Chapter 1: Part of your World
There was a humming circling around the room Dipper slept in. He tried to bury his head deeper into his pillow, but the humming rocketed into singing. "I want to be where the people are! I want to see-want to see 'em dancing!" Mabel's voice destroyed Dipper's last hope of sleep. With a sigh, he pushed the thick blue duvet cover off of him and swung his feet over the side of the bed. Rubbing his bleary eyes, he caught a glimpse as Mabel disappeared into the bathroom, using a hairbrush as a micro-phone.
"What would I give if I could live out of these waters?!" Mabel sung, a little off key, before the door swung shut and muted her singing.
Dipper gave a brief thought about going back to sleep, but thought better of it when he caught sight of the time, 5:08 a.m. It was good he woke up now, any later and he would have been late to breakfast. Dipper shuffled over to his drawers and pulled out a white button-up shirt and black slacks; the required outfit for serving morning breakfast. It was hotel policy, but his uncle Ford said that white is also a bit less harsh of a color for the guest to experience in the morning and makes for a more welcoming atmosphere. Dipper guessed that made sense, but at the moment he didn't really care what he wore because all he wanted to do is crawl back into bed.
Mabel burst out of the bathroom a second after Dipper managed to put his shoes on. "Oh, Dip! You're up! Good Morning!" Mabel beamed at her brother. Dipper humphed at her as he past her to use the bathroom, but ruffled her hair. "Hey, I just fixed it the way I like it, bro-bro!" Ug, so loud. But Dipper caught her grin as he slipped into the bathroom. He loved Mabel. You kindof had to though. Mabel wasn't the unlovable type. His twin sister, while looking remarkable like him and vice versa, was his exacted opposite in every way. He was a night owl. She was a morning bird. He loved mysteries and fictional books. She loved love stories, no matter how sappy. Dipper liked space. Mabel liked invading space.
But despite all their differences, he and Mabel were inseparable. He flushed the toilet, smiling to himself as he heard Mabel throwing things around the room, looking for heaven knows what, before turning to the mirror. His messy, mousey hair fell in untamable curls. Hazel brown eyes stared back at him, light circles underneath from the nights he had to work late. He ran a hand through his hair, leaning forward, hoping, maybe, he could convince it to do something. But when his fingers got stuck and tangled, he shrugged and gave up. Bird's nest as usual then. He thought. He reached for his toothbrush and started brushing his teeth, still looking in the mirror. He notice again the averagness of who he was; brown eyes, messy hair, average nose, average smile, average fac-well almost he thought, eyes flicking up to his birth mark; the little dipper clearly taking residence on his forehead. Dipper bend down to spit, when the door flew open with a bang, causing Dipper to spew a mouth full of saliva and paste over the mirror and sink.
"M-Mabel!" Dipper coughed as his sister panicly searched the area. She ignored him, still searching, digging hair clips and- is that glitter? "Hey! Hello to Mabel!" Dipper raised his voice. She glanced up at him, "Hey, have you seen my llama head band and pin? I need it today!" Dipper rolled his eyes, exasperated. Though it wasn't really her fault, he should have locked the bathroom door. Before he could complain about Mabel bargaining in, she leaped up from behind the toilet with a triumph, "YES!" Llama headband and pin grasp firmly. She bounced past him and, since he no longer needed the bathroom, followed her. She sat on her bed, adjusted her head band and placing the pin on the right side of her shirt.
The Pine twins shared a two bed, one bath room on the servant's floor, which was under the main lobby. Lucky because Mabel's singing would probably wake up a few grumpy guests, thought Dipper. Sometimes, Dipper thought it would be nice to stay by himself, in silence, but Mabel was his sister. And anyways, it was more fun living with her than it would be living in a separate room. He would miss his sister's antics.
Something squeaked under his foot. Lifting up, it revealed itself to be one of Mabel's many stuffed animals. Mabel, hearing the noise looked sheepishly at Dipper as he kicked it to her side of the room.
"Aren't you too old for stuffed animals?" he falsely chided her. Mabel stuck her tongue out at him and threw an overly large purple hippo at him. "They are my friends and they make great weapons." Dipper dodged the hippo and grinned at his twin, despite her large collection of stuff animals. Mabel loved stuffed animals, glitter, and boy bands. It was obvious by the pasted pictures of boys hanging on the walls, bright pink curtains, coated heavily by Mabel herself, in glitter, and the horde of stuffed toys over flowing from the corner behind Mabel's bed. Dipper didn't mind the curtains so much, since when first moving in, they took away from the blandness of the room. However, he had put his foot down when Mabel had tried hanging posters of half-dressed boys on the walls. Mabel protested at first, but Dipper insisted and they agreed to only dressed boy band posters, on her side that is.
Dipper's side of the room was much calmer. Where Mabel had over flowing toys, he had an organized, small bookshelf. The only things that hung on his walls where pictures of him and Mabel and a limited edition poster of a Sherlock Holmes and the Hound of the Baskervilles. He and Mabel each had a small dresser, a tiny, boxy TV from probably the 1990's that Soos had wired up for Mabel to watch sappy dramas, and a desk on Dipper's side, littered with notes on books, conspiracy theories, and a few books of monster lore.
"Ready?" His sister asked, hopping off her bed. He nodded and together they headed through the hall to the stairs. They past Wendy's room and Dipper wondered if she was already at the front desk or still asleep. He got his answer soon, his sister pushing the hidden door behind the curtains in the lobby, revealing an oval room draped in cream curtains and polish marble floors. Rich leather couches to their left in front of a blazing fire place, with a giant, embellished tapestry of the man who found the hotels that he and his sister worked in. But he paid little attention to the stunning room. He spent so much time in the hotel, little of it really impressed him or took him by shock anymore. Plus, he had seen Wendy at the front desk, so yeah… He and his sister made crossed the lobby, Mabel skipping up to the red-haired girl.
"Sup guys!" Wendy replied. She looked bored, leaning on the front counter, grinning at the twins. Dipper felt his heart skip a little. "H-hey Wendy! Sup back at you." Dipper stupidly replied. Wendy laughed as Mabel rolled her eyes. "He still not fulling awake, are you Dip?" Dipper blushed and Mabel pulled him along with her through the lobby to the breakfast nook, waving back at Wendy, "See you later, Wendy!" Mabel called. Wendy grinned at them before turning to her coffee and magazine Dipper had failed to notice when he had seen her.
….
"Wow, Dip-n-Dot, I thought you said you were over Wendy." Mabel teased him as they placed muffins, fruit, yogurt, and various scones on the bar. "I-I am!" Dipper shot back. "I just was, was.." he trailed off, no excuse coming to save him. Mabel giggled and nudged him, "S'ok, Dip, I know she's pretty and pretty girls make your brain turn to mush". Dipper looked away, embarrassed. He wished he could say one thing without looking like a fool in front of Wendy. He wouldn't deny he used to have a crush on Wendy when she first came here at when he was 14, but as the years passed, he realized that their relationship would never transcend friends since Wendy was about 4 years older than him. It was sad at first, but he eventually accepted it. Still, there was lingering feelings for the red-head that made Dipper mind stutter. He felt his sister staring at him. He glanced her way, trying to hide his embarrassment. She suddenly gave a wide smile, revealing an orange. "'ey, 'mile ipper!" She managed. Dipper couldn't help it, busting out laughing and grabbing an orange of his own to imitate his sister. They goofed off until a higher servant came from the kitchen and scolded them for not getting the waffle mix ready.
Much later, around 7:00 or so, the first guests started filing into the breakfast nook. Even though he hated waking up in the morning, Dipper enjoyed watching the guests in the morning. He often tried to guess what they did based on what they wore to breakfast and choose to eat. CEO's often ate fruit and scones, while lesser business men indulged in waffles and coffee. He usually assumed correctly and was able to test his theories by later seeing the guest at lunch or in the lobby. Mabel flitted around the back of the breakfast bar, happily chatting up a guest and serving eggs and sausages. Dipper's job was to clean tables and take notes of any complains or complements about the guests' stay. He would ask things like, "How was your sleep? Are you enjoying the food? Is your stay to your suiting?" Most guests would nod or smile, the occasional would ask for more towels, or comment on the freshness of the fruit (ordered every three days from the local market) or the delicious scones (baked by a skilled baker from somewhere in Europe). Almost always, there was no complaints, minus the very rare a-hole. But Dipper only took notes, reassured the guest, apologized, and reported it to one of his uncles; the managers of the hotel; The Mystery.
As Dipper greeted guests and took notes, his mind wondered to when he and Mabel had first come to live here with his uncles Stan and Ford. He had just been eleven at the time. His mother desperate for help with two young children to care for; came to his uncles for help. Her husband had abandon them when he and Mabel were six, just old enough to understand he left them, just young enough not to understand why. For five years, the three of them lived on the edge of poverty and homelessness. His mother doing odd jobs here and there, managing to find run-down apartments to house them for a few months at a time. She constantly looked worn and haggard, but none more so than on that marble floor, crying and practically begging for Stan and Ford to take them in. Her and her children like a dark smudge against the gleaming marble floors.
Their uncles, unaware that their sister's husband had left her years ago, quickly picked her off the floor and welcomed them into their lives. For the first seven months, it had been amazing. Their mother and them in a warm room, with more than enough food to eat, and good work to do. He was sure his mother had done work she had been ashamed of. She never spoke of it, but Dipper could tell by the fallen look she wore after returning on certain days before The Mystery.
Christmas had been the best. It was the first year he remembered getting something. Sure, mom had tried to get him and Mabel something, a tattered book with a quarter of the pages missing or a dirty, disheveled stuff animal, but this Christmas, they received new things. Mabel actually cried at the soft, fuzzy, pink pig with glittery eyes she had received and Dipper sat in awe at the pristine and complete AND first book of Sherlock Holmes. It had been wonderful. Snuggling all in a bed together, not because they had to, but because they wanted too. Following their mother to work and learning the ropes of the hotel. Staying up late and having hot coco with Stan as he spun tales. Sneaking around with Ford as he revealed the secrets of the hotel. It was perfect. And Dipper was sure it would have been perfect forever had he not woken up that night to Mabel piercing cry. To the empty bed on his right, and the closing door on his left. His mother's soft, brown hair and slender back disappearing behind it. He sat frozen for what felt like an eternity, Mabel crying in the background, before numbly getting up and opening the door to an empty hall way. He didn't know what he expected; that his mom would be there smiling and joking like she as wont to do in hard times. It was on that overly warm summer night that a second person walked out of their lives. It was on that night Dipper knew the raw hurt of abandonment for real. It wasn't the same as when his father left. That hurt. But, this… this was betrayal. He knew because seconds before that door closed, he saw his mother eye, vacant and unfeeling, staring back at him. Emotionless and uncaring for the two children, HER two children, as she disappeared into that sweltering night.
She never came back. She left no note. Dipper knew it must have been harder for Mabel, because she awoke to their mother's packing. She didn't say anything. Just watch. Until their mother stood and look her way. That's when she asked and when no reply came, when the woman simply turned away from Mabel. Mabel knew her answer and had let out the most wounded sound Dipper had ever heard. The piercing cry that still haunted his dreams.
Their Uncles claimed them after that. They treated them like their own, got them therapy, loved them. Eventually, the twins calmed, even if they were cold on the inside. It took a long time, but eventually, eventually, he and Mabel picked each other up and turned away from that night they had been continuously living in for months. Eventually they smiled and laughed again. Eventually they began to act like normal, 13-year-old children to the great relief of Stan and Ford.
Even so, even though it has been 4 years since, some nights Dipper feels Mabel crawl into his bed, on nights that are too warm, on nights that burn to close: On those nights, he dreams of an empty eye and closing doors.