Chapter Text
“You’re inspiring, really. And when you think about it, modern entertainment actually started with radio,” I rambled. First, I just need to get through the praise to butter him up and then I can make my pitch.
“Ah,” Alastor absentmindedly replied. Clearly only half paying attention.
“Am I boring you with my compliments?”
“Perhaps.”
I cleared my throat, ok, he’s not one for flattery. I just need to skip to the business proposal, “well, look, I’ll just get to the point. We’ve been close for a few years now, right? I mean, people know us, they love us. And with new overlords popping up every day. And before you hit me with a,” I sucked in a breath and put on my best Alastor expression, ‘Well, you’re pretty new yourself,’ I know, okay, but I’m much more forward-thinking, so it’s in your best interest to hear me out.”
Al’s smile softened and he let out a soft chuckle, “I’m listening, pal. Barkeep, another whiskey.”
Good, he’s laughing. That means he’s receptive. My odds of success have definitely gone up. “So, I’ve been thinking, Alastor, with your incredible power and my massive influence, we would be unstoppable. Radio and video. Me and you — we could rule Hell together, as partners.”
Alastor began to chuckle softly. It grew louder and louder until it abruptly stopped. “Oh, that’s… Oh, you’re serious?” He laughed again. “Come now, Vox. I knew you could be pathetic at times, but I didn’t realize you were so weak.”
I forced a laugh, “what?”
“Oh fuck.” He laughed even louder. “You need me to join your team. And here I thought you might actually be approaching my level, but asking for assistance? A partnership? I am quite disappointed in you.”
“I… I just thought, you know, since we were friends—.”
“Friends?! There are no friends in Hell, Vincent. I thought that was something you understood. How embarrassing.”
Did he just reject me? Did he just reject my proposal? How? Why? I did everything right. I followed the script exactly. Sure, I’m not proud of having to have used a pity play. I had respected him too much to have used that on him. Maybe he isn’t the person I thought he was.
“You know what, fuck you,” I said getting up.
“Aw, did I hurt your little feelings?”
“Shut it, Alastor,” I made my way towards the door, but 2 shadowy tentacles blocked my path. So that’s how it’s going to be. You want to fight? Let’s fight.
2 hours later in another bar…
“Barkeep, another vodka,” I yelled, definitely a lot louder than I had initially intended. When the glass landed in front of me I immediately shot it back without a moment's hesitation.
“Rough night, a honeyed whiskey voice asked.
I looked over in the direction of the voice, struggling to see through the cracks on my screen at the stranger. There stood a tall, slender man with violet fox eyes and perfectly swept back blonde hair. He was extremely handsome and far too human looking to be a sinner.
“What’s it to you?”
The stranger pulled out the chair next to me and rested his head on his palm as he studied me, “call it curiosity. It’s not every day you meet someone with a tv for a head, much less one in your condition. Now I’m not an expert but I’ve spent a fair share of time at bars, and I’ve noticed that when someone so as yourself is shooting back vodka of all things like water with an expression like your own, it usually means they are drinking to forget.”
I scoffed, “so what if I am?”
He shrugged, “well, I’d say, based on your blood shot eyes, slurred speech, and the fact you’re barely conscious, you’re several drinks in and haven’t seem to have forgotten the reason you started drinking in the first place. Barkeep, a water please for my friend.”
“Friend? There are no friends in Hell,” I retorted as the bartender placed the glass of water in front me.
The stranger hummed, “I have to disagree with you on that, please drink your water. Let me guess, you just got dumped.”
“No, not exactly.”
“So, you were rejected.” I flinched and he nodded sympathetically. Disgusting. “You know, drinking isn’t going to make you feel any better.”
“Speaking from experience,” I asked, chugging the glass of water.
“No, I’m more of a wine drinker, myself and not that frequently either.”
“What are you doing in a bar then?”
“People watching.”
I rolled my eyes, “oh, so you’re one of those?”
The stranger raised an eyebrow, “one of those?”
I laughed, “a voyeur.”
The man paused and seemed to contemplate what I’d said, “I guess you could say that. What about you? Are you a voyeur? No, you wouldn’t be, you were an entertainer in life, weren’t you? That’s why you have a television for a head.”
“Yes and no, I was a performer but that’s not why I have a tv for a head.”
“Ah, it has to do with your death. I’ll change the subject, so, you were an entertainer, what did you do?”
“Why are you asking me so many questions?”
“Because I want to get to know you. I want to be friends, I know you don’t believe in friends and based on the way you bit out ‘there are no friends in Hell’ I’m sure you recently had that phrase uttered to you. I, however, do believe in friends and I would like to be your friend if you would let me. How about this, we drink and we talk. You tell me about yourself and your past. You can continue to try to drink and forget today, and in the end, I’ll make sure you make it home safely.”
I studied the stranger carefully. He seemed to be genuine, though quite a bit naive. What harm could one night do? “Fine, I started out my career as a weather boy.”