┌── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──┐

BAD TIMES, BIG CRIMES

└── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──┘

⋆⋆

ACT 1. — SCENE 1.

THE PARK MANSION

⋆⋆

Roseanne wouldn't be surprised if the music could be heard from miles away.

Inside was even more hectic. The mansion was filled with lavish decorations and bubbling champagne. Most of the windows poured in the night sky. Colored lights flashed everywhere on the huge crowd of dancing people and their dainty glasses.

Roseanne Park was surrounded by social media stars the internet deemed influential. With their greedy hands constantly clinging into their self-made money, this was no place for someone like her.

She made her way through the she crowd and when she stepped out of the ballroom, she was soon met a foyer filled with rows of tables packed with food and drinks that was enough to feed an army or two. her eyes swept around the room, pausing to admire the beautiful chandelier hanging above. The place was decorated in glass and gold, and fountains with ice sculptures.

The Park Mansion was known for many things, but being built by riches wasn't one of them. Still, that didn't mean there weren't being rented by the top people of society.

Her first stop was the table packed with food — because it was a table filled with food and one did not ignore the food. She adjusted the straps of her backpack and glanced around before making her way to a tray of fried chicken. She was about to pop one in her mouth when there's a shriek yell of a woman's voice calling out to her.

"Stop right there!"

It didn't take her even a second to know who it was — Chou Tzuyu, the dream dripped in gold all guys wanted to have and all girls wanted to be. She lead the perfect life of every teen, from her jets to her equally beautiful boyfriend, the scent of money around them was almost as thick as Chanel No. 5.

But most people who really knew her, know her as the narcissist, attention-seeking type. But none of those words bother Tzuyu. Not when she thought she was better than everyone else. She was Chou Tzuyu after all, devastatingly beautiful and capable of getting everything she wanted.

And in Roseanne's eyes, Tzuyu was absolutely heartless. And tonight, she was the nightmare dressed in a small, vividly crimson prada dress with a pair of Jimmy Choo's, pink-tainted lips, natural locks, and around her neck was a diamond-shaped necklace she wore daily.

Roseanne recognizes the jewelry piece because Tzuyu had made a video on TikTok about it being a custom-made necklace from her boyfriend, Jeon Jungkook. The video went viral which caused everyone to refer to Jungkook as the perfect boyfriend for weeks afterward.

"That food is for guests," Tzuyu, pointing a well-manicured finger at her. "Who are you, anyway? You don't look familiar," she said, her eyes narrowing.

Roseanne ignored her stare and placed the fried chicken in a small plate, wiping her stained fingers on the black table cloth.

"That's gross," Tzuyu sneered. "Use a napkin."

A wave of anger washed over her. "I don't see one. What do you want me to do? Wipe my fingers on my dress?"

Tzuyu's eyebrows rose. "It's definitely cheaper than the tablecloth."

She shrugged at her comment. "Eh...you're probably right. Anyway, to answer your earlier question, my name is Rosé."

"Rozay?" Tzuyu eyebrows furrowed in a deep frown.

"Yeah," Roseanne nodded. "You know...like the wine—"

"Doesn't ring a bell," she said bluntly.

"That's probably because I'm not near to your level of fame," Roseanne bit the inside of her cheek. "Five-hundred thousand subscribers."

"Wow," Tzuyu scoffed. "What is an irrelevant YouTuber like you doing here? Did you sneak in? I'm going to call security."

"This might sound surprising but I was actually invited," Roseanne retorted back.

Before Tzuyu could say anything, a deep voice called out from behind her.

She whirled around, only to see Jungkook walking towards them. Roseanne couldn't help but admire him for a second. Jeon Jungkook, leader of the vlogging squad known as the Trinity, was made of amused smirks and burning stars. Ego carried in his sharp features and a natural expression laced his lips; a lean, muscled figure formed by years of exercise under his expensive black attire. His dark locks were tousled as if some Instagram model ruffled through them; and Roseanne bet good money one probably did, because the two of them had stopped collaborating on videos a few months ago.

His brown eyes gazed to Tzuyu. "I've been looking all over for you," he said, grabbing her wrist. "We need to talk."

Tzuyu rolled her eyes and pulled her wrist from his grasp. "Don't you dare try and manhandle me!"

Roseanne watched in strained boredom. Why, of all things, would this happen to her?

Jungkook let out a loose breath of fustration. Then: he leaned forward and pointed at Tzuyu's necklace. "Why are you still wearing that? Not when—"

She gave him a wide smile. "Why would I stop wearing something that my boyfriend gave me?"

"You're unbelievable. You don't care who you hurt, do you?"

"What? Is Kookie angry?" She teasingly asked. She began to laugh hysterically causing her to tip forward.

"Are you drunk?" Jungkook asked with a frown. He grabbed her arm to stop her from falling. "Get yourself together before someone sees you."

"Who's going to see me?" Tzuyu let out a rich laugh. "Her?" Tzuyu continued, gesturing to Roseanne. "No one is going to believe her. She's a nobody."

"Wow," Roseanne muttered. "That was cruel."

Jungkook took a good glance at Roseanne. Her eyes watched as his gaze swept at her from head to toe.

It's silent as he started at the top of her heels, then slid across the smooth expanse of her legs, leaving a burning trail behind, and past her torso, lingering on the curve of her neck before landing on her face (or mouth, but Roseanne couldn't really tell). Roseanne swallowed inaudibly, and took a step back.

"Not if she takes a video of you," Jungkook reminded the drunk girl. "You don't need words when pictures speak for themselves."

As soon as their attention shifted away from Roseanne, she took another step back and waits a few seconds before quickly making her way through the main hall and up the marble staircase.

She reached for her iPhone and turned it on. A familiar picture immediately greeted her, and she quickly swiped left, opening the camera app. She didn't waste a second swiping right for the video format and clicking the red button. It was unusual that she found herself filming her videos because her friend Mark was usually the one to film them, but he didn't want to miss work, which opted her to film on her phone.

"Hello everyone. Welcome back to my channel. I'm Rosé and today's video is a ghost hunting adventure is taking place at the Park Mansion. For those of you who don't know, fourteen years ago, Hanni Park was a little girl who was murdered in her bedroom. After her death, her mother and father moved out and began renting the home to anyone wealthy enough to afford the one-hundred thousand dollars a month price-tag. Over the years, there have been accounts from people renting this place that they've seen Hanni and heard her laughing around the house."

By the time she had made it to the top floor, she took out her flashlight from her backpack and opened the first door, looked inside, and closed it. She did this a few more times, and by the time she found the room she was looking for, she let out a satisfied grin.

"This is the one," she whispered.

She headed inside, the wooden floor squeaking under her weight. The room is filled with varying shades of pink. There was a bed in one corner. A set of french doors leading to a balcony was against the back wall.

She quickly set her backpack onto the floor before rummaging through it and pulled out her K2 and her spirit box, both tools she used when she ghost hunted.

The spirit box used radio-frequency waves to allow ghosts to communicate with Roseanne. Basically, it was a robotic translator for the dead. She set it down on the bedside tables along with the flashlight. She flipped it on and the sound of radio waves twisting back and forth surrounded her.

She grabbed the K2 EMF Meter and turned it on as well. The EMF Meter had a rainbow of colors at the top which lit up. When the red lights glowed, it indicated a supernatural entity was close by. When the green bulb on the device lit up, it indicated no spiritual activity was present.

"Hanni Park, my name is Rosé. I'm not here to hurt you. I just have a few questions for you."

Roseanne picked up her flashlight and moved it around the walls to see it terribly empty.

She cleared her throat. "Hanni, there's a theory that your mother was the person who killed you? Is that true? You can tell me. She won't know."

She faced her phone towards herself. "When Hanni's father had come home that night, the only other person he saw was his wife and his daughter, but no murder weapon. He had an inkling suspicion that his wife was behind it but couldn't get anything out of her as she went into a state of minimal awareness."

She glanced at her EMF Meter and noticed the yellow bulb light up followed by the orange bulb.

"Do you see that? It's lighting up," she faced the camera to her EMF Meter. "She's here. I just know it."

She bit her bottom lip in anticipation. There was only one thing that could make her this excited. She places the EMF Meter on the table so it was standing.

"There's a party going on downstairs," Roseanne said loudly. "Does that make you angry? Does it bother you? Don't want to tell me how you feel? talk to me, Hanni."

She faltered when her ears registered something else.

It sounded distinctly like someone was running. A startled gasp escaped from her lips and she stood still. She could hear herself breathing in her dark.

She hesitated. "Was that you, Hanni? Are you trying to scare me?" She whispered.

Nothing but the squeaking of the wooden floorboard being stepped on filled her ears.

"Talk to me," Roseanne said, pointing the camera at the spirit box. "Say what you want me to hear, Hanni."

"Run—"

Roseanne swore under her breath.

"Say that again, Hanni. I didn't quite catch that."

At her words, she gripped on her spirit box a little tighter, and she tried stay silent to make sure she wouldn't miss anything.

"Run."

Three loud bangs broke the silence of the room followed by a piercing scream that echoed around her. The spirit box shared a disoriented whisper. "Run. Now."

The spirit box slipped from her grasp as she heard a scream from outside.

Roseanne swore once again before pushing the french doors open and ran out the balcony overlooking a big pool occupied by two people.

Two more screams filled the air, and she saw exactly what the two people were seeing.

Sprawled on the ground, blood flowing around their head — a body.

Her own heartbeat thundered in her ears; drowning everything else but the sound of her own uneven breathing.

She recognized the body. The vividly crimson prada dress, the black manicured fingernails, the brown hair.

She couldn't look away.

Because the body sprawled on the ground belonged to Chou Tzuyu.