respond, “yes. Mr. Wright’s policy is that any smoker is allowed a ten minute paid break every two hours.”

“Woah, woah, woah. Hold on a minute,” Zeke’s body shoots upright as he peers over towards Lewis, “paid?”

Currently, the ginger is standing at the side of the pool. His sleeves are rolled to his forearm, and he holds a long pole to skim the surface of the water. It appears as though Lewis clenches his jaw as his light green eyes focus down at his work, “yes… Paid.”

“Ohohoh. Lung cancer never sounded so good,” Zeke responds, relaxing himself back down into the chair. Just as he does so, Mr. Wright walks up from behind them. He stops to stand next to his sitting new-hire and smirks, “enjoying the view?” He asks, gesturing towards the rest of the patio.

Zeke’s eyes follow. Sitting at the ground level of the Hotel, most of the view consists of guests’ balconies. Between the two wings of the Hotel sits a huge opening to the bright sky and soft mountain range. Of course, atop the patio is a big sparkly pool and a tall ginger tending to it. Okay, sure, the exterior walls are caked in some sort of green moss and most of the patio furniture is busted… But it’s not a bad view.

The teen shrugs, “yeah. Guess I can’t complain.”

Mr. Wright’s smirk grows as he peers down at his new-hire for a moment. He pulls up his pants by the belt buckle as he saunters further down the patio towards his assistant manager, “hey, Lewis! If managing doesn’t work out, you’d make for a reeeal nice pool boy!”

Lewis shoots the man a look, and his pale cheeks quickly turn a few shades of pink darker, “Andrei..!”

“What?” The old man grins, “I’m just joking with ya, boy. Lighten up a little,” he says as he puts a hand on Lewis’ shoulder. Zeke just watches, but he doesn’t feel great about it; the way Mr. Wright treats Lewis continues to leave a bad taste in Zeke’s mouth. Or… Maybe that’s the cigarette he works on.

“What do you need, Mr. Wright?” Lewis hums.

The older man looks offended, “what? I can’t just check in on my understudy and his favorite new employee?”

Zeke raises an eyebrow at that from afar. Lewis drops his shoulders, turning his whole body towards his boss, “with all due respect, sir… Usually it’s an emergency if you decide to leave your office. So, please. What can I do for you?”

“Careful with that anger, boy,” Mr. Wright hums, folding his arms. He looks off past the ginger towards the subtle mountains, “yeah. I need a favor from you.”

“Hmph,” Lewis huffs as he returns to skimming up dead leaves and other miscellaneous floaters.

Mr. Wright ignores his assistant’s smugness. Instead, he gestures for Zeke to come closer with a finger. Once the teenager gets up from his seat and meanders on over to the other two men, Mr. Wright continues, “I’m going to send you two into the Club today.”

Lewis’ eyes brighten, “really? What for?”

“Wait. We have a club?” Zeke pipes up.

“Yeuuup. The old Club of Hearts. There’s this huge metal plaque of the logo right inside the double doors. Worth a lot of money. I want you two to take it off the wall for me,” Mr. Wright commands as he crosses his arms. Then, in a lower voice, he says, “I’m tired of knowing it’s down there.”

“Isn’t this more of a… Lauren task, sir?” Lewis asks genuinely.

Mr. Wright shrugs, “he’s off doing work elsewhere on the Resort. I’ve got some tools inside the Club already… I’ve even taken the effort to unlock the doors for ya.”

“I see… Well. That’s no problem. We’ll get that done real fast before I have to review Housekeeping with Rosa at four,” Lewis says, checking the watch on his wrist. From the look on his face, he seems a bit worried about the time.

“Great,” Mr. Wright claps his hands together, “bring it on up to my office when you’re done, boys. And - uh,” he leans in towards Lewis, “knock, would ya? Angeline might be visiting today.”

“Oh. Ah - yes, sir.”

“Alright then,” the boss says loudly as he begins his retreat back into the Hotel, “and hustle, would ya? I don’t got all day.”

Lewis’ nose wrinkles up, “yes, sir.” he says. After Mr. Wright is out of earshot, Lewis pulls the skimmer out of the water, “well, I suppose I get to show you the Club today.”

“Again. Didn’t even know we have a club,” Zeke reiterates.

“Ah, well. We did have a club. It’s defunct now,” Lewis hums as he leads the brunette across the patio towards the Hotel.

“Uh huh,” Zeke starts, “just like the rest of the Resort.”

Lewis stops to hook the skimmer back up to the exterior wall, “that’s… Well. Factually, that’s accurate,” he says before holding the large glass door open for his assistant.

As they enter the ground level of the Hotel, the cold air hits Zeke’s skin. Lewis makes a bee-line straight ahead, but Zeke’s eyes linger on the rest of the ground floor’s lobby. On the far side, there’s the elevator access; just in front of the rotunda is a sleek bar area cut from raw stone. He’s never seen anyone sit there, but the hanging lights over the smooth stone bartop stay illuminated.

The two cross the pink shag carpet towards two huge wooden double doors just to the side of the bar. The handles resemble those from the main entrance: two pieces of steel, curved to make the shape of a heart. What’s up with this place and its damn heart imagery?

Just like the rest of the Hotel, these doors gave little to no hint of life behind them. Lewis approaches the doors with a bit of pep to his step, “I gotta say. I’m sort of excited to be going into the Club today, despite it not being on my schedule,” the ginger says as he places a firm hand on the door, “Mr. Wright never lets us in here.”

“Ohhh,” Zeke hums, approaching the doors with some skepticism, “forbidden area.”

Lewis stands to the side as he pushes the heavy door inward, “after you then, Mr. Valencia.”

The brunette peers up at Lewis with his big brown eyes for just a moment before he begins to venture into the dimly lit room on the other side. Upon entering, his round nose stiffens up with the incredibly pungent smell of mold and dust.

The big ominous doors first lead into a small lobby of sorts; dark purple, semi-sparkly curtains hang from the walls. However, what catches Zeke’s immediate attention is large metal lettering with the Club’s name: the Club of Hearts. Above the metal plating of the name sits an even broader metal logo. It’s the symbol for the card suit clubs, with hearts instead of circles. It sort of resembles a three-leaf clover.

Lewis follows behind the brunette and allows the heavy door to close behind him. Once the door is closed, the room appears significantly darker. Zeke trails off to the side, where the meat of the Club resides, “woah,” he hums gently as his eyes begin to adjust to the dim, romantic lighting. The Club is way bigger than he anticipated.

It’s divided into two levels; the upper level is fitted with that small entryway, as well as another bar cut out from stone. The lower level, which is much more vast, homes plenty of booths and tables for people to sit. There’s decent space to dance in front of a snazzy looking stage; the same dark purple semi-sparkly curtains frame the spotlight.

Metal and glass wall decor dress up the walls, dusty tea candle glasses sit on the tables, and the back of the bar still shelves a variety of alcohol glasses and a few bottles of aged liquor. While it looks dreamy in here, some of the wow-factor is lost, as the entire Club is storing several dozen worse-for-wear boxes and bins. Some are open, and some are sealed tight with tape.

“If only I were allowed in here more, I’d give this place the proper cleaning it deserves,” Lewis hums with a light, almost sad smile. Zeke smirks at that, because his new boss really has a thing for cleaning, it seems. Like come on… In the month that Zeke’s been employed here, they’ve already deep cleaned the lobby three times. Who knows how hard Lewis would go to clean up the years of filth this single room has procured.

Zeke feels the tug to investigate deeper into the Club; what else is behind the bar? Is there anything hiding behind the stage’s shimmery curtain? Most importantly… What secrets do all these scattered papers and boxes contain?

Lewis, on the other hand, wants to get right down to business. He hums as he investigates the big metal structure that greeted them upon their entrance. From the look on his face, he’s worried about how this is going to work. Zeke takes the opportunity to peek behind the bar, “I’m surprised Mr. Wright hasn’t absolutely demolished the liquor bottles back here,” he grumbles out loud.

“Ahah!” Lewis laughs quickly, however he catches himself by firmly placing a freckled palm over his mouth. That must have caught him pretty far off guard.

“Ahhh,” Zeke grins wildly at that response, “so you do have a sense of humor,” he says as he leans over the bar to investigate the stacks of dusty old glasses that hide below.

“Well, sure,” Lewis’ cheeks flush ever so gently as he composes himself, “I am human after all.”

Zeke just smirks as he delivers a snarky, “you sure?”

“Ah… I have a debilitatingly human heart. That much I know.”

The brunette just looks over at his boss. He wants to pry more, but isn’t sure if that’s appropriate; especially considering the huge deal he, himself, had made regarding invasive questions on his first day. Instead, Zeke changes the subject as he wanders down the handful of steps to the lower level of the Club, “well then, mister human heart. Tell me about this so-called Club of Hearts.”

“Ah,” Lewis hums, looking over his shoulder to peer down at his assistant who’s meandering over to a booth with papers strewn across its table top, “what do you want to know?”

“I dunno,” Zeke shrugs, turning a few papers to inspect them. Nothing too interesting: bills, maintenance notes, receipts… The only thing of any interest is that these are dated back to the early two-thousands. The brunette thinks to ask, “why’d it shut down?”

“Well, from my understanding, it wasn’t bringing in as much foot traffic anymore. Mr. Wright told me that people started renting rooms for just one night instead of spending weekends or extended periods of time here at the Hotel. That really killed a lot of the amenities here.”

“People would stay here for, like, a week? Or what?”

“Oh, yeah,” Lewis beams, “Zeke, I don’t believe you understand just how prevalent the Hotel & Resort once was before our time.”

“Our time? How old are you?” The teen asks.

For a moment, there’s silence from the manager before he responds, “well, I’m only twenty-three. But… Despite our age difference, the Hotel was very popular long before the two of us were kicking around here.”

Zeke kind of furrows his brow at that, because for some reason, he thought Lewis was a bit older, but maybe that’s just due to his managerial presence. Additionally, Zeke wasn’t kicking around the town of Heart Hollow while he was growing up.

The brunette decides to jump right back into their previous line of thought, “so… When’d the Club close down?”

“Oh, I don’t know. Sometime in the late nineties, I think,” Lewis retorts, clinking around in the small, fabric tool chest that Mr. Wright had left for them by the entry.

“Yeah, that tracks,” the brunette hums gently. These old budgeting papers show that the Resort’s money kept getting tighter and tighter. Just glancing over these reports, this entire place should have shut down decades ago. What’s keeping it open?

“Ah, Zeke? I hate to cut off your curiosity,” Lewis pipes up from the small entrance lobby to the Club, “however, I’d like for us to try and stay on schedule today.”

Lewis doesn’t see it, but Zeke rolls his eyes at his boss’ insistent time keeping. He sets down some of those old papers and eyes the boxes that are scattered across the floor as he meanders towards the Club’s entrance. To the side of the staircase that ascends to the upper level, Zeke’s eyes latch onto a clear plastic storage container hidden under a booth. He leans down, sets it atop the table, and opens up the dusty lid with a finger, “hold on.”

Zeke sets the lid aside and digs into the storage container. He finds more laser printed receipts, faded notes, and loose papers. However, under all of that, is this fat looking photo album that initially caught his eye. He pulls it from the wreckage of the bin and pries the thing open; the glossy plastic picture protectors stick to one another tightly. His eyes go wide with curiosity, “gold mine,” he says.

The beginning of the photo album showcases old black and white photographs. Some depict the grounds being broken for construction; people celebrate by popping champagne bottles and digging shovels into the dirt below. The only person that Zeke recognizes is a much younger looking Wallace Heartwood. As compared to the mild expression he holds in the lobby portrait, he appears much happier here.

The following black and white photos show the construction of the Resort. Foundation is laid, walls are raised, roofing is placed, and within the turn of a few pages, the mountain now supports a Hotel jutting from its side. He also witnesses as the other buildings come to life; he recognizes Heartwood Hall, although it looks a bit different today. Today, the other two structures must have been engulfed by the forest around them, because he doesn't remember seeing them from the Resort’s access road.

Lewis decides to reiterate, “could I get some help, please?”

“Just a sec,” Zeke states, which causes his boss to sigh.

The next few pages show the Hotel upon start-up, it seems. The Hotel looked fresh and clean, with an extremely modern edge for the time. What’s fascinating to Zeke, is that the Hotel used to be decked out in baby pinks, light purples, and calming creams; today, it drowns in a dramatic sea of bright pinks and moody purples. Even the walls were brought to life by wooden art pieces, paintings of the mountains, and collections of photographs. Actually, he recalls seeing some of these gathering dust during his visit to Heartwood Hall. It appears that back then, the Lobby didn’t have the large glass map and the huge portrait of Wallace to the sides of the receptionist desk.

“Zeke. A hand, please,” Lewis asks again, although his tone is not as cordial this time.

“Dude. Did the entire Hotel get a remodel at some point, or what?” Zeke asks, completely ignoring his boss’ plea. This inquiry clearly catches Lewis’ attention, because Zeke watches as he pokes his ginger head around the corner. Quickly, he drops his tools back into the bag and makes his way down the stairs to gander at the photo album. Zeke steps aside to make some room for his nosy boss.

“Oh my goodness,” Lewis states as he takes hold of the photo album to get a better look at the small prints within. Zeke glances up towards his boss and watches as his green eyes light up. Both wear a smile as they flip through the album gently, “I’ve heard that the Resort got a makeover when Mr. Wright took over, but… Wow. I’ve never seen original photos like this. This is just phenomenal.”

“I mean, just look at how packed the Hotel is,” Lewis says, and he’s right; in these photos, every communal area is filled with guests enjoying the Resort’s bountiful amenities. Lewis says hopelessly, “oh, what I wouldn’t do to live through this place’s hey-day.”

A photo stands out to Zeke, so he puts a finger atop the plastic encasing, “okay, look at this,” he says. The photograph shows a black-haired woman behind the front reception desk; her smiles beams with pride as she talks with two guests. Zeke continues, “look how happy she is. Now, compare that to the awful glare Kara gives people.”

This makes the ginger huff a laugh through his nose. He doesn’t make a remark back, although his face looks as if he had plenty to say on the matter. The two continue plucking through the album with intrigue. There are pictures that show the Club before its remodel. Back then, it was decked out in golds and reds. It feels completely different to the deep, sultry purples and blacks that the current Club wears.

“The Club used to be called The King of Hearts,” Lewis says, eyeing the pictures, “apparently, Wallace used to hang out in his Club during his free time. Making connections, enjoying the company of guests and staff alike.”

Zeke wants to make a comment about Wallace’s apparent disappearance, but decides that the mood isn’t quite right. On the next page, there is a much larger print. Two people stand side by side: Wallace Heartwood and an employee. Actually… Maybe it’s the same black-haired woman from that previous photograph?

“There he is,” Lewis hums gently. Wallace has certainly aged just a bit, but he’s still got that real prideful smile on.

The young woman in the photograph wears a pink blouse with an ankle length brown skirt. A dated set of glasses sit atop her face as she smiles earnestly. Next to her, Wallace wraps an arm around her closely. She’s short and looks young enough to be his daughter, but they look absolutely nothing alike. Zeke’s stomach churns as he recalls the man’s accusation of human trafficking.

That’s just a rumor, he tells himself.

Lewis continues in a low voice, “this is Hana Yang. She used to work for both Wallace and Mr. Wright. She’s a legend around here.”

“Yeah?” Zeke says, looking back up towards his boss.

“Well… To me, at least,” he smiles bashfully, meeting his assistant’s gaze, “I am very fond of the history here, after all.”

They flip through a few more pages, watching as the Hotel and its staff change throughout the seasons. Guests come and go, but Zeke is starting to memorize the staff’s aging faces. A new face pops up; this time, it’s another man side-by-side with a graying Wallace.

“Oh my goodness. Zeke, that’s Andrei,” Lewis beams with surprise, pointing to the new face.

“Wait. That’s Mr. Wright?”

“Yes!” Lewis says, his eyes wide with his own bewilderment. In the photograph, both Wallace and Mr. Wright wear big grins on their faces, the two of them just about as happy as they could be. Mr. Wright looks much younger and leaner; his time period appropriate mullet isn’t graying, and atop his upper lip is a brilliant mustache. It seems that he’s always radiated a perverted energy.

“Dude,” Zeke states, “we gotta show this to him.”

“Absolutely not,” Lewis pipes up, switching back to his managerial voice, “these are his belongings. Ah, frankly, we shouldn’t even be looking through them. Maybe we should stop.”

“Too bad he just… Left it unattended down here,” Zeke responds with a mischievous grin. Lewis gives him a disappointed look, but his eyes fall back down towards the album; clearly, the assistant manager is just as interested in snooping as his ill-behaved subordinate. They keep turning the pages, and Mr. Wright’s face shows up more and more frequently. Eventually, the man’s dated patterned dress-shirts turn to pink-shirts in due time. Over time… Wallace’s face no longer appears in photographs.

Were these taken after his disappearance?

Through the photographs, they watch as the Hotel cosmetically turns into the moody, sultry mess that it is. The hardwood floors are replaced by plush pink carpet. The airy pink walls are slathered in dark purple paint. Even the conversation pit turns from a sweet purple to a dark raspberry. Instead of wooden art pieces and watercolored landscapes of the mountains hanging on the walls, they’re covered in these swanky slabs of colored glass.

Good god. What the hell did Mr. Wright do?

He infected the Hotel with that perverted energy of his.

“Mr. Wright says that he hired some big artist to do the redesign,” Lewis adds softly, “apparently they kept themselves completely anonymous.”

Finally, the grounds open back up, and guests begin to make their way back into the Hotel & Resort. Once again, people enjoy the common spaces as they mingle with other guests. Everyone pictured is dressed to the nines, enjoying their luxurious getaway now that the dark, intimate atmosphere has been set. They come across a lot more pictures of the staff smiling. Some of them are either shaking Mr. Wright’s hand, or nestled under his arm. 

At the bottom of a page, there's this photo of… Oh, what was her name? Hana Yang? Yes, Hana and a young couple: a red haired woman and her curly-haired husband. Zeke notices Lewis stays on this page a bit longer than the other ones. Maybe he has something to say, but he’s completely silent. Zeke peers up towards the guy; he’s got this look on his face that Zeke can’t quite pinpoint. He must feel his assistant’s eyes on him, because his smile grows real embarrassed as he says, “sorry. It’s… Ah. These are my parents.”

“Oh. Dude. Your parents used to go here?”

“Everyone in town did back then. Now it’s… Well. Sort of an unspoken no-no,” he smiles a sheepish smile.

Zeke chortles at his boss’ phrasing. Eventually, he speaks up as Lewis continues to flip through the pages, “so what changed? Why did people stop visiting?”

“Well… There’s a long list of reasons for that,” Lewis says gingerly. Zeke’s eyes press him for more details, so he continues, “honeymoon resorts were losing popularity here in the Poconos. People were having kids and wanted a more… Well, a more family friendly place to vacation,” he says with a smile, “as for the local culture… Ah, I guess some people were wary about the Wrights purchasing the Resort.”

Zeke butts in, “Rosa told me that Wallace was caught doing some really messed up human trafficking shit.”

“Rosa said that?” Lewis raises a thin eyebrow. His assistant nods his head. The ginger bobs his head side-to-side, “that’s more of a rumor than anything else. From what I understand, there were a lot of different rumors in town about him.”

“Was his disappearance a rumor, too?”

Lewis makes eye contact with Zeke for a moment before his light green eyes dart down to the book they snoop through, “no. He really just vanished.”

“Oh,” Zeke hums. He wants to pry about the man’s supposed death; oh, and the heavy knocking that guests apparently hear in the dead of night. He won’t lie, that one keeps him up some nights. Instead, he decides to just drop it.

“Yeah,” Lewis adds to his assistant’s silence, “hurtful rumors would make anybody want to just… Up and leave.”

“Heh,” Zeke laughs half-heartedly, “yeah.”

There’s a semi-uncomfortable silence as the two finish off the photo album. The pictures grow more sparse between time frames. The last photo in the book is of Ms. Hana Yang sitting at the bar of the new and improved Club of Hearts. It looks candid, as her face appears rather melancholy. After that, the latter quarter of the album consists of just blank plastic protectors for photos that never took shape.

Zeke looks up from the album and around the room he stands in. The air is stagnant as he envisions the earlier photos of the Club at max capacity. Now, it sits empty and lonely; desperate to be loved and cherished once again.

Lewis clears his throat as he carefully shuts the photo book, and his face is hard to read. He looks down at Zeke, “we should probably get back to dismantling this thing then, huh?” He gestures over to the metal plaque that still hangs atop the wall to serve its decorative function after all these years.

Zeke kind of pouts his lip, “yeah. I guess,” he hums, sliding the album off the table. He puts the book back to rest in its plastic tomb and closes the lid to preserve it the best that he can. Lewis is already halfway up the staircase, clearly eager to move on with their chores. Normally, Zeke would be cracking jokes or putting on his teenage moodiness, but he just kind of doesn’t feel like doing that right now.

Instead, he just follows his boss’ lead.

❧

After dismantling the big metal logo, Zeke and Lewis are careful as they bring it up to Mr. Wright’s office; the edges are sharp after all. The two men struggle a bit with the thing, although Lewis handles the majority of the weight. Up the one functional elevator they go, and Zeke takes a minute to rest his arms. Once they arrive at the boss’ stoop, they set it down so that Lewis may knock.

They hear a disgruntled, “come in,” from the other side.

Even though Mr. Wright gave them the go-ahead, Lewis is cautious as he opens the door, “hi. We got that sign dismantled.”

Zeke peers through the little bit of space between the door frame and Lewis’ person, and he notices Angeline sitting atop Mr. Wright’s desk. The big boss man responds, “finally. What took you so long? I pay Ang by the hour, you know.”

“Gross,” Zeke says, despite not being part of this conversation.

“R - right,” Lewis stumbles, “sorry about that.”

“Mmm,” he hums, and Zeke can hear his oversized, worn-in leather chair squeak as he leans back in his seat, “bring it in then.”

“Of course,” Lewis says as he turns toward the hall and nods towards the sign for some help, “Zeke?”

They bring it into Mr. Wright’s office; the big man gestures over towards the couch, so they learn it against the velvet. Lewis stands up right, “is that all, sir?”

Zeke peers over towards Mr. Wright and Angeline; she’s got this big bound notebook in her lap, and he’s got this exhausted look in his eyes as he stares at the hunk of metal they just brought into his office. Mr. Wright simply says, “yeah.”

“Hey,” Zeke says, and by the way everybody in the room freezes, he knows he stepped out of line by trying to speak. Well, he already started… Might as well ask that question he wanted to ask, “who redesigned this place? In the eighties.”

Mr. Wright just gives him a look that can only be described as confused disgust; actually, he’s seen Kara make that exact face before. The old man just says, “boy, what are you goin’ on about?”

“Well,” Zeke looks up towards his very uncomfortable looking manager, “Lewis told me that nobody knows who did the redesign. I thought maybe you’d know, since you owned the place back then.”

“And why the hell do you care?”

The teenager shrugs, “I guess I wanna know why they chose purple and pink. It’s tacky.”

Mr. Wright lets out a big huff of air out of his nose, and the corners of his unshaved lips grin upwards. It quickly turns into a few audible laughs, but Zeke’s not sure what’s so funny. The boss man shakes his head and looks up towards Lewis with that grin still on his face, “get your runt outta here.”

Lewis’ eyes go wide as he panics for a moment; he peers down towards Zeke, and up towards Mr. Wright, and then back down towards Zeke. He gestures for the door, and Zeke just obliges, because he’s not so sure that he wants to be in that grumpy old man’s company anymore, anyways. Lewis just hums, “we’ll be off then, sir.”

As Lewis pulls the door closed behind him, Zeke hears Mr. Wright laugh out loud, “tacky.”