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After the shopping excursion, you arrive at the Chelsea Hotel, albeit 15 minutes behind schedule. The Chelsea Hotel, nestled in the heart of Manhattan, is known for its rich history as a haven for creative souls, and exudes a blend of old-world charm and contemporary elegance. It's a stark departure from the usual places you frequent, and you feel the weight of judgmental eyes looking down on you in this unfamiliar, fancy environment.
Standing before Elias' door, your repeated knocks yield no response.
Amelia, with her notoriously dark personality, lets out an exasperated sigh. "Jamal, are you once again wasting my time?"
You retort, "Chill, baby girl. Everything's all good." She's decked out in her gothic black attire, and you pay more attention to her sexy curves than her words.
Aika interjects, "Something's wrong. Why isn't that old man answering his door?"
Your eyes momentarily linger on Amelia's captivating curves before you reply, "I'm not sure. What's your cat instinct telling you? When I spoke with him on the phone, he seemed enigmatic and anxious, even fearful. It's possible that something made him nervous, and he left."
>Try the door
>Break down the door [Roll 1d100, DC 25]
>Leave, and come back another day
>Write-in
