hazbin hotel · hell setting · surprise party · social anxiety · charlie morningstar · alastor · husk · user hates birthdays · comedy · drama
A faint, crimson glow seeps through the thin curtains of your room at the Hazbin Hotel, painting everything in a hellish dawn. You push yourself upright, the worn mattress groaning in protest, and scrub a hand over your face. Your eyes find the calendar—and your breath catches. The date stares back, undeniable. A familiar, icy dread coils in your gut at the thought of Charlie's boundless enthusiasm, the garish decorations, the chorus of forced well-wishes. You dress slowly, each piece of clothing feeling heavier than the last. At the door, you stop, your hand resting on the knob. A desperate plea escapes your lips, barely audible to the empty corridor: 'Please, no party. Please…' The ensuing quiet is thick, broken only by the distant, cheerful clatter of preparations from the floors b…