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kathyprior4200 · 4 years

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HAZBINUVA BOSS

A meeting was in progress at the Hazbin Hotel. Five demons were seated around a large wooden rectangular table near where the bar was. The window and door that Sir Pentious’ machine had blown up were now repaired thanks to Alastor. (The door now had an elaborate skull with antlers hanging above the door frame.) The group sat in high-backed leather chairs with spikes on the rims. A pentagram was in the center of the table, drawn in white. Charlie, the blonde haired princess was standing up and writing words down on a whiteboard. Vaggie sat in a chair close by, glaring at everyone else with her gray hands clasped together on the table. Angel had his long legs propped up on the table off to the right. Alastor sat in-between Husk and Niffty. Husk moved further away from them and then stopped when Angel inched closer with his chair. In front of everyone were bowls of fresh Jambalaya, almost finished.

“Thank you so much for making your meal for us,” Charlie said with a smile, turning from the board.

“Anytime, dear!” Alastor replied. “I had used up a lot of my magic and I figured all of us would be hungry. Figured it’d be a great way to celebrate the start of your Haz…Happy Hotel!”

“Wow Al!” Angel exclaimed. “That was some delicious grub!”

Everyone nodded and hummed in agreement. Even Vaggie had to admit it was delicious.

“Thank you,” Alastor said with a smile. “It’s my mother’s special recipe…I even put in gunpowder for an explosive effect!” He laughed. “That was what almost killed her. She had too much Southern Comfort and decided to pour gunpowder while the jambalaya was in the pan…it blew up in her face! I tried it and the kick was straight outta Hell!”

“Oh my,” Niffty said with a brief gasp. “You really should be more careful next time. It could leave a big mess.”

“I try my hardest, dear,” he said to Niffty, which caused the small cyclops demon to blush.

Alastor continued. “Did you know that hunters in Louisiana would often add game meat to their dishes? Deer, duck, and other animals they hunted. I did it all the time. Venison was my favorite…but human flesh gave it that extra flavor that was simply divine!”

Vaggie, Angel, and Charlie made disgusted faces. “Can we please not bring that up?” Charlie asked, coming to sit down.

“But I just did,” he replied nonchalantly.

Vaggie stared hard at her bowl, eye twitching, fearful of finding any part that may have looked vaguely human. Niffty had licked her bowl clean…literally. Husk was busy drinking another bottle of booze.

“What the flying, fuck, Alastor?!” Angel stated. “I love your looks and all, but try and tone down on the cannibalism.”

Alastor leaned in slightly closer to Angel. “I read somewhere that some people on Earth consume insects in their diet. Including spiders.”

Angel’s eyes widened in fear, but soon, his pink pupils dilated. “You would…try and eat me?” he asked with a grin, pink gloved hand moving just a hair toward his dick.

Alastor deciphered what he was implying and replied with a haughty “No. Not in that way.”

“Your loss,” Angel called as the Radio Demon moved away from the white feminine dressed spider.

Vaggie narrowed her eyes a Husk. “Can we at least not drink during a meeting?”

“Hasn’t started yet,” Husk replied, not even looking at her.

Vaggie mentioned to the bar with her spear. “That bar shouldn’t even be here!”

“I think it’s a necessary thing to have,” Angel replied. “Gotta have some liquor to enjoy between the pole dancing performances and stripping and…”

“The hotel is not a strip club, Angel!” Vaggie pressed on.

Alastor conjured a glass of Cornac in his hand with dark red magic and began to drink.

Angel grinned widely, one of his top sharp teeth golden. “See? The strawberry pimp agrees, too!”

A growl rumbled in Alastor’s throat as he glanced in Angel’s direction.

“What the…” Husk gasped. “No fair!” He clenched his claws. “I’ve had it with your fucking games and showing off.” He looked like a cat ready to pounce.

“What’d you plan to do, Husker? Fight me and lose your job?”

The Radio Demon’s tone was laced with warning. A grumbling Husk got the message and sank back in his chair.

“That’s what I thought.”

Charlie banged her fist on the table, getting everyone’s attention. “Alright then! If you all are done with your meals…”

Alastor snapped his fingers and the bowls vanished. Husk glanced at where his bowl was before. “I wasn’t done yet!”

“…let’s get down to business with our first group meeting.”

Charlie in her white tuxedo with a black bow tie, stood up and walked over to the white board. She held a wooden pointer in her hands.

On the board, the words “Happy Hotel” were written in rainbow letters. Random drawings of unicorns, puppies, flowers, and smiling stick figures of demons decorated the board off to the side.

“First and foremost, welcome to the Happy Hotel! I’m Charlie and I’m the founder of this place. How about we introduce ourselves?”

“Babe, we ain’t kids ya know,” Angel remarked. “Besides, I already know the names of you guys.”

“And frankly, I could care less,” Husk added.

“I am Alastor, the Radio Demon! Pleasure to meet all of you!”

“That radio voice of yours is getting on my nerves,” Vaggie muttered under her breath. “That wasn’t even necessary.”

“What was that?” Alastor asked with a tilt of his head. “Speak up. Say it a bit louder for the people in the back.”

Charlie looked at Vaggie who pointed to something on the board. The look in her eyes was telling Charlie to move on.

“O-okay then,” Charlie said. “With the introductions over…ground rules!”

Vaggie nodded and gave her a thumbs up.

“Rule number one: Treat each other the way you want to be treated. Be kind to each other or at least tolerant.”

Angel smirked. “Easier said than done.”

Alastor rolled his eyes and laughed.

Charlie put her hands on her hips. “You guys think this is all a joke, but I don’t. If you want to stay here, then you have to put in some effort. Even if it’s little steps every day.”

“Like I said before, you can’t baby us into good behavior,” Angel said. “Are we like your students or something?”

“Clients, yes,” she replied.

“You’re just a teen, darling,” Alastor added. “You don’t have any experience with being formerly human or know about how Hell really works. I’m surprised you made it this far after your entertaining fiasco on the picture show.”

That hit her hard. Alastor grinned in amusement at the stunned look on her face. His laugher rang in her ears (if she even had any).

Charlie had dealt with snide comments like that for many years. Helsa and Katie Killjoy were the worst, never hesitating to bring her down with comments on her clothing, her silly ideas, or her clown-like appearance.

“She’s a living joke!” Helsa would say, earning a snicker from her brother Seviathan. “Look at her blushing cheeks and tuxedo. Hey, you gonna juggle demon heads for us, princess?”

A younger Helsa was standing with a bunch of mean girls by a row of lockers (resembling Zootopia school girls with animal-like features.)

“Hey, look! It’s the gay princess of rainbows!” Helsa called. “I wanna see you smooch those loser girls over there. A love fest for freaks!”

A girl with a white ponytail and glasses whispered to another girl who stretched out her leg and made Charlie trip…papers flying everywhere as their laughter screeched around her.

“Well, looks like your project is dead on arrival,” Katie Killjoy had said, getting into her face. “How does it feel to be such a failure?”

“Listen well, Charlotte, because I won’t say this again,” Lucifer had warned her back at home. “If you know what’s good for you, you will give up on your foolish idea and start behaving like an adult.”

“But I am an adult!” Charlie protested, no longer struggling. “And I’ve decided as princess to continue on with opening the hotel. It will be what’s best for us.”

Flames sparked in Lucifer’s eyes. “If you think causing a war is what’s best for us, then you are gravely mistaken. I had high hopes for you all these years. But now…you’re nothing but a failure.”

“Charlie?”

A familiar voice cut in. Charlie looked to see concern in Vaggie’s yellow eye.

Vaggie enveloped her gray hand into Charlie’s pale one and gave it a comforting squeeze. The feeling seemed to bring her back from her plaguing thoughts.

She took a breath.

“Well, that may be true,” she began, regaining her composure, “But my parents taught me a lot about Hell as well as their histories. I know I’m new at this project and I’ve never interacted much with a lot of people. But I’m learning new things every day from sinners like you all. I do my best every day because I know that there is good in every one of you. And I’m not going to give up on my goal. I’m offering you all a second chance; you could start doing the same for me.”

Alastor was a bit taken aback, if not impressed with how well she recovered.

“Inside of every demon is a failure,” Alastor sang softly.

“You don’t know the song, do you?” Charlie spoke up, briefly startling him. She smirked. “And besides, I’m older than all of you. I’m over 150 years old.”

Everyone stared in stunned silence. Angel’s mouth was open and he breathed “say what?” Booze sputtered from Husk’s mouth and the winged cat demon coughed. Niffty scurried over and wiped up the spilled drops off the table. Alastor’s mouth was almost hitting the floor. But shortly after that, he cleared his throat and added, “You’re beautiful all the same.”

He winked and Charlie let out a giggle. Vaggie gave a deadpan stare at Alastor, gripping her harpoon tighter in her hands.

“Rules!” Charlie proclaimed, getting back to the topic. “First rule is the Golden Rule. Be kind and respectful to everyone.”

Rule number two: No drinking during the day or past curfew. Angel. Husk.”

She stared at them. “You better be listening.”

“I’m listening,” Husk said. “I just don’t care.”

“I can take that booze away from you,” Vaggie said.

“Try it bitch.”

“Enough, enough! Rule number three: no drugs of any kind. Angel.”

“Rule number four; no distributing porn. Again, Angel, take note of this.”

“For fuck’s sake, sugar!” Angel replied. “You trying to make my life miserable here?”

“Do you want to stay rent free or not, bastard?” Vaggie added.

“Touché,” Angel said, calming down.

“Rule number five: No murdering or harming any guests or staff members. Applies to everyone. Especially Alastor.”

“What?” he said with a chuckle. “If I wanted to hurt anyone here…”

“You would’ve done so already. We get it,” Vaggie yelled, walking over to him, spear at the ready. “Bullshit. If you won’t take that rule seriously…I can make sure that you do.”

“Rule number six, no swearing.”

Husk let out a series of cuss words in response.

“Vaggie, Husk, and Angel Dust, this rule is for you.”

None of them looked happy about it.

Alastor looked smug in his seat. “That’s one rule I don’t have to worry about.”

He appeared next to Charlie after materializing from shadow. He placed her hand son her shoulders. “But what’s say you? You’ve let out some swear words as well. I heard you on the picture show.”

Charlie looked flustered. “Y-yes, I know. I’m working on that too.”

Alastor cupped her cheeks and tilted the corners of her mouth upwards. “No frowns allowed, dear. That’s another rule.”

“Get away from her, you psycho!” Vaggie called, holding her spear and walking beside Charlie.

“It’s okay Vaggie,” Charlie assured.

Alastor poked the girls’ noses and materialized back in his seat.

“Rule number seven: respect personal space at all times. Applies to everyone. Especially now that there’s a pandemic going around.”

Alastor nodded. “A very important rule to have. The six foot rule! Angel Dust over there will have to follow it if he wants his fingers to stay intact.”

Angel backed up in his seat.

“But you will too, Al,” Charlie mentioned. “Just because you don’t like to be touched, doesn’t mean you can just touch others whenever you want.”

Charlie felt cold hands wrap around her waist. She glanced down and they were long and black. The air behind her felt cold and hummed with dark power. She looked back and stared into a shadowy face with blank teal eyes and a creepy teal grin.

“Argh!” Charlie jumped back in fright. Alastor’s shadow vanished.

“Don’t do that, Alastor!”

Alastor chuckled. “I didn’t touch you or anything. Surely, the no touching rule doesn’t apply all the time. How else would we dance and have fun?”

Charlie sighed, “Good point there.”

“Splendid!”

“Alright, now onto a list of possible solutions and goals to work toward. Vaggie helped me with this list.”

Charlie walked around the room and passed out identification papers unique to each individual that listed the subject’s dates of death, their sins and rehabilitation strategies. Extra copies were kept in a folder in Charlie’s desk.

“No sharing any personal info,” said Charlie. “Anyone who wants to talk about personal issues can do so in their own time.”

Everyone looked at her with appreciation in their eyes.

“To briefly list them out with Vaggie’s help:

“Angel Dust: drug therapy and gradual lessening of the cocaine and angel dust. Only drinking in the evenings or every other day. Frequent injections of medicine for sobering effect. Refrain from doing turf wars. No use of guns and weapons permitted in the hotel unless for self-defense. Rewards for cooperation include: staying rent free, making new friends, payment as progress goes on.”

“Alastor: No invading other people’s space. Any murder, harm or demonic possession will result in dismissal and use of harpoon weapon. Use of dark magic on anyone is prohibited. No making deals with anyone. Rewards for cooperation include: jambalaya, jazz dances, singing, and the willingness to hear dad jokes.”

“Husk: No stealing or hoarding liquor or any alcoholic beverages. We know that you do. Try and spend more time for alternative activities such as magic shows and similar gambling games that involve either less money or fake money. Rewards for cooperation include: catnip, weekend booze, money, and extra alone time.”

Charlie had written the next part for Vaggie:

“Vaggie: Take deep breaths and focus on me whenever temper arises. Refrain from swearing and killing if possible. Have faith that this project will work and keep supporting me. It’s much appreciated. Reward: new friends and spending time with me.”

“Niffty: don’t lift others up or cause any chaos. We know you’re capable of murder as well, so same rules: no murder, apply. Stalking men will result in a warning. Keep up the cooking and cleaning but don’t get too carried away. (rumor has it that you and Husk dispose bodies for Alastor, so watch your backs.) Rewards for cooperation include: spare time for reading, writing, and sharing fanfiction.”

Charlie glanced down and saw a section of advice for her written by Vaggie:

“Charlie: Refrain from swearing and getting too involved with the lives of other clients. It will take a while for demons to get redeemed, let alone go to Heaven, so be patient. Don’t be afraid to be stern and strict when necessary. You see the good in everyone, so bring out all their good traits while acknowledging the bad. Never give up on your goal, no matter what others may say. And most importantly:

BE CAUTIOUS OF ALASTOR.”

Charlie smiled at Vaggie who smiled back genuinely. She mouthed “I love you,” and Charlie did the same.

“Well, that pretty much covers it,” she said brightly. “We plan on having weekly meetings whenever we can. If any of you wish to talk about your personal issues, you can speak to me in private for a session.”

Vaggie nodded.

“Now…onto the fun part! The games I planned out!”

She held up drawings.

Vaggie groaned and facepalmed.

“Karaoke nights! Bingo! Strawberry cake desserts and cupcakes to share! Demon Dance Revolutions on stage! Bring your pets to work day! Arts and crafts and meet and greets! Sociological issues in Hell with Vaggie. And every Sunday, tales of Heaven and happiness!”

Now everyone had given up on taking her seriously. Some even began fidgeting or standing up to leave.

“I’ll stick with pole dancing,” said Angel.

“And gambling,” said Husk.

“Don’t forget dad jokes!” Alastor added.

“18+ fanfictions to share,” said Niffty. “My favorite: When Vox, Sir Pentious, and Alastor Cared for Me in Bed!”

Everyone gasped in surprise and disgust. The group parted ways, agreeing to meet back in the lobby.

Alastor briefly walked out of the room and up onto the balcony. His staff lit up.

“Hello there, you fabulous sinful folk! It is I, Alastor the Radio Demon coming to you live from…”

He briefly looked behind him to see that Charlie wasn’t watching,

“…the Hazbin Hotel! What is it, you ask? It is a unique little joint run by Princess Charlotte that aims to rehabilitate sinners. Yes, what a crazy idea indeed, but apparently, she already has a few clients waiting to stay there. It’s been getting boring around here and I think the princess and her friends could use some extra company. If you’re looking for a place to stay, or to hang out, or if you simply want to try and be a better person only to fail miserably at it…come on over! And it’s free as well!”

He laughed and basked in his glory. Keeping his promise to Blitzo, he added,

“…If you ever want demons or even humans to die after doing you wrong, contact the Immediate Murder Professionals. A lovely trio of imps in Imp City, they’ll kill your intended targets anyway you wish, both in Hell and on Earth! Decapitation, disembowelment, suffocation… you name it, they’ll do it. Goodbye humans, hello justice! Bonus: kids die for free!”

He snapped his fingers and a jazzy version of the I.M.P. Jingle played on air.

“I’ll see you around next time, here on 66.6FM. And as always, smile and stay tuned!”

The staff blinked off.

“Alastor?” Charlie called from inside. “What were you doing? I heard some music out from the balcony.”

Alastor turned around. “Hello, my dear! I just came out for some fresh air.”

“Where you just on the radio?” she asked.

“Yes. Nothing much, just advertising your hotel to the public.”

Now it was Charlie’s turn for her jaw to hit the floor. A mixture of elation, surprise, and nervousness spurred through her core.

“Y-You what?”

Alastor laughed. “I did say I wanted to help, didn’t I? So I figured, why not spread the word to a wider audience?”

Charlie smiled but was also shaking. If it was true, then now everyone would know about the hotel. Including Helsa, Katie, her parents…

On the one hand, it was the start of a dream come true. More people would folk to the front doors in the hopes of possibly redeeming themselves in the future.

On the other hand, she’d now be a potential laughing stock for everyone in Hell. Her embarrassment at the news station was awful enough. Now there could be more demons out there who would dismiss her idea just like that.

In the back of her head, she wondered about the other overlords. Would they be willing to come to the hotel as well? Could they track her location and harm her when she was by herself?

And what would her parents think of this? The last thing she wanted was another lecture from her father of how her plan seemed unreasonable, ridiculous and a waste of time.

But then again…she had her friends with her. She had Alastor to protect her. If she wanted to prove herself, she would have to get started somehow.

“Thank you, Al. I don’t know what to say,” she finally said.

“Think nothing of it, my dear. More people means more entertainment, doesn’t it?”

Charlie walked back inside, soon surrounded by the others. She stared into each of their eyes and saw something she’d never thought she’d see: sparks of hope and support. Genuine smiles on their faces, even for Husk. Each individual leading different lives but all connected together in a strange bond. A band of misfits, brought together by herself and fate. The downtrodden brought to a place of comfort, where they could be themselves while working toward getting into paradise.

It was the start of something special. Of potentially making a difference and changing her world.

“Charlie?” Vaggie asked.

“Yes,” she said.

Vaggie mentioned to the door. A series of knockings could be heard. Charlie walked toward the door, hesitantly reaching for the handle before swinging it open.

A pair of three imps and a hellhound stood in the doorway. The one in front had a white and red face with yellow eyes, long curved horns and a black mark on his forehead. The shorter imp to his right had white hair, a red face, yellow eyes and shorter horns. Both of them wore navy blue business suits, their long pointed red tails behind them. The other imp was dressed in a black tank top with torn pants. She had lone eyelashes and eye rows, plus a red face and wild black hair. Finally, the white furry hellhound was dressed in street clothing: torn short pants, a spiked collar around her neck and a tank top held in place with string shaped like a downward pointing pentagram.

“Can I help you?” she asked.

“Is this the Hazbin Hotel?” asked the imp in front. “The Radio Demon kindly advertised our company and so we decided to see what this Hazbin business is about.”

“No, this is the Happy Hotel,” she said, confusion etched onto her face.

“The sign up there read Hazbin,” said the shorter male imp.

The first imp spoke. “So you’re the princess that the Radio Demon talked about. Redeeming sinners, right?”

Charlie scratched the back of her neck. “Yes.”

Blitzo laughed. “My, that’s a first when it comes to hilarious ideas. And I thought Stolas was crazy in the head.”

Charlie flushed, eyes downward.

“But hey, don’t worry, we’re just here for a visit. At Alastor’s request.”

Those words sent an unforeseen chill down her spine. He wondered what he meant by that.

Making an effort to be polite, she held out her hand. “I’m Charlie.”

“Blitzo!” said the imp in front, shaking her hand. “The o is silent. Head of I.M.P. This is Moxxie, Millie, and my dear Loony. May we come in?”

“Sure.”

Blitzo proudly walked in, followed by a grumpy Moxxie, an excited Millie and an indifferent Loona.

Vaggie gasped in shock as the group came in. Angel, Husk and Niffty soon took notice.

“Hello there good friends!” Alastor greeted. He had clearly been expecting them. He turned to Niffty. “Niffty, it’s your turn to make some jambalaya for our new guests!”

“I’m on it!” she beamed before dashing of toward the kitchen.

“Jamba-what now?” Moxxie asked.

“Jambalaya, a Creole specialty dish from New Orleans. Rice, shrimp, vegetable, meat, and fresh flesh mixed in if you prefer.”

“Sounds ravishing to me!” Millie said. She looked around at the hotel. “Wow, this place is quite something! It may not be the fanciest one but it’s better than the slums and halfway houses in Imp City.”

She turned to Blitzo, “Blitzo can we please stay a night or two?”

“No Millie, this is a place for sinners, not for us hellborn. Besides, we’ll have to go back to headquarters once our visit is over.”

Millie pouted a bit.

Moxxie folded his arms. “Getting sent here for a ”meet and greet.” Pathetic. We’re treated like dirt day in and day out by Hell society. Why visit a random hotel down the pit?”

“Because,” Blitzo said, eyes shining. “Alastor promised me a taste of musical theater and entertainment. The two of us on stage!”

“That’s right!” he chimed in. “I heard about I.M.P. on the picture show. It was the least I could do to show my support. And here I am supporting Charlie with her hotel. It does feel good to help out others.”

Charlie cupped her face and beamed in delight. Millie and Niffty stood and giggled as they watched Alastor from a distance. Vaggie and everyone else looked suspicious. Vaggie seriously doubted that Alastor actually meant what he said. He was only concerned about entertaining himself and using others for his benefit.

Blitzo and Moxxie exchanged worried looks. The hidden mark of Kalfu and Alastor hummed inside their heads. The three imps were, in fact, summoned to the hotel just after Alastor’s announcement. Loona quickly tracked them down, almost pulled in after then as well. She, too, felt a pinch of dark energy inside her.

Moxxie opened his mouth speak, but no sound came out. He tried to use his hands for sign language, but a dark shadow seemed to hold his fingers in place. A look of fear was etched onto his face. He stared at Charlie, desperate to tell her, but he could only blink and move his eyes. Charlie was oblivious, of course. Vaggie and Angel were merely concerned. Niffty and Husk felt the same energy pulsing from inside their heads like a dark heartbeat. They knew that just like the newcomers, they couldn’t do anything but wait and watch. By the time the others figured out they had made deals with Alastor, he’d probably brush them aside, having no use for them. There was no way to tell, so they stopped thinking about it.

“Is something the matter, good sir?” Alastor asked, grin stretching slightly.

A flash of a recent memory at headquarters…

A very slow “Shave and a Haircut” knock filled up the silence. It came from behind the door that led to the hallway.

Loona and Husk froze, maws open in mid-brawl. Moxxie raised his eyebrows and suddenly started to shiver. Millie and Blitzo suddenly felt an oncoming sense of dread. Husk crossed his arms and rolled his eyes. Niffty, however, clapped her hands in excitement. She took some steps forward, but froze at Moxxie’s glare.

“Do not answer the door,” Moxxie whispered in a harsh tone.

Niffty stared in confusion. “Why not? He’s my friend.”

Moxxie narrowed his eyes.

“From the other side!” Niffty emphasized.

“Just don’t go any further.”

Niffty grinned and tiptoed closer to the door.

“No, no, no,” Moxxie breathed, moving his hands across in a signal. “Stop right there.”

Niffty stopped and slowly reached her thin black hand toward the round handle.

“Oh for Lucifer’s sake!” Blitzo announced, walking toward the door. “It’s Niffty’s coworker. How bad can he be?”

He opened the door and grinned. “Hi I’m Blitz…”

His eyes widened and his face fell.

“…o.”

Blitzo stared at a towering tall demon wearing a tattered red dress coat with vertical thin stripes. Burgundy colored pants covered his legs and ended in red patches along the ends. He wore black dress shoes with red deer print marks on the soles. His undershirt was red and had an upside down black cross as part of the design. A black bow tie was displayed below his slender neck. One of his four clawed hands held a red vintage microphone staff.

Blitzo stuttered, at a loss for words. Fear was constricting his throat. He stuttered as he looked up at the man’s face, “Welcome…”

Blitzo stared at the man’s red and black hair, with large deer ears and antlers. His large red eyes blinked to life from a pale face. A monocle gleamed under his right eye.

“…to…”

The man displayed a grin of sharp yellow teeth, his smile too wide to be considered natural.

“…I.M.P…”

The demon opened his mouth, “Hell…”

Blitzo slammed the door, catching his breath. He opened it a crack…

“…o!”

Closed it again. “Guys…” he began.

“What?” Moxxie asked in frustration.

“I think we need to move away. Niffty, could you please send your friend away? He’s giving me the creeps.”

Niffty shook her head.

“Don’t let him in, sir!” Moxxie said. Husk nodded in agreement.

Millie gasped, “That’s a rude way to treat a guest!”

“Okay then, do you want to open the door?”

Millie gulped.

Blitzo sighed and opened it again.

“May I speak now?” the man asked.

“Sure, whatever,” Blitzo muttered.

The overlord swooped into the room. “Greetings fellow sinners! I’m Alastor but people call me the Radio Demon. I heard from my little darling Niffty that you imps are part of an assassination organization, yes?”

Blitzo took a deep breath and cleared his throat. A smile appeared on his face, now that he was feeling confident. “That’s correct, good sir! I’m Blitzo and I’m the founder of the Immediate Murder Professionals, I.M.P. for short.”

Alastor laughed. “What a clever name! I.M.P. run by imps! And who are your associates?”

Blitzo mentioned to the other imps, “This is Moxxie and Millie.” Millie waved and blushed while Moxxie glowered.

Loona looked up from her phone.

“…and this is my sweet daughter, Loona,” Blitzo finished.

Loona growled and snapped her teeth at Alastor, causing him to take a step back. Retaining his composure, he continued. “That little maid is Niffty, and that cat over there is Husk. I saw your commercial on the picture show and was intrigued. Murdering people in gruesome ways…a classic form of entertainment! It even makes my methods look standard. All thanks to Niffty for finding your location.”

Niffty smiled and waved.

“Next time, don’t mention Imp City in the ad,” Moxxie spat at Blitzo in a low voice.

Alastor walked slightly closer to Blitzo, leaning in. “Is it true that you have access to the living world?”

“Uh…yes?” Blitzo answered. He felt Alastor’s fingers make their way along his curved horns. Despite himself denying it, Blitzo felt his cheeks go pink.

“And you can create portals? Splendid, indeed. There’s no other being in Hell who can do that.”

“Smooth liar,” Husk muttered from a distance.

“That’s right!” Blitzo replied. “Our company has special access to the living world due to our abilities. I may have also stolen a Satanic ritual book from a bird dick overlord several days ago. Top secret.”

Moxxie’s face turned purple, he made the hand signal for “zip it!” to Blitzo, but of course, he wasn’t paying attention.

Alastor smiled and put a finger to his lips. “Rest assured, whatever happens here, stays here.”

He waved his hand and two bottles of booze appeared in front of Husk.

“You might think you can keep getting away with bribing me like that…” Husk said, narrowing his eyes, “…but we both know you can!” He picked up a bottle and started drinking. Loona snatched the other one.

“What exactly are you doing here, anyway?” Moxxie demanded to Alastor.

“Why I’m here to help out your company, of course! I’m already involved in helping Charlie with her hotel, so I figured I could expand my horizons.”

The Radio Demon walked over to Millie. “Hello, dear, it’s a pleasure to meet you.”

He gently kissed her red hand, making her giggle.

Moxxie slapped his hand away. “No one touches my wife, you got that?”

Alastor just shrugged and walked toward the table.

“Don’t you walk away from me, Mister!” Mooxie stood from his chair and walked over to him. He pointed at his chest, making the demon’s smile more strained. “You look like a shady showman to me, so listen here. You have no business whatsoever in interfering with our company. Or messing around with my coworkers and my boss. So, don’t go around harming anyone here, or we’ll kick you out of our office…or just slice you to bits, Dapper Deer!”

Alastor just laughed softly. Millie and Blitzo walked over to calm Moxxie down.

“If I wanted to hurt anyone here…” Alastor said…

He then spoke in a creepy tone: “I would’ve done so already.”

His eyes turned into red moving radio dials and the air filled with radio static and floating red voodoo symbols.

He shook his head and the sensations ceased. His eyes returned to normal. “So, now let’s talk about how I can help you out.”

“What?” Millie asked.

“How can I be of assistance? You want donations? Promotion? An upgraded outfit?”

Blitzo scoffed, “My outfit is great enough as it is. But… you said something about promotions?”

Alastor nodded. “You ever feel like your work goes unrecognized?”

“Yeah,” Blitzo replied. “People do come to us a lot to murder people, but…”

Alastor tilted his head…

Blitzo continued, “…but the imps and residents here look down on us. Not to mention even the sinners brush us aside like we’re trash. That’s why we’ve kept to ourselves a lot. We imps have to stick together…and hellhounds, too.”

Loona rolled her eyes.

“But your company is so unique, and with such special access, I don’t know why others would look down on you,” Alastor mentioned. “Whoever those horrible people are…who are they?”

“My asshole father,” Blitzo said. “He’s kept me from achieving my musical theater dreams.”

Alastor placed a hand on Blitzo’s shoulder. He spoke in his sympathetic tone, reserved for making others feel at ease.

“Oh, believe me, I’ve been there. I’ve loved singing and music ever since I can remember. And my dad…well it’s a long story, too tragic to go into. Have you ever thought of…killing the person in your way? It’s surprisingly simple, and you of all people should know.”

“I…um…”

Moxxie nodded. “I had a dream that my parents were being murdered, and I wanted to get back to that.”

“What if I told you…there was a way for your dreams to come true?”

“That’s impossible,” Moxxie scoffed.

Alastor appeared behind him, from his shadow form, making him jump. “I don’t think so! I can do so many things for your cause.” He stood in front of the three imps. A flaming bag of money appeared in Alastor’s outstretched hand, in front of Blitzo’s eyes. It changed to fiery silhouettes of Blitzo, Moxxie, and Millie dancing to the clapping of a crowd coming through his microphone. “This may seem like a bit much, but so far, you’re a well-established company.” The I.M.P. logo appeared in his hand before he closed it. “I could improve you ads, extend your business to Pentagram City, all under my protection. Imps won’t have to be the lowest of the low ever again.”

Blitzo and his associates looked at each other, lost in thought. Alastor’s grin grew wider.

“Do you really want to give up this golden opportunity?”

Moxxie paused. Blitzo found himself shaking his head. Millie smiled at Niffty and Husk nearby.

Alastor turned to leave. “Well, it was worth a try. I could give you some time to think about it…it was only a suggestion.”

He slowly walked toward the door. “3…2…1…”

Blitzo’s eyes went wide. “No, no, wait! Don’t leave.”

Alastor turned his head, smile wide. He turned back to them and held out his right hand. “So, do we have a deal?”

“No deals!” Moxxie yelled, pulling Blitzo away. “There’s something shifty about this guy. The stuff he says is too good to be true.”

“You sure about that?” he asked. “Perhaps I need to persuade you a little more…”

He snapped his fingers and the table and pictures vanished. The room turned a dark purple and the floor became wooden like dance floor. Deer antlers and voodoo symbols lined the walls in neon colors. The posters now showed deer with black bloody circles in place of eyes. Alastor’s outfit changed into a red suit, with a red top hat with pins sticking out. Soon, everyone was wearing attire from the early 1900s: dapper dresses and round hats of purple, green and yellow for Millie, Niffty, and Loona, and suits of light blue, white and black for Blitzo, Husk and Moxxie.

“Take it boys!” Alastor called, snapping his fingers. Shadow spirits emerged from a newly created portal in the ground. One played a saxophone, one a trumpet, and the other played the drums.

A jazzy remix of the I.M.P. jingle played. Moxxie and Millie danced and spun around in the spotlight as the music played. Husk and Moxxie glared at each other in a corner. Niffty smiled and danced along, while Loona stared at her phone again.

Alastor mentioned for Blitzo to come on stage and sing with him. Blitzo blushed and slowly made his way next to him.

Alastor sang through his vintage microphone, which lit up.

“When you want somebody dead,

And you wanna poke fun at their head

Call the Immediate Murder Professionals

Whether homicide or genocide

We’ll make it look like suicide

Immediate Murder Professionals

We do our job so well

‘Cause we come straight up from Hell

We’ll kill your husband or your wife

We’ll even let you keep the knife

The Immediate…Murder…Professionals

The song was followed by an electro swing solo and a repeat of the verses.

Blitzo was lost in a blissful trance as he and Alastor spun around in a dance.

They both stopped to catch their breath as the music slowed to a relaxing jazz melody.

Alastor held out his right hand. “What’d you say? Won’t you shake a poor sinner’s hand?” The area around him glowed an eerie green and a strange wind gusted.

Millie ran over and eagerly shook his hand. “I accept! Thank you for your help!” In the shadows, Moxxie was pulled toward Alastor by black tentacles wrapping around his waist.

Blitzo stared at Alastor’s hand in front of him. Common sense told him to stay far away from this demon.

But Millie had shaken his hand already…and he did offer to help them…

Blitzo’s musical dream was just beginning, and so was his company. Why back out now?

He slowly moved his hand closer, hovering over Alastor’s fingerless glove- covered hand.

Loona’s eyes grew wide. Her fur stuck on end and her instincts kicked in. She could smell deceit and evil coming from the demon. She hadn’t thought it would go this far. For the first time, she placed her phone down on the ground. “Blitz!” she called.

Blitzo briefly looked behind Alastor…and saw his adopted daughter…with fear in her eyes for the first time. He was sure he was dreaming. There was no way magic like this could exist, and surely his daughter wouldn’t show this much concern for him.

But then again…Blitzo could create portals to Earth, so anything was possible.

“Anything is possible,” said Alastor, as if reading his thoughts.

“Don’t do it!” Loona barked. She raced over to Blitzo…only for Husk and Niffty to block her. Husk’s eyes and Niffty’s eye glowed red. “Ahh, the fuck?!” Loona exclaimed, in shock.

Blitzo’s shaking hand inched closer…

Moxxie’s hand was forcibly guided to the demon’s other hand by the tentacles…

Loona growled and swatted Husk and Niffty aside with her paws.

Blitzo’s hand touched Alastor’s at the same time Moxxie’s did.

“Noooo!”

The Radio Demon cackled in triumph as Blitzo and Moxxie shook his hands. All three imps briefly opened their eyes wide, all glowing red. Small streams of evil black energy from their souls traveled from each of their mouths and into Alastor’s staff. Husk and Niffty stood up and stared at each other…for this had happened to them as well. All five of them stood still like soldiers, each with too-wide grins on their faces as static and symbols filled the air.

“No, sir, nothing.” Moxxie replied.

The pulsing stopped and a shadow was lifted.

“Very well then. Off we go to the bar.”

Angel and Blitzo walked side by side, having a heated conversation.

“I’d kill to work for a company like yours, pun not intended,” Angel said. “Being paid to kill people? With all the turf wars I’m in, I’ve killed or hurt dozens of demons. With humans, it’s no problem.”

“What do you do,” Blitzo asked. “I must admit, your dress is rather…strange.”

“It’s a suit, thank you very much.”

“I still like it.”

“Really? Well, I’m not too surprised. I’m Hell’s number one porn star after all.”

“What’s that like?”

“I work for my boss Valentino. He’s the owner of a porn studio not too far from here. I just tell my haters, “It’s my day to be gay.” And to those who wanna fuck with me, they gotta pay me. My services don’t come cheap.”

“Heh,” Blitzo said with curiosity. “You with Valentino?”

“Yeah, he’s rough in the bedroom. Doesn’t really care much about me other than me paying him and keeping myself in line.”

“Sounds similar to Stolas. He sheds his feathers when he’s aroused. We fucked in his palace and I stole a Satanic ritual book to access the living world.”

Angel grinned. “Oooh! Kinky!”

“Then I fell down into chocolate cake and tell his queen, “Sorry I fucked your husband!”

“Damn! And you’re still alive?”

“I was lucky to hightail it outta there before she could peck out my insides.”

“Oh, tell me more.”

Blitzo laughed. “He called me over the phone and told me he wasn’t lonely now that so many people die from the covid 19 virus. Then he was then like, “When I’m lonely, I become hungry, and when I’m hungry… I want to…”

Blitzo continued on with a string of curse words and graphic descriptions.

“...and I’ll leave you screaming….like a fucking baby!”

Angel stared stunned at what he had told him. “Holy shit. And I thought I was into BDSM. This owl guy could probably intimidate Valentino. Heheheheh. I did the same thing to Alastor as a prank call and he just hung up on me.”

“Hahaha! I can see why.”

Charlie and Vaggie walked side by side together, placing their distance from the guys.

“Stolas…” Charlie said to Vaggie after hearing the name. “It sounds familiar. Oh I remember. He’s Melodia’s husband and father of Octavia.”

“Who’s that?”

“Octavia is a princess like me, except she’s a black and white owl. We…we used to be best friends when we were younger. We did typical princess tuff, tea parties, dress up, and the occasional murder. We even went to Hell-World in Gore-rida.”

Vaggie’s eyes brightened. “I remember when we went there together.”

“Yes. We posed together in front of the castle and we rode all the rides, too. Oh and the Disney musicals were the best part!”

The two girls reminisced over the fun times.

Charlie’s face fell. “But then, as time went on, we grew distant. I started to focus on the Happy Hotel and several other projects that could help out sinners. I encouraged Octavia to join me, but she refused. She thought my ideas were stupid and a waste of time. After a few years, she started to believe that I didn’t want to be her friend anymore. I told her that wasn’t true but she didn’t believe me. She said that if I were her friend, I would’ve kept in contact with her, dressed more properly and mostly forget about my rehabilitation goals.”

“That sounds harsh,” Vaggie said. “I’m sorry you had to go through that.” She placed a comforting hand on her shoulder.

“My dad was hoping that our families could be on good terms through a partnership. Not by marriage but by business and friendship. Now we hardly see each other.”

Everyone made their way into the larger area, where they were free to talk or roam around.

Later on, Alastor and a very happy Blitzo were singing together in the spotlight up on stage. Blitzo now had a fancy dark blue suit with an orange, red tie and two dark top hats over his horns with stitched up smiley faces on it. With a confident grin, Alastor pulled Charlie onto the stage to sing along with them, much to Vaggie’s shock and anger.

Loona and Husk were fighting furiously over a bottle of booze.

“That’s my bottle, you bitch,” Husk hissed. “Go buy your own.”

It’s mine, pussycat.”

“Homeless furry beast. Go back to the fucking slum where you and the hellhounds belong!”

“I’ll chase you and rip you apart, you gambling shittalking clown!”

The two of them bared teeth and claws, swiping at each other and pulling each other’s ears.

Without ceasing his tap dancing nor letting his smile falter, Alastor snapped his fingers. Loona and Husk were sent to opposite corners of the room, each with a bottle of booze next to them. They both looked stunned before gulping down their bottles with deadly glares.

Charlie stepped up to the microphone and began to sing:

“Sing it out

You’ve got to see what tomorrow brings

Sing it out

You’ve got to be what tomorrow needs

For every time that they want to count you out

Use your voice every single time you open up your mouth

Sing it for the beaus

Sing it for the belles

Every time you lose it, sing it for Hell

Sing it from the heart

Sing it till you’re nuts

Sing it out for the ones you hate your guts

Sing it for the winners

Sing it for the sinners

Sing about everyone as you make fresh dinners”

Alastor’s heart fluttered as he immersed himself in the moment. Focusing only on the sound of her angelic enchanting voice.

“Oh Charlie, you’re full of surprises, charming demon belle.”

Meanwhile, Millie and Niffty were sharing stories about guys at their table.

Millie pointed to Moxxie, who was sitting across a table from Vaggie, both of them staring in envy at the trio on stage.

“That’s my husband, Moxxie. He can be a grump sometimes, but he’s very kind once you get to know him. He made me a song called “Oh Millie.” We sang it together one night when we were out shooting demons on the streets nearby.”

Niffty beamed. “How romantic! You two spending some great time together. Disposing bodies and dancing in the bloody rain…it’s worthy for a fairytale.”

“I know!” said Millie. “Blitzo films us outside of work, which drives Mox nuts. Sometimes he can have panic attacks, but I always know how to calm him down. I do love my job at I.M.P. Seems like I’m the only employee who does. Sure, we get into a lot of fights and we live in a crummy area of Hell. But we are a company family, so we stick together no matter what.”

“Well, I’m very happy for you.” She sighed. “It’s so sexy when a man shows his great power. I mean, look at my boss. He’s conquered a dozen areas in Hell and he has supernatural powers. Husk and I were summoned to this place to assist him. Husk is the bartender and I’m the cook and housekeeper. Man it felt good to be free of the burning lake, you know? Plus…I have a side-job too.”

“What is it?” She leaned in.

“Husk and I sometimes dispose of demon bodies after Alastor kills other demons…and we get paid at the end of every week.”

Millie laughed. “I’m all too familiar with that process. Except we dispose of humans. And on Earth…it’s more risky if you get caught. Down here, nobody cares.”

“Oh I just love men, so much! Alastor, Vox, Valentino…Lucifer too. If I had my way…”

Her voice grew lower and harmless fire spread over her body,

“I’d clean this hellhole of all the messy chaotic demons, clean up the organs and bathe in the blood. The skins of demons and women would be sewn together to make fashionable outfits for a grand ball. All the men in hell would devote themselves to me and the rest would die in cleansing flame.”

The flames stopped and Niffty shrunk back to normal size. Millie just stared at her for a while.

“Oh and I also want my new fanfiction to be noticed and published. I just fixed it, too. On Wattpad.”

She held up sheets of paper she summoned from fire: “How Vox, Valentino, Lucifer and Alastor Cared for Me in Bed.”

“I wonder what Blitzo and Moxxie are like…”

Millie glared. “Keep my husband out of this, and I’ll support your work.”

“Really? Thank you so much!”

Niffty jumped for joy and ran off to deliver more bowls of Jambalaya. Millie scanned through the papers with a smile. And then a grimace.

“Piece of shit.”

She casually tossed the papers to Loona, who tore them apart with her mouth and claws.

Moxxie and Vaggie said nothing for a while. They just watched as Charlie took a bow after singing “You’re Never Fully Dressed.”

“I swear, Blitzo, you keep going off the deep end every day. Why do I have to keep putting up with you and the dumb company?”

Vaggie watched as Alastor kissed Charlie’s hand, both of them smiling.

“Charlie, why don’t you stop and listen to me? You’d really risk our friendship…and dare I say it, your life, for an evil dealmaker who shows up at your door?”

As if they were reading each other’s thoughts, Moxxie and Vaggie glanced at each other.

“What a bunch of egocentric idiots,” he muttered.

“No need to remind me,” Vaggie said. “I wish I could slap that stupid smile off that man’s face.”

“Alastor?”

“Yes.”

“You’re stupid if you plan on trying.”

“Imp, I’ll only go that far if he puts my friend in danger.”

“I’m Moxxie, lady. I could care less about who you are.”

“Vaggie,” she growled. She gripped her spear with one hand.

Moxxie scoffed. “You gonna use that harpoon on me? You best use it wisely. After a single strike, I’d fall dead and everyone would want to get their hands on it.”

“And get kicked out of this place. No. How do you so much about my spear?”

Moxxie let out a small grin. “I’m a weapon’s specialist at I.M.P. I’ve been fixing and using guns, rifles, knives, and pretty much anything. I know an angelic weapon when I see it.”

This time, Vaggie got intrigued. “I’ve kept this with me ever since I fell down into Hell. I didn’t merely appear like the other sinners.”

She dug into her pocket and showed him one of her daggers. Moxxie studied it with interest. “Appears to be hand-made. Steel blade, slightly worn. You made this?”

Vaggie nodded. “I also am good at martial arts. Though I haven’t practiced since…well, my previous life ended and I fell from the Heavens. This weapon is my only reminder of that.”

Moxxie handed the dagger back to her. “Are you a … fallen angel?”

“Fallen Exterminator,” she corrected. “I’m stuck here forever just like everyone else. And perhaps I’m destined to die on one of the Exterminations.”

Moxxie shook his head. “With your intellect and courage…and temper, I doubt that.”

Vaggie didn’t know what to say, other than, “I figured as much.”

Moxxie then asked, “Have you ever felt like you’re…somehow second best? Like you’re just the sidekick to your boss or friend, stuck in a big company with no one but annoyances around you?”

Vaggie nodded. “All the time. It always seems to be about Charlie and Alastor. When they’re together, they act like I’m not even there. And don’t get me started on Angel Dust, Husk and Niffty. Angel, fucking son of a bitch drug addict. He jumps into turf wars and made the hotel look bad to the public. He only wants a free place to crash. He doesn’t give a flying fuck about anyone around him, it seems. And Husk, the drinker and gambler…swears as much as me. Called me bitch when I told him to stop hoarding liquor for the umpteenth time. Niffty, that fast little bugger, always hot for men and getting into everyone’s business. And Alastor…urgh! He shoves me aside, slaps my ass, steals my girlfriend away! He’d be dead if he weren’t so powerful. If this goes on too long…”

Vaggie turned away, angrily wiping a stray tear from her eye. “Just…men are untrustworthy. At least to me. They stole my virginity, stole my life, and now my afterlife best friend.”

Moxxie didn’t know what to say, he just seethed softly, debating on whether to talk to her or leave her alone.

“That’s harsh. I’m sorry. I thought I had it hard, with Blitzo stalking me every day, and him using my salary to pay for an advertisement. I live in poverty and listen to musicals…but life’s not bad not that my asshole parents aren’t around.”

Moxxie cleared his throat. “Well, I can say this, having been in Hell for a while. Keep your friends close, your enemies closer. Stick with people you trust, and when you can’t trust them…sometimes you have to roll with the punches and get through the day.”

He brandished a small black gun and clicked it for show. “Trust your instincts. And when it’s time to fight, don’t hold back.”

“I won’t, believe me.”

Her demon form emerged, her white hair fanning out, with eyes forming on it like moth wings. Her pink bow turned into pink horns and her pink x glowed. Purple moth wings made of flame sprouted from her back and an extra pair of insect like limbs allowed her to carry more weapons. Small antennae formed from the front part of her head of hair.

“I would give my life to save Charlie.”

“As I would for Millie.”

Vaggie reverted back to her regular form, the wings and features vanishing.

“Thank you, Moxxie, I really needed that.”

“Not a problem.”

They shook hands before parting ways.

Charlie ran over and enveloped Vaggie in a hug. “Oh that was such a great performance. It was so much fun being up there!”

Vaggie had to smile. “You did well up there. Your voice is beautiful.”

“Aww Vaggie,” she laughed. She planted a kiss on her friend’s forehead, a blush coming to her gray cheeks. Charlie sat next to Vaggie as they listened to Alastor’s dad jokes.

“Two radio antennas got married. The wedding was good but the reception was awesome!”

“Boo!” shouted Angel. Everyone else sat in boredom, save for Charlie, Millie, and Niffty who silently giggled. Lonna lifted a middle finger as she stared at her phone.

Alastor cleared his throat.

“Knock knock. Who’s there? Radio. Radio who?”

He then answered his joke in a demonic voice without moving his mouth.

“Radio not here I come! Hahaha!”

“Jeez, even when he’s telling jokes, he gives me the creeps,” Moxxie mentioned to Millie. Millie nodded, half dazed. “Snap out of it,” he shook her as she turned to him.

“Calm down, Mox. Don’t worry so much.”

Niffty had gotten a nosebleed and fainted in delight.

Alastor glanced down. “Somebody please help the little darling?”

Millie raced over and moved Niffty over to a couch.

“Radio not, here I come,” Vaggie scoffed. “That’s not even a dad joke, it was a knock knock joke! So terrible.”

“Like paper is,” Charlie added, with a smile.

Vaggie playfully elbowed Charlie in the ribs. “Blonde dork.”

Soon it was getting late. It was time for I.M.P. to go back to their business.

“Thank you for coming, everyone!” said Alastor. “What a splendid night it was! You’re welcome back here anytime!”

“Good riddance,” Loona called back, taking a breath of a cigarette and holding a stolen bottle of vodka in her hands. Husk flipped the bird at her as she did it back with both hands. Angel Dust had given her a bag of angel dust, which she hid in her shorts. It didn’t go unnoticed by Charlie but she decided to let the matter slide.

Loona was the first one out, followed by Millie, Moxxie, and finally, Blitzo.

“Bye everyone!” Blitzo called out. “Be sure to call us you want somebody gone!”

“Are you sure you don’t want to redeem yourself?” Charlie asked. “You are an incredible performer and it was so much fun to spend time with you.”

“Hmm, let me think…no thank you!” Blitzo laughed. “Business is business!”

Blitzo did one last wave and wink before Charlie shut the door with a sigh.

“Alright, off to your rooms everyone,” Charlie called. “We have a busy day tomorrow.”

Alastor sent his shadow to guard the perimeter outside, while the group straightened up the lobby before heading upstairs.

She walked toward a certain red clad demon.

“Alastor, you changed the sign of my hotel. Why?”

Alastor looked up from the voodoo doll he was sewing and stood up. “Darling, Happy sounded too immature. It sounds like a name for an overnight rehab center where demon’s reputations are forever tarnished in group meetings and little kid activities. This is a hotel in Hell, for misfits like us. A safe place for them to stay for the night. No other name properly reflects that.”

“That still doesn’t give you the right to change anything!”

Alastor shrugged and spread out his arms. “Hey, no need to get so frazzled. I’m just doing my part to help. Though if you don’t want any more help…I can just find entertainment elsewhere…”

“Nonono! Please…stay,” Charlie begged. “Just…stay out of trouble.”

Alastor pulled her in for a brief side hug, then pat her head. “We’ll do. Goodnight, sweetheart.”

He vanished into the shadows without another word.

#hazbinhotel #helluvaboss #crossovers

5 notes · View notes

kim-seungmine · 5 years

Text

stay inside the hourglass

title: stay inside the hourglass

characters: reader x felix of stray kids

genre: slice-of-life (growing up is hard y’all), romance, gap year

warnings: mentions of drinking, kind of felix-centric, this has the ugliest title ever, sometimes dialog-heavy

word count: 4475 words

summary: time is about to eat him alive and felix wonders if it’s better to leave things unsaid.

a/n: so here it is, the story based on chronosaurus and 19. i honestly don’t know if it’s good enough because i’m not in my best condition now but i hope you can relate and find comfort (and motivation!)

Seoul, D-90

“What is this?”

“Your birthday present.”

“I said I didn’t want presents, did I?”

“You did.”

“So why bother—”

“So you’ll always remember me. The one who still gave you presents no matter how many times you said no.”

Felix chuckled, staring at the small white box you forced him to take. He opened it, taking out a keyring you specially made for him. He could guess the meaning behind each pendant; a star because you adored his constellation-like freckles, a mosquito because his only talent that you acknowledged was his ability to imitate mosquito noises, a four-leaf clover because his name literally meant luck.

The last pendant, however, was something he didn’t expect. An hourglass. He stared at it long, racking his brain so he didn’t have to ask you what it meant. You were going to nag at him for hours for not getting it right and he hated it.

That, and he just didn’t want to disappoint you.

“What does this one mean?”

He didn’t want to disappoint you, but he also really had no idea. You smiled, watching the sand slowly trickled to the lower part of the chamber. “I’ll tell you later,” you chirped before flicking his forehead. “Happy birthday, Lee Yongbok.”

Felix would’ve flipped if it was anyone else who hurt him and called him Yongbok. But this was you, one of his very few true friends in Seoul, and he would keep you by his side for a lifetime, even though he knew that time would eventually eat him alive before he could tell you how much you meant to him.

“Okay,” he replied, already used to you and your so-called mysteriousness. He opened his drawer to take out his airpods case. You instantly pouted as he attached your keyring to it while he just grinned at you. “You really know how to disappoint me,” you mumbled.

“Everyone knows you only use your Beats earphones, dipshit. You can’t fool me!”

Felix didn’t know which part of “I don’t wanna celebrate my birthday this year” that his friends failed to understand, but there was nothing he could do when Seo Changbin dragged him out of their shared apartment later that day, telling him that everyone threw him a party.

“You don’t even need to change, you’re already wearing black.”

“There’s a dresscode?” Felix snarked. “Even I didn’t know about that.”

Changbin sighed as they stopped in front of Bang Chan’s apartment, which was only 2 floors above theirs. Lee Minho opened the door, the glint in his eyes indicated that he was already drunk. He grinned, patting Felix’s back before smooching his left cheek. Changbin quickly maneuvered his way in and abandoned his housemate who was now struggling to get out of Minho’s tight embrace. “Are you sad now that you’re 20?” he slurred. “Don’t worry, you’ll be fine. Look at me!” Felix removed Minho’s arms from his shoulders, giving him a pat on the shoulder as he slowly lost consciousness.

Walking to the living room, Felix finally realized what kind of party his friends threw for him. Black balloons were sloppily glued to Chan’s gray curtain, most of them already scattered on the floor. The host had covered his white sofa with a black cloth and exchanged his usual glass table with black wooden table. Someone had written “HAPPY MOURNDAY FELIX!” on the whiteboard pinned on the wall. He assumed it was you, since it was written with a bright red marker instead of the blue ones that Chan owned.

His eyes caught a glimpse of empty boxes of pizza and bottles of soju on the floor, causing him to scoff. His friends threw him a party but didn’t even wait for him to come before actually starting the party. “Hey Felix!” Chan yelled, smiling from ear to ear from the other side of the living room. Felix gave him a distracted wave since he finally saw you, playing Charades with Hwang Hyunjin while sitting on the countertop.

“O—oh! I know this one!” you yelled, biting your lips in frustration. “Come on Y/N we played this set before!” Hyunjin groaned, proceeding to give you more hints. Felix chuckled, knowing how much you hated losing to Hyunjin.

“Aladdin!” Felix quipped, laughing as you whipped your head at him in utter despair. “Don’t be so proud.” You punched his stomach playfully. “This just means you spend too much time watching cartoons.”

Felix placed his hand around your waist loosely, unable to contain his amusement at your rambles. He swore to God he had tried to keep his distance from you, to draw a straight line between best friends and something more. It never worked—especially when you didn’t push him away—but maybe Felix never tried hard enough, and he hated himself for that. Hyunjin gave him the look, which roughly translated to, “Stop being a dick and just confess!”

“Felix, play with Y/N. We gotta prepare your cake,” Hyunjin announced, winking at the birthday boy before dashing to the balcony, where Kim Seungmin was taking photos of the cake with his new Canon camera.

“You have really nice friends,” you commented, shaking your phone so it showed a new word. Felix bit an imaginary apple before collapsing on the floor, his eyeballs rolled to the back of his eyes. “Snow White didn’t pass out like that, you’re so dramatic,” you said, smiling as he pretended to offer you the poisoned apple.

“So did you join the photography club?” he asked. You furrowed your brows, trying to understand what he was acting out. “Tiana?” you murmured. He nodded, signaling at you to move on to the next question. “Well,” you started. “I did. Seungmin was very persuasive.”

Felix darted his eyes to the drunken Minho who was fast asleep on the couch. “Did you tell your parents yet?” Your voice was barely a whisper, breaking Felix’s heart into pieces. This was the conversation he dreaded to have; he wanted to enjoy his last few months in Seoul without thinking that he wouldn’t meet you ever again.

“I did,” he answered, glancing at the word Peter Pan written on your phone screen. “Mum said no, but my Dad said he’d consider.”

“When are you leaving?” You no longer held your phone up, shoving it back to your jeans pocket instead.

“In three months.”

You huffed, resting your head on his shoulder. “Is this why you’ve been so gloomy these days?” you pointed out. Felix rested his head on top of yours, the familiar warmth of your body calmed his senses. “Who knows I’d get so attached to dumbasses like you guys?” he attempted to joke.

Last year, all Felix wanted was to figure out what his passion was and explore Korea. His parents were ecstatic because their son finally showed interest in his home country and let him take a gap year, with a condition that he’d enroll in university as soon as he returned to Sydney. He stayed with his aunt, accidentally met Chan at a restaurant where he struggled to order kimchi fried rice with his super limited Korean, and then he introduced him to all his close friends—including you.

Fast forward to a year later, Felix now lived with Changbin who desperately needed a housemate, got a part-time job at Ediya Coffee, discovered a burning passion in dancing, had 8 annoying brothers, and was helplessly in love with you.

“What did you tell them?” you said quickly, as if wanting to stop yourself. Felix pulled away to look into your eyes that he already got used to seeing at least 10 hours a day. “I told them I want to stay here and major in dance.”

“You did?”

“What did you expect me to say?”

“Well—”

“HAPPY MOURNDAY FELIX!!!!”

Chan carried the black cake (Felix wasn’t sure if it was edible) while the others sang for him. “Blow the candles! We don’t give a shit whether you want to do it or not, you have to blow candles on your birthday!” Han Jisung said. Seungmin snapped a photo as Felix closed his eyes to blow the colorful candles.

“Thanks guys, although I specifically said not to do anything today.”

“Y/N wanted to throw you a party, and they specifically said not to care about anything you said.”

You shrugged. “This isn’t even a birthday party, this is a funeral.”

“Goodbye 19!” Seungmin fake-wailed, dunking Felix’s face into the cake. The others clapped, smearing each other’s faces with whipped cream. You giggled, trying to run away but Felix caught you by the waist before squishing your cheeks with his palms.

“Ah, you’re back!” you exclaimed, looking into his eyes in a way that always made his heart stopped for a while. Felix wondered if you ever looked at anyone else the same way, but for now, he felt a bit reassured. You looked at him like he had stars in his eyes (in this case, his cheeks, but now they were all covered by whipped cream anyways), and at moments like this, Felix thought that maybe he wouldn’t lose you.

“I’m… back?”

You paused to step away from Changbin who wanted to ruin your face more before glancing back at him, still with that loving gaze Felix wanted to take a picture of and hang on his wall.

“The sparks,” you pointed at his eyes. “You’re happy again.”

The rest of the group turned to look at him better, and by the look on their faces, Felix knew they agreed with you.

Seoul, D-57

“Yongbok-ah, your Dad is calling!” Changbin shouted from the kitchen. Felix sighed, dragging his feet to where his phone was located. He didn’t need to answer the call to know what his father was going to say.

“Hi Dad.”

“Your Mum and I have talked. Are you serious with dancing?”

Changbin gave him a concerned look as Felix’s face hardened. “Yes,” he answered, firm and clear. “I have thought about everything, Dad. I want to dance. And I want to stay here.”

His father sighed on the other line, his Mum yelling something that sounded like, “That naïve boy knows nothing!”

“Have I ever disobeyed you before?” Felix argued. “I just want to do something that I love. That’s right, I was clueless when I first got here, but I’m not the same boy anymore. You guys can trust me.”

“I don’t know, son. You got good grades, why don’t you try challenging yourself?”

“Dancing is not easy, Dad.”

“We know that. Just, come home, okay? We’ll discuss this later.”

Felix let out a frustrated groan once the call ended. Changbin sat across him, opening a can of beer. “You know things won’t work out if you keep being like that, right?”

“Like what?”

“Like this. Snobbish and stubborn.”

Felix met his housemate’s eyes, biting his lips when he realized how serious Changbin’s eyes looked. “All you do is mopping around everywhere while you only have a few months to be here. Y/N and the others are trying to make you as happy as possible, and what have you done?”

“I never asked you guys to do any of that for me.” His tone was harsh and Felix regretted it as soon as those words slipped out of his month. Changbin got up from his seat, throwing the empty beer can to the trashcan.

“You’re right,” he answered. “You never asked anything but we did it anyways. Why? Because we think of you as our friend. Do you even realize how much Y/N has done for you?”

“It’s not my fault that I have to leave! It’s not my fault that I like Y/N, and it’s definitely not my fault that I can’t tell them that,” Felix challenged. Changbin shrugged, taking his jacket from the nightstand before walking out.

“None of this is your fault,” he agreed. “But acting like you’re the most unlucky person in the world and doing nothing to change that isn’t right either. Especially when feelings are involved. But you do you, man.”

When your name appeared on his phone screen, Felix wasn’t sure whether he wanted to cry in happiness or bang his head on the wall. He hadn’t seen you for weeks, and it wasn’t that he tried to avoid you, but he had been dancing any chance he got. He begged Minho to take him to every of his gig to observe, but after the second gig the dancer officially asked him to join his crew. But the truth was, he did kind of use it as a reason to reply to your messages late.

Felix had no idea how to face you and hid his feelings. Maybe he didn’t have to, but it would be unfair. He tried to ask Chan what to do, but his Sydney mate only said that all he needed to do was listen to himself. A very cliché, movie-like answer—although it wasn’t exactly wrong.

Another message from you came in, and as much as Felix wanted to make this easier for you (and him), he missed you a lot. So he replied, got out of his bed, and sprinted to your place.

“Can we order pizza?” he said as soon as you opened your door. You nodded, looking somehow surprised at his presence. “I thought you weren’t coming,” you mumbled, letting him in. Felix slipped into the pink slippers you specially prepared for him whenever he came over, and somehow, he felt like he was home.

“Where are the others?”

You plopped onto your beanbag, scrolling through movies on Netflix that had “zombie” in the titles. Felix took a seat beside you, watching you read the movies’ descriptions. “Jisung has a date—”

“Oh that’s surprising.”

You chuckled. “Changbin and Woojin are at work, Chan is busy composing for—wait. You didn’t read the group chat?”

Felix scratched the back of his head as if he had been caught. He hadn’t been really talking to any of his friends except Minho since his fight with Changbin. “I-I,” he stuttered. “Probably accidentally turned the notifs off.”

You frowned, but was quickly distracted as you finally found the movie you wanted to watch—which didn’t have any correlation to zombies. “I wanted to believe you, but I think you’re avoiding us. Am I right?”

The movie had started playing, but you shifted your gaze to him. “What’s wrong? Are you upset because we threw you a party when you said you didn’t one? Are you upset with me?”

Felix shook his head. “Not at all, but things have been pretty… complicated.”

“Mind to elaborate?”

“I’m leaving soon.”

“We’re fully aware of that, Felix.”

He ran his hand through his hair, desperately trying to form words that wouldn’t make him sound like an ungrateful asshole. “Yeah, it’s just—it’s hard. I want to stay, but—”

“Do you really want to stay?” you whispered, pausing the movie before giving him a stern look.

Felix felt his body burning—why was it so hard for you, Changbin, his other friends, and his parents to understand that he never wanted to leave? That he had found a new home which could be scary, but also beautiful?

“Oh God. First Changbin, now you. Why won’t anyone believe me?!”

You tried to blink your tears away, which broke Felix’s heart because he knew how much you hated crying in front of other people. “Because you’re not fighting for it, Felix! You’re not fighting for us or even yourself and suddenly I’m not sure about anything anymore. Time never slows down for anyone!”

Now you were sobbing, your head hung low. Felix threw his arms around you, rubbing your back slowly as you let out everything you had been holding in. You didn’t say anything for the rest of the night, not even when he said he would come over again later.

When Felix reached his aunt’s house at 2:48 AM, still wearing your pink slippers, it hit him. Out of all things he was afraid of, disappointing you was what he feared the most. Sadly, just like how this world worked, the one you were closest with was always the one whom disappointed you the most.

Felix had become that person for you, probably since a long time ago and he only realized it now. Tears started rolling down his cheeks, and before he could stop himself, he was already sobbing the way you did a few hours ago. He cried and cried and cried until his eyes felt dry and his throat felt raw.

He didn’t feel any better.

“You’re earl—wait what happened?!”

Minho panicked as he spotted Felix entering the dance studio with a camcorder and swollen eyes. The latter only shook his head and waved his camcorder. “Minho, can I record myself dancing for the rest of my time here?” he asked.

“Sure you can, we usually record ourselves anyways, but why?”

Felix smiled, turning on his camcorder and setting it next to Minho’s laptop before warming up. Minho joined him, and the stretching session soon turned into a flexibility showoff. Both of them laughed when Felix managed to do a perfect split and surprised himself.

“Seriously though, why are you doing this?” Minho repeated, waving to the camera.

“I want to stay here.”

Minho ran to his laptop to play a new song. “Isn’t that clear?” he teased, glancing at his friend.

“Yeah, but not clear enough.”

“Y/N I need to tell you something,” Felix rasped the moment you opened the door. You made a way for him to enter your flat, ignoring his Converse that he forgot to wear on his way out yesterday. Before he reached the living room, you stopped him. “Leave them in the bathroom, they’re dirty,” you said, pointing at your slippers he was wearing.

“I’m sorry,” Felix responded. “For the slippers, and for everything.” He stared at them before taking them off. “I didn’t want to disappoint you, but I did just that, didn’t I?”

Felix cupped your face, automatically wiping the corners of your eyes when he noticed you tearing up. “You were so bright, like these slippers,” he whispered. “I did everything with you, but forgot to take care of you. Too scared to show how much you mean to me. Now you’re even crying in front of me.”

“I didn’t want to say I love you because I was afraid that I wouldn’t be able to stay with you. I didn’t want you to be sad, but maybe I didn’t want me to be sad. I know this is too late and I’ve kept you waiting for so long, but I love you.”

“I really want to stay, I really want to be with the others, I really want to dance. And most importantly, I really want to be with you, and I’m going to do everything in my power to make that happen. I’m sorry that the fight with Changbin and you needed to happen before I came back to my senses, I’m—”

You caught his lips with your fingers, chuckling at how much he resembled a fish with his lips puckered. “If you’re sorry, wash the slippers yourself, okay?”

Felix whined, but walked towards the bathroom immediately. “Wait, there’s no ‘I forgive you Felix?’, ‘I love you too, Felix’, ‘Please stay with me, Felix’?” he protested, pouting as you returned to your room.

“Make sure to turn off the lights when you leave, Yongbok!”

Seoul, D-15

“Where’s the submit button?”

“There, bottom right.”

“Where?!”

“Goddamn it, Felix it’s right. there!”

Changbin grabbed the mouse from Felix and scrolled down, clicking the submit button. “Okay, it’s done!”

“Now what do we do?” Felix asked, plopping back to his bed. “The announcement for early admission is still two months away, I feel so empty now.”

“Still no words from your parents?”

“Well they said we’ll discuss this again if I get accepted.”

“What if you don’t?”

“I’ll apply again? The new semester won’t start until next year anyways.”

Felix had decided to apply to one of the most prestigious Arts colleges in Korea after recording all his dance practices and competitions (he only joined 2, but Minho was kind enough to let him be the center for all of them).

You opened the door with a loud bang, your eyes twinkled even brighter than usual. “What happened? Did they respond?” Changbin muttered, getting more excited as you nodded rapidly.

“Who responded to what?” Felix frowned, but both Changbin and you ignored him and were busy talking among yourselves. “They’re gonna tell him soon. We did it!” you shouted and pulled him into a tight hug.

“Guys, what’s going on?!”

You finally looked at Felix who looked lost and betrayed. Changbin punched his biceps with a huge grin on his face before leaving with no words. As soon as the door was shut, you jumped to his lap, curling your arms around his neck.

“Mind to tell me what’s making you so happy that you forgot about me and hugged Changbin instead?” he said, failed to keep his sarcastic tone since your eyes twinkled with so much joy he hadn’t seen for quite a long time.

You released him, running to his balcony—where you two often hung out when it wasn’t too cold or too hot. Felix followed you, taking your extended hand before pulling you into his arms. “Come on, babe,” he begged. “I’m dying here.”

“You’re going to stay here,” you stated, adjusting your position so you could look into his eyes. “Stay… where?” he asked, completely dumfounded.

“Here. With us.”

Felix tightened his hold on you as his legs wobbled. “WHAT?! HOW DO YOU KNOW THAT?”

You took out your phone from your pocket and played a video for him. “We took turns to record you during your last few months here, starting on your birthday. I thought that the only way to convince your parents that you love it here is by showing them.”

The video showed Felix on many occasions with you and his 8 friends; during his mournday party, during a movie night at Chan’s flat, during a dinner Felix’s aunt invited you to, during the random but entertaining dance battle with Minho, and also during a totally mundane afternoon with Changbin.

Felix knew he was happy with all of you, but he never realized he was that happy. He felt his eyes brim with tears when he got to the last part of the video, in which he played Charades with you on his birthday.

Felix was the happiest with you, and he never wanted to let go.

“How in the world did you guys do this?” he sniffled, pulling you back to his embrace. You pulled him even closer, listening to his heartbeat. “How in the world did you not notice?” you giggled. Felix laughed along with you, pressing a kiss on the top of your head.

“I asked your aunt to contact your parents, and they allowed me to send the video,” you explained. “They called me this morning and told me that you don’t need to go back.”

“They told you before they told me?”

You slapped his back. “We dedicated a masterpiece for you and this is your response?”

“Sorry,” Felix winced. “And thank you.”

Felix pulled away, melting as you smiled at him. “Well done.” You patted his hair. “You’ve practiced so hard, I’m proud of you.”

His heart clenched a little bit when you said that you were proud of him. That was exactly what he wanted to hear, but at the same time he wanted to hear more.

“And I love you.”

You gave Felix a quick peck on his lips and he desperately wanted to have your lips on his again, but he decided to stay still. You finally said that you loved him; that was all he needed to hear.

“You won’t ever have to doubt me anymore,” he said. “I’m not going to promise that I will never make you sad again, but I promise that I’ll always try my hardest for you. For us. I’m not going to hold back anymore, okay? Even if we’re running out of time.”

You were about to give him another peck, but he stopped you. “Speaking about time, will you tell me about the hourglass pendant you gave me? Can you tell me what it means now?”

Felix showed his phone to you, causing you to yelp when you found out that he had removed the said pendant from the original keyring and attached it to his phone instead. “Well, you’ve said it yourself,” you began. “I didn’t expect you to know what it means because it feels so personal.”

“Hourglass represents time, a reminder for us that time doesn’t stop for anyone, that everyone in this world has limited time. Time will catch up on us; we’ll run out of time and die, but I don’t care about that. Our time is limited, and I want to spend my limited time with you.”

“Is there anything else you want to say?” Felix asked after you stopped talking.

“Why?”

“I want to listen anything you say about time with that pretty voice of yours, but I also really want to kiss you.”

“Oh alright, kiss me then. But tell them to close the curtain first, please.”

Felix darted his eyes to the window, perplexed when he saw all of his friends standing there watching him and you. “No way!” Seungmin shouted, lifting his phone. “We have to show your parents this!” Hyunjin and Minho whistled along with the rest of the boys, causing Felix to hide his face on the crook of your neck.

“I was the one editing the video and I have many clips of your ugly faces that I won’t hesitate to post,” you threatened, still with a sweet smile on your face. The boys groaned, letting Chan drag them outside.

You caressed your boyfriend’s hair while he was muttering about how embarrassed he was. “You were acting so cool a few minutes ago, wanting to kiss me and all. Where did that Felix go?”

He lifted his head, his cheeks still a bit flushed. “Do you still want me to talk with this pretty voice of mine or—”

As soon as Felix captured your lips with his, everything that happened the past few months didn’t matter anymore. You were right there in his arms, mumbling about how you doubted that this was his first kiss because he was “so damn good in this.” His heart felt light and warm, and while he knows that this was only the beginning, he wasn’t afraid.

Felix was finally ready to confront time, to make every second of it worth the pain.

more a/n: if you’ve reached this part, congratulations and thank you, as always! i’m sorry if felix can be so frustrating here, but that’s the whole point of this story: to allow him learn and grow from his mistakes.

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swankymikehanlon-blog · 6 years

Text

The Losers: Always and Forever

Chapter One Chapter Two(Part One) Chapter Two(Part Two)

7 teenagers, of different high school backgrounds, would rather die than become a breakfast club 2.0. At least, that was the thought initially.

Words: 37,693

Warnings: None

Chapter 3: I Still Believe

Tuesday, September 26, 10:23 a.m

“STANLEY MOTHERFUCKING URIS!”

Stan’s head banged the desk above him and small muffled groan fell from his lips. Richie Tozier strolled into the vacant classroom, boots clanking along the worn down marble. Stan got out from under the desk, rubbing his temple as he glared at Richie.

“So, what were you doing under the table, giving ghost head?” Richie jumped up on the desk in front of Stan, randomly pulling out an apple from the chest pocket of his jacket and taking an obnoxiously loud bite. His feet kicked the air, closely to Stan’s face in a teasing manner.

“No, I was looking for something.” Stan got up from the floor, tucking the chair back in it’s place. Richie took another bite as Stan leaned against the opposite table.

“So I’m guessing this is our new place since we can’t continue our rituals behind the school.” Richie propelled himself off the desk as he hurled the apple into the black trashcan the sat next to the open door. He strolled to the whiteboard, picking up a blue marker and began to write more than inappropriate things on the board.

Stan snorted as he stood next to Richie. His fingers draped over the metal bar which held more markers. Since the door was open, the thought of any authority walking in paranoid the shit out of Stan.

“Hey Stan, look it’s your dick!” Stan’s attention was drawn towards the doodle of a small limp ‘Rick and Morty’ pickle. Stan rolled his eyes as he rubbed his palm over the drawing, smudging it completely.

“My masterpiece.” Richie’s shoulders shrugged, dramatically, as Stan took the marker and drew the sketch of an odd...duck...with glassess?

“If that’s supposed to be me, I’m not even mad about it.” Stan smiled as he gave the duck a leather jacket.

“So are you gonna wear glasses from now on or are you just getting paid to look the opposite of cool?” Richie mocked a shocked expression and released a surprised scoff. Stan stepped back from his masterpiece and admired it, complimenting himself on the detail he put into the jacket, placing the pins of Richie’s jacket into their respective places.

“Everyday, I get prouder and prouder of you, my prodigy.” Richie put his hand in the air and waited for a high five that would come after a few minutes of awkward silence. They both sat there, reading the amount of profanity that was written on the board, courtesy of Richie’s creative hand.

“I got detention again.” Stan’s face palm echoed through the classroom and made Richie scrunch his face.

Tuesday, September 26, 10:30 a.m

Ben had a hop in his step, a bright glow on his cheeks as he walked down the mildly crowded hallway. There wasn’t a particular pinpoint of his sudden burst of happiness but it seemed to spread to everyone as he greeted them with a toothy grin. His face was beaming with something Derry High, Derry in general, hadn’t seen in a while. True happiness. As he walked past the gym he heard a faint whistle and soft rumbles of bodies whacking the floor. Ben stopped, curiosity and concern molding his facial features as he looked through the door window.

Inside the gym there was a group of boys and the P.E teacher. Two boys were fighting each other on a thick mat, as the others watched with studying eyes. Ben absentmindedly opened the gym door and walked in, now a few feet away from the commotion. He only realized he was in the gym when Mr. DeVou snapped his fingers.

“Ben, what are you doing here?” Ben swallowed the lump in his throat shock and confusion coating his face. The rest of the boys looked at him weirdly and Ben felt a blush rise over his cheeks.

“Oh, um, I-I’m sorry, I-I don’t-”

“Do you wanna try out?” Ben looked at Mr. DeVou with even more confusion. He didn’t even know what he was doing here, let alone something like ‘try out’.

“Try out what? Sir...” Ben pressed his fingers into the straps of his backpack, anxiety creeping up his spine. He tried not to notice the whispers coming from the boys standing behind Mr. DeVou but the way they looked at each other and at him with apparent discuss made him want to jump out a window.

“Well, this is Wrestling tryout’s son, you wanna try?” Ben opened his mouth in an an ‘O’ shape as he puzzled the pieces together. The mat plus two boys fighting each other made sense. But Ben grew hot in the open gym and excused himself, leaving a snickering group of boys and a disappointing Mr. DeVou. Ben came out of the gym with a grim face. He came into school happy, glad to be there, now all he wanted to was cry in his bed.

He walked to the bathroom where the insecurities got the best of him. His face was beet root red, tears streaming down the sides of his face. He didn’t know why he was so emotional. Like his happiness, he couldn’t quite pinpoint the origin. Maybe it was the whispers, the looks, the secret pointing at the gut the spilled over the khaki shorts he wore. Maybe it was all three, and maybe the main reason was because he was just Ben. Ben Hanscom, the fat-ass that roams the halls looking for love like the Hunch-Back of Notre-Dam. He hated the names and taunts that had been giving to him. He hated that he agreed with them even more.

Tuesday, September 26, 11:00 a.m

Mike picked at his lunch, ham sandwich looking ever so appetizing. His friends laughed at some stupid joke someone had told. They all sat at one table, even though their where only six chairs, some sacrificed their legs and ate standing up. Mike had never had to sand up, he’d kill them if they made him. After all, he is their captain, and everything he says, they do. But lately, Mike wasn’t feeling his whole roll as the self-entitled jock that everyone thought he was.

“Mikey, you haven’t spoke one word today, you doing alright?” Kenny, a guy straight out of ‘Grease’ the movie said through a mouthful of overly chewed food. Mike rolled his eyes as Kenny giggled, spewing a few chucks of mystery meat on the table.

“Gross, Kenny.”

“Anyway, Mike, you sure you okay, I mean you barely touched your food.” Chris nudged Mike’s leg with his own as he pointed to the stale tray of sopposedly edible food.

“I never eat the ham sandwiches, and I’m a vegan, remember.” Mike flicked a piece of ham at Kenny’s face but it was deflected by his hand. His friends dismissed the topic as they started talking about Friday’s game. They were going to go up against a school called Hawkins High, a high school that wasn’t even in their district. Mike heard they were good, but not as good as his team.

“We’re totally gonna pawn their asses!” Kenny managed to scruff even more food down as he fist pumped the table. Hoots and hollers erupted from the rowdy football players as they continued to eat. Mike drifted out from the conversation, cafeteria tray pushed away completely as his looked over his healing fist.

They were purple and blue, discoloration around the outlines of his knuckles and did in fact hurt like a bitch. He had to be delicate with his hands for however long, which was difficult since football required your hands for everything. As he toyed felt the mismatching colors Eddie walked into the cafeteria with a metal lunch box in hand. His small footsteps would sound like pin drops if the room was silent, but for now they were just one of the many sounds of lunch B.

He passed by Mike’s table, heart beat picking up Mike watched him. It felt like forever when he got to the empty table. Sure enough his face was red, hands definitely a little clammy. Even though Bill rarely talked all Eddie wanted was for Bill to be sitting right in front of him, engaging in the comfortable silence of eating lunch.

Eddie opened his lunch box, taking out a container filled with fruit and opened it, odor of mandarins filling the air and wafting into his nose. He hadn’t notice that someone had finally sat in front of him, watching him eat the baby oranges with content.

“Hey Eds.”

Eddie chocked on one mandarin, citrus hitting the back of his throat and burning. Eddie slammed his fork down, startling himself and Mike in the process. Mike reached over to pat Eddie’s shoulder but Eddie leaned back, almost falling over the stool that he sat on.

“Mi-MIKE! H-HI!” Eddie’s voice was unnecessarily loud and high which made Mike chuckle. Eddie felt tears gather in his eyes, due to the burning sensation of his throat and because he just choked on a fucking mandarin in front of Mike Hanlon. Mike waited moments, hands plunged in the pockets of his varsity jacket, smile plastered on his attractive features.

“I have a question, If that’s fine with you...” Rather than ask what the whole ordeal that just occurred, Mike changed the subject, which Eddie was grateful for. Eddie nodded his head for Mike to go on, throat recovering from the brutal assault of the harsh juice. It was most likely going to be sore for a little while but Eddie didn’t really pay mind to that. He somehow turned off the switch that helped him listen and dumbly stared at Mike’s mouth, specifically the way they moved slow then fast all in one second.

“So are you?” Eddie blinked, unsure of Mike just asked. They slowly opened, wide, once Eddie realized Mike was asking him something very important. On a whim Eddie said ‘Sure’. Mike’s mouth broke into a full grin, teeth and all as he stood up.

“Great, I’ll pick you up after my game, unless you wanna come see? Or did you already plan to go?” Eddie was 100% confused. What just happened, why was Mike gonna pick him up, he doesn’t go to football games, what is happening.

“Um, pick me up?...”

“Great, do you mind if I get your number, I can send you the details.” Mike walked over to Eddie’s side and pulled out his phone. It was cased in a protective phone case, color black with gold accents around the rim of the camera. Eddie was in a haze, still confused and plane out bewildered when he stated his number out of the blue.

“Cool. Can’t wait for Friday.” Mike smiled once more before he joined his friends in the middle of cafeteria and disappeared in the heap of large boys. Eddie let out a huge gust of air that he hadn’t realized he had been holding in. Did he just get asked on a date. They only logical thing that made sense for ‘I’ll pick you up after my game’ was a date. Eddie’s mood quickly went through the five stages of grief, but all stages were denial.

Once Mike was back at his table, Kenny and Chris hyped him up, asking questions and making kissy noises.

“MIKEY BOY’S GOT A CRUSH! HE’S IN LOVE-”

“Can it Kenny.” Mike took a hold of Chris’s water bottle and took a gigantic gulp, before throwing it at Kenny’s temple.

“For a nice guy Hanlon, you sure do love throwing stuff.”

Tuesday, September 26, 12:57 p.m

Beverly was bored out of her mind. Her class had a substitute, an old lady who seemed to always forgot what grade she was teaching and somehow the year they were in. Luckily the substitute plans were basically to watch the rest of the documentary over human evolution they had began long time ago. It was obvious no one was paying attention, by the tired look son their faces or the direction of their eyes towards their laps indicated that they didn’t care. It went the same for Bev, though she wasn’t tired nor typing away at her phone. She was rather tapping her nails on the wooden desk, music from deep inside her head drowning out the audio of the documentary.

It was one of her favorites, the only song that seemed to play at Ophelia’s when she worked. Oh yes, Ophelia’s, the hidden dinning gem in downtown Derry. Yesterday, her first shift of the week had took a turn, for the better. Mike Hanlon had randomly walked in fro directions but simply stepped for one of the best vegan burgers. It was a surprise to see another teenager in the dinner, rarely had a younger person like Beverly walked in. Initially Mike hadn’t walked in for food, but he did leave with some, ordering another vegan burger to go.

She recalls talking about this week’s game against Hawkins High, a school that had only been mentioned to her once, through a friend from middle school. Jenny? Jene? June? Something that started with a J, she knew that for sure.

As the substitute snores filled the classroom, Beverly’s stomach grumbled, roaring like Godzilla in her ears. She had eaten lunch, if you count peanuts and a Dr Pepper as food. But that had always been the lunch she took, either that, or bags filled with protein nuts or granola bars. She hadn’t always been fond of eating lunch, weird, yes, but she had been a dinner person. Always having at least three plates full of food for herself, curtosey of Ophelia’s employee discount. Discount meaning completely free. It was quite a curios thing that Beverly never seemed to gain weight after eating three greasy hamburgers.

Maybe she burned it off during gym, running those miles every Thursday did help. She had always been a fast runner, always ahead of everyone in her class, surprising most of the jerks in there. She’s outraced a couple of them more than once, shutting them up for a good while. There’s a group of girls in the class that praise her every time she does and it really shocks her to realize she has a mini fan club. Once she was asked to sign a girls ‘Equal Right’s’ shirt. She gladly did, commenting on the amazing shirt as well. The bell rung, dismissing her out of her own thoughts, forcing her to get up and stretch out the uncomfortable build up in her spine.

Walking out of the class, she fell in step with students, brushing against speeding freshmen to get to their classes. She didn’t have a third period, credits practically achieved all in her junior year, so when the warning bell sounded, she wasn’t alarmed. Walking pass the library she caught site of someone who looked very familiar. Ben sat in the middle desk, alone, as he skimmed over a rustic looking book. He looked calm, at peace. Staring at him for a second longer, Beverly contemplated going into the library but decided against it as she caught sight of Richie exiting the school through the back doors.

“Hey Rich!” Beverly followed after Richie as they made it outside. Richie skidded to a stop as he turned around and greeted Beverly with a solemn smile. He uttered a ‘hey’ and turned around again, making his way around the building. Beverly sighed, feeling obligated to follow Richie, though at the moment Richie wanted her to be anyone else.

“Where ya’goin?” Beverly watched as Richie shuffled onto his motorcycle. Classic Richie.

“To bang your sister.” Beverly rolled her eyes, internally cheesing at the joke Richie made, jokes which he usually made. For the moment, it seemed Richie didn’t hold any resentment towards her and she felt glad, but she knew Richie was hurting. Every sad smile directed towards her, ever shift of eyes she was around, it was clear she hurt Richie. Right in the heart.

“Ha. Ha. Funny.” Beverly stood closer to Richie now, happiness growing larger now. Richie noticed the closeness and started the engine, fist gripping the break hard, feet digging into the pavement.

“Listen Bev, I know all we had was F.W.B, but I don’t think I’m ready to talk one on one like friends, okay. See you around.” Richie sped away, right in front of Beverly, stabbing the small amount of happiness that radiated through her once full heart. ‘That was a complete bust’. She spoke out loud to no one but herself. She didn’t want to blame herself, she really didn’t but in all honesty the reason she felt like crap was because she ended things like it was crap. Her and Richie weren’t crap, they weren’t even close to it. Although it had been a physical relationship only, Beverly knows that it was the closest thing to intimate Richie had gotten in a while. And to end it out of the blue made her feel like the worst kind of human being.

Leaning against the brick wall, she popped a piece of bubble gum into her mouth, feeling the rays of heat from the sun hit her freckled face. She stood there for a moment, tasting the flavor of rich bubblegum before walking back inside.

Tuesday, September 26, 2:03 p.m

Bill sat on the stool, paint brush carefully sweeping across the canvas with a light blue streak. He was thinking, carefully, tongue etched on the outskirts of his mouth, so gently as he pressed into the canvas and let go. It caused a drip effect, exactly what he wanted. Well, what he wanted at the moment, he couldn’t really tell where his painting would go. Right now it could turn into an ocean, with waves that ripple like marbles over a glossy floor. Or he could paint a brisk morning in the woods with snow covering each and individual tree.

He hadn’t decided what he was doing, he never did. It was always improve with his paintings, whatever music played or whatever he felt would guide him to create masterpieces. He had a headphone in one ear and a paintbrush in the other. The clear palette hung around his thumb and laid on his forearm as he took the white paint and smeared it with the blue, creating a milky soft sky color. He switched the paint brush in his hand to the one from his hear and began highlighting the edges of the canvas.

It was his free period, but he wasn’t alone, many other art seniors came into the room and painted, speaking to no one. He had been coming here since freshman year, being intimidated by the skilled seniors from the time. But having a detailed and creative hand from a young age earned him respect. Today it had been lonelier than usual, it was just him and two other students, who got their things and left, now only leaving Bill in the quiet classroom.

The canvas now covered in thin and thick lines of soft blue, inking the first draft of his painting. He made the choice of painting snow as he dipped his paint brush in the white and creating the outline of clumps of snow. His dominant hand had freckled of paint scattered everywhere, as well as his overalls. His overalls had already been stained countless of times by many primary colors, but now it was painted with light blue dots. He only noticed he got some on his face when someone spoke to him.

“You have some on your face.” The voice scared Bill, making him almost drop the palette on the floor. It was Stan, an amused expression on his face. Bill looked at Stan for a solid minute before looking away, shyly as he put the brush down and tried to brush the drying paint off. Stan lifted his hand, feeling it freeze int he middle of the air, slowly going back to it’s place besides his thigh, but he found himself reach over and rubbing the paint off. He noticed the reddening of Bill’s soft cheeks, imagining his own cheeks, as he pulled his hand away. Stan felt what he just did was stupid, hating himself for making the gesture of rubbing paint off of a boy’s face.

“Uh, Bye.” Stan exited the classroom, leaving a confused, but in love intrigued Bill. His face felt hot, especially the spot where Stan’s cold hands touched. He trashed the painting he was working on before Stan came in and began to paint the figure of a boy. He had curly hair, and a face of an angel. It seemed to only be minutes for his artwork to be finished. It was full of colors, reds, blues, oranges, yellows, you name it. He drew a literal angel that resembled a boy too much. He sat there, admiring the work that seemed to come to life every time he moved. He memorized every detail that found its way on the canvas and fell in love. He drew Stan, a boy he had just met. He drew a boy he really liked.

Tuesday, September 26, 3:23 p.m

Mike hated that this particular day was hotter than hell. He also hated the fact that some dumbass got the whole team in trouble. Currently they were being punished, running suicides down and back the field. The worst running exercise activity ever, don’t even try to argue. His feet burned through the fabric of his Nike’s, toes digging in the tip of the shoes. He was one of the few left that kept going, most of them throwing up last night’s dinner on the grassy ground.

He continued, used to the extreme punishment ordered by Coach. He was almost done, final run just a few feet away. Coach’s whistle blew and Mike felt his feet trip over themselves, causing him to fall to the ground. Laughs came from the sidelines, Kenny’s obnoxious laugh making Mike’s ears bleed.

“HANLON IS DOWN FOR THE COUNT!” Chris runs over and lays on the ground next to Mike and pretends to do a referee slam. Mike playfully kicks at Chris’s side as he gets up and rubs the grass off his shirt. Coach laughs as they jog back, others following suit.

“Boys, what do we have this we-”

“HAWKIN’S GONNA GT THEY’ASSES BEAT!” Kenny jumps on another players his, piggy back riding him as others yell in agreement. Coach only sighed and nodded as he folded his arms around each other. Mike smirked as Kenny jumped on another unsuspecting person, pulling both of them down.

“Jesus, Kenny, can you not be a total Alex for a second?” Alex was a senior that used to go to Derry. He was basically Kenny but 10x worse. He was the class clown, everyone either loved him or hated him, there was no in between. Mike remembered the rivalry between Kenny and Alex in junior year to be the funniest, attention hog of the school. So when Alex’s father got moved to Minnesota, of all places, for a job offer, Kenny declared himself the winner.

“Yes, we are, but doesn’t mean there work won’t be done.” Everyone including Mike groaned but listened to what else coach had to say. Mike drifted off to another place though. Earlier at Lunch he had asked Eddie to a movie. It really wasn’t his intention, he only wanted to ask how Eddie’s day was going. But when Eddie looked like he was in his own little world, Mike got a chance to look at all the little things he hadn’t seen before. How he had faint freckles under his eyes, lips had lines that resembled tree ringlets due to dryness. But he also noticed how he really wanted to hang out with Eddie, outside of school. So the words came out of his mouth before he could stop.

“So you and Eddie huh?” Chris wrapped his arm around Mike’s shoulders, leading them to the locker room. Mike snorted as he opened the door and let himself in.

“It’s not a date.” Mike made his way to his locker as Chris followed, in the process of mocking Mike.

“Would you like to go to the movies with me? It’ll be totally platonic, I’ll only stare at your lips and think of your neck as the good part of the movie starts.” Chris imitated Mike, spot on. Mike took off his shirt and threw it at Chris who laughed as he caught it.

“So what, he’s cute. Doesn’t mean I wanna get in his pants.” Mike opened his locker and took out deodorant.

“Hold on, is that woman’s deodorant?”

“It smells nice okay.” Mike took out his regular school shirt and put it in as Chris walked away, throwing the workout shirt into the locker over his head. It wasn’t a date, no way. Mike was just being nice, Eddie was a cool person, sweet, charismatic, kind...

“Shit.”

It was a date. He concluded that as he walked out and typed the information out in text. He sent it with out a thought, eyes bulging at the comment he added;

Wear whatever you’d like, you look great in everything ;)

What kind of text message was that. Mike wanted to punch himself in the face. This was now definitely a date, the winky face just confirmed it. As if his presence didn’t give Eddie a heart attack the text would. Well, now that the deed had been done, all that was left was to go through with it.

Tuesday, September 26, 3:59 p.m

“Listen man, cut me some slack, you know I’m not a bad kid.” Richie stood against the gas station counter, hands pressed against the newspaper covered surface. He came to the cash register, a soda and chips was all he wanted to buy. Plus a pack of of new cigs, but that was minor detail.

“You don’t have enough money to buy all three, you can either buy the chips and drink or the cigarettes.” The man behind the counter counted the money in the cash register, not really paying attention to Richie’s slik hand. Pretending to yawn, Richie reached behind his head and into his shirt, dropping the pack of cigarettes along his spine and to the crack of ass. Thank god his shirt was tucked in, otherwise the cigarettes would have fallen straight to the floor.

“You know what, fine, I’ll take the ships and soda.” Richie pulled out a five dollar bill and handed it to the man, grimacing when it was yanked away from his hand. Smiling a smile too sweet, Richie walked out quickly, relieved when the usual alarms didn’t go off. OPening the soda, he took a sip, nodding his head to a song he began to sing.

“Oh, I still believe.” Mimicking the instrumental saxophone part in Tim Capello’s iconic song ‘I Still Believe’. Now standing in front of his motorcycle, Richie placed the soda on the seat and dug out the cartoon box from his shirt.

“We need all the hope. WE CAN GET!” Richie belted out, shame just a word to him. He didn’t care that people stared at him as they filled their cars with gas. He actually pointed to them as he sang the verse over and over again, scaring a couple of them as he voiced a saxophone yet again. Drinking the soda in one go, he let out a loud burp and stuffed the chips in his pocket jacket before starting his motorcycle and driving home.

His house was empty, parents gone, off to work or off to an affair. Most likely the second one, Richie has seen hickies on his parents necks before and he knew for a fact that they didn’t give them to each other. But he didn’t really care, nothing would be different, he already lived alone. Throwing the cigarettes across the kitchen counter he took off his boots, struggling a little bit, but sighing as he free his feet. Plugging his phone into the kitchen speaker, he played his music, blasting it through the house. It was Gorrilaz, bass acting as if there was a party.

Drumming along, he walked over to the living room, picking up random laundry here and there. Going to the laundry room he threw them in a basket that was over-filled with dirty clothes, mostly Richie’s. He rolled his eyes, remembering that he had to do the laundry soon because no one else ever did. The song changed so something he hadn’t ever heard of but quickly loved it as it played longer. Toying with the pins on his jacket, Richie walked back to the kitchen and pressed his torso against the flat, cold, surface of the island. His face was cooled by it and he slowly fell asleep.

Tuesday, September 26, 4:15 p.m

Ben was the last out of his class, second to last being some random girl who fell asleep and was only awoken when Ben nudged her. She muttered a thank you as she walked out of class, slightly still out of it. Ben said goodbye to Mrs. Kepp and walked the empty halls. The students of Derry high always seemed to lave school quickly, never made an effort to stay and chat with friends. As Ben was reaching the door to freedom, Mr. DeVou spoke up from out of the blue.

“Ben!” He turned around to see Mr. DeVou walking towards him with excitement. Ben sighed, ready to be told off from what happened earlier in the day.

“So you wanna try out for the team?”

“The what sir?” Ben wasn’t expecting what Mr. DeVou had asked. He was obviously talking about the wrestling team but the question shocked Ben to no end. Mr. DeVou? Wants someone like Ben? To wrestle? What kind of universe-

“Yeah, you seem like you’d be a good fit!” Ben looked at Mr. DeVou with a questioning brow. Ben thought about it, wrestling did sound fun. But the more he thought about it, the more he thought it was a bad idea.

“Oh Mr. DeVou, i don’t think I’d be good-”

“You never know son, not unless you try. The next tryout is Thursday, will I see you there?” Mr. DeVou said in a voice that only meant ‘Be There or else’. With a single sigh Ben said ‘Sure’ and was left in the hallway alone. He now sat in the drivers seat of his jeep, engine on, hands clasped around the wheel, yet the car hadn’t moved for a complete ten minutes.

“What did I get myself into.” Ben dropped his head on the steering wheel, temple hitting the middle of the wheel, a honk following. His head stayed there for a good minute before he pulled out the driveway and drove home.

Tuesday, September 26, 4:30 p.m

Beverly turned on her closet lite, kicking off her shoes and unbuttoning her jeans. Yawning, she un-tucked her collared shirt and hung it up, grabbing her work outfit. Shrugging her jeans off, she sat on her bed, feeling of tiredness reaching her eyes. Her shift didn’t start until 5:30, but Ophelia’s was nearly 20 minutes away and there was always traffic around five so she technically had to leave around 4:50. There was always a bus that dropped off after school activities kids and it would take her to Ophelia’s since it was on the way of their bus drop off.

Pulling on her outfit, she went over to her vanity and touched up her face. Picking a light red she applied it to her chapped lips, accidentally over lining her natural lips. Fixing it with her pinkie her phone buzzed. She picked it up, smiling at her friends text.

Wanna go to Friday’s game and make fun of Hawkins?

She typed back a thumbs up emoji and finished checking herself out in the mirror. Taking out her wallet from her bag she attached a leather piece of string around the punched in metal hole to make a make-shift wristlet. Running a hand through her short hair she jumped down the stairs, putting on her heels that laid on the last step.

She heard the engine of her father’s rickety car and felt her shoulders drop down. She tried to make her way to the front without having to interact with him but he mt her at the door.

“Hello Bevvy.” His voice was low, smelled like complete shit and beer. She had to refrain herself from clamping her nose with her fingers.

“Hi dad. I’m on my way to work, I’m gonna be late.” Thinking he was going to grab her arm she quickly walked down the street and stood by the pole, hiding herself from her father’s stare. She wasn’t sure if her father still stood outside but she didn’t care as the bus strolled up and released the kids of the street. If he was watching her he should have lost her in the crowd of kids. Sitting in the farthest seat down from the driver she made eye contact with her father, who was still standing outside. Sinking into her seat she closed her eyes and waited to be taken to Ophelia’s.

Tuesday, September 26, 5:10 p.m

Bill took the painting home, hiding it from his parents as he passed them on his way to his room. He would die if they saw what he had drew, the way the lips of Stan were drawn so delicate, or the flowers in his hair. It may just be a painting, but his parents were very observant. Bill wasn’t ready for them to question him yet. Gerogie followed, asking what it was, repiditley.

“What’ya paint, what’ya paint, what’ya paint-”

“Georgie.” Bill laid the painting on his bed, making sure Georgie would go up and grab it. This was a daily thing, whenever Bill brought home a painting or a sketch, Georgie would pester him and try to see what he drew.

“But Bill, I wanna see!” Georgie tried to slap Bill’s hand out of the way but Bill was faster and picked him up off the ground before he could.

“Nice t-t-try, but n-no.” Bill carried Georgie into his room, throwing him onto the plush bed filled of stuff animals. Bill walked out, accidentally stepping on a lego turtle and yelling in pain. Georgie zoomed passed him and onto Bills bed. Bill raced behind him but was too late and was mortified to see Georgie staring at the painting of Stan. Bill closed his room door, hands out in front of him to brace them against Georgie’s mouth if he outed him.

“He’s beautiful.” Georgie angled his head to get a better look and all Bill could do was sigh. Taking a hold of the painting ge opened the closet and placed it deep in the corners of it, where other personal drawings laid dormant.

“You cant tell mom or dad.” Bill walked over to his bed and fell down on the comforter along with Georgie who found his way on top of Bill’s chest. With a small voice Georgie asked “Why not?”

“Because th-they don’t l-l-like it when I d-d-draw stuff like th-that.” Bill suddenly got sad, overwhelming sensation of his parents finding the painting plaguing his mind. Georgie lifted his head and looked at Bill directly in his eyes. Georgie’s eyes held wonder, curiosity, acceptance. Something his parent’s eyes didn’t hold.

“How can they not like something so beautiful?” Georgie now sat up, arms crossed over each other in slight frustration. Bill smiled sadly and pulled Georgie to lay next to him. Waiting a moment, trying to come up with a good response he shrugged and said

“I d-d-don’t know Georgie. Georgie, I don’t know.” Bill caressed the side of Georgie’s face as they laid there in peaceful silence.

Tuesday, September 26, 6:30 p.m

Stan ate in silence, the only sound he made was technically not even him, it was the clanking of his spoon on the dinner plate. His mother and father ate in silence as well, occasionally looking at each other and looking away. This was the only constant thing his family did. Eat in silence and act like their family is the perfect, normal family. They weren’t, they weren’t even a family. They just happened to three people living under the same household. Sometimes Stan thought his parents were divorced and lived under the same roof for the sake of him. But it always hurt him to know that they chose to live like this. They chose to live hostile, cold.

“Have you been practicing Stan?” His father cut deep into the rotisserie chicken his mother had bought at the store yesterday. Hey ate one piece, scuffing it down with a drink of cranberry juice, Stan’s least favorite drink. His mother finished her salad, something she always did before she engaged in her actual meal. Stan nodded, slowly, hoping to convince the man of the house. He hadn’t been practicing, he couldn’t recall the last time he opened the thick Torah. His father didn’t say anything more and went back to the eating, fork stabbing the plate entirely now.

“I’m not that hungry anymore, and I have a lot of homework, may I be excused?” Stan let go of his utensils, skidding the chair out from under the table. He waited for his parent’s approval and got up when his father nodded. He nodded, showing a sign of respect towards him and gave his mother a chaste kiss on the temple. She didn’t react, she never does, and continued to eat corn off the plate in dainty bites. Opening his bedroom door was like opening the gates of the north pole. It was always so chilling in his room, the temperature never went higher than a 70. It was a miracle he never got sick. Closing the door behind him, Stan crawled on his bed and pulled out his phone. Obviously he didn’t have homework, he just needed an excuse to get away from his parents.

Opening his phone with his thumbprint he clicked on the Spotify icon. Before he could press play on a song he noticed a blue marking on the inside of his palm. He examined it, picking carefully at the dried paint. He remembered what happened at school, how his fingers brushed over Bill’s face, transferring the solid color to his own skin, and running away as if Bill burned him. Smiling he pressed his hand to his own face, closed his eyes, and thought about the sky and its clouds.

While Stan daydreamed, Eddie sat on his bed, crossed legged, freaking out over a text message. His mother was still working, so he was currently alone. Which in a way was better than having to explain to his mother why he was going on a date with a football player. Yes, it was a date, it was confirmed. Well the actual text message never said the four letter word, but from the winky face and the perfectly put together compliment, Eddie could tell that it was one. It was only Tuesday and Eddie had already raided his closet in search for something nice to wear. He had to admit, he never did have the best fashion sense, always either wearing shorts that seemed to short or graphic tee’s that a mother of 6 would always wear.

He finally may of found something decent, a grey sweater, really more of a cardigan, but a cover nothing less. Throwing it on his bed he searched for a shirt, deciding a simple white t-shirt would be the best. Grabbing a pair of jeans he didn’t even know he had, he tried the whole ensemble on, surprising himself with how good the outfit looked. He looked presentable, minus the frustrated style his hair wore. This was the outfit, hands down. He looked good in it, at east he thought he looked good in it. Would Mike think it look good?

Groaning, Eddie plummeted to the bed, face hitting the sheets first. He laid there for a little bit, reminiscing on all the events that lead up to Mike asking him out to the movies. They had talked before detention, he had helped him in Chemistry before. Once, Mike helped him carry his history project to the classroom, getting a tardy slip but muttering a ‘It was worth it’ for only Eddie to hear. The longest time he and Mike ever talked was yesterday, along with the rest of the losers club. The Losers Club. What a great name, a solid, a-1 name. Lifting his head to breathe, Eddie took his phone and looked back at the text message Mike sent hours ago. He didn’t respond, to afraid to send something that would look desperate. But he did realize leaving him on read was really rude so he typed out a ‘Great!’ and sent it without second thought.

Right after he sent, the three grey dots appeared and went away, all in one second. Eddie paused, bile rising in his throat at the sight of Mike texting. Did he come off to strong, was the exclamation mark too much. When Eddie was about to throw his phone into the wall, Mike sent back a winky face. A. Fucking. Winky face. The whole bane of Eddie’s problems was smiling at him on a digital screen. Mike was going to kill Eddie, no doubt. But what if Eddie sent a winky face back...

Tagged: @shittystorms @asteroidbill @finnwollfhards @hazedlover @chirpchirpstanley @rose-minds

Hey, I’m a horrible person and haven’t updated in forever. In all honesty, I was loosing inspiration in this fic, but now that I’m writing it again, It’s coming back. I’m not gonna say when the next update is because I don’t trust myself with due dates. :)

#it 2017 #the losers club #the losers:always and forever #mike hanlon #eddie kaspbrak #richie tozier #stan uris #bill denbrough #beverly marsh #ben hanscom #kasplon #hanbrak #meddie #stenbrough #benverly #beverie

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sapphicscholar · 7 years

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Chapter Text:

By that afternoon, the Metropolis branch of the consulting firm had been transformed. Alex’s lab’s cupboards had been filled, courtesy of a few overnight orders, and the offices, while not bustling yet, filled with a steady stream of people—all thanks to Kate’s quick reassignment of some of her employees not on missions, along with a few of the new recruits who were there to act as new hires—some fresh blood for the company. They’d outfitted the offices with enough technology to ensure that anyone from Cadmus who came or went would be recorded.

Maggie came in early that morning and forced herself to pull out the best that Maria’s wardrobe had to offer. Over the past couple of weeks with Alex, she’d let herself relax—not enough to compromise her identity, but enough that she’d ditched Maria’s stilettos and silk for skinny jeans and boots. Today, though, she and Alex decided that Sam needed to see them as exactly the kind of people she thought she knew. So Maggie spent the morning cursing under her breath as she snagged a first pair of pantyhose, tripped while trying to multitask in Louboutins, and shivered when the first gust of late autumn air sent a chill across her bare legs on her walk to the car.

Meanwhile Alex had let herself get comfortable in the black jeans and hoodies she’d found filling Cat’s closet that first day and pumped up her bike tires, pulling on some of the warmer winter attire J’onn had mailed to her before throwing her bike up on her shoulder and trudging down the stairs and out into the cold air. When she found herself winded halfway to work, she made a mental note to do a better job of keeping up with her fitness. Apparently no amount of sex quite made up for the rigors of sparring back at the DEO and long runs in a city where the weather was at least considerate enough to stay above 50.

By lunch, Alex had managed to get a few formulas from Cat’s past projects scratched across whiteboards and had a couple of tests running that she hoped would distract Sam from the distinct lack of new research happening.

“Cat, wanna come meet the new hires?” Maggie called from the doorway of Alex’s lab. Sure, Cat wouldn’t be a formal employee, even if this were a real business, but she figured even consultants catering to the rich and bigoted would eventually want to know who the random woman in Vans and sweatshirts roaming their office hallways and lurking by the coffee maker was.

“Oh, sure,” Alex answered with a shrug, making sure everything was okay before closing her door and locking it with a satisfying click. “I just have to be back for the meeting at 2.”

“Don’t worry—this is a get-to-know-you lunch only; I’m not about to turn it into some kind of orientation where suddenly everyone is being asked to team up with people they’ve never met and do trust falls.”

Alex let out a small snort of amusement, shaking her head at the image of Maggie turning into some peppy corporate leader. “I don’t think doing trust falls in those shoes would really be the best idea.”

“Mm, probably right. I can think of other games you and I could play in them though,” Maggie added, her voice a low purr as she moved her mouth up to Alex’s ear.

“We’re at work,” Alex hissed.

“I’m the boss!”

“God, the power’s already going to your head,” Alex teased.

“You like it when I have the power.”

Alex’s cheeks flushed a pale pink even as she rolled her eyes. Before she could think of some witty retort, Maggie guided her into the conference room, settling into a seat at the head of the table and motioning for Alex to take the seat next to her. Once a few more people trickled in, Maggie cleared her throat. “Welcome to the Metropolis branch of Bosch Consulting—soon to be Bosch & Sterling! For those of you coming from National City, we’re so glad you accepted the offer to come help us build this new location from the ground up. And for our new hires, welcome! I’m excited to see what fresh new ideas you can bring to the table!” Maggie took a deep breath, having about exhausted her reserve of faux-corporate enthusiasm already. “I thought we could use this lunch as a chance to get to know one another a little better. I ordered sandwiches and drinks for everyone, so eat up and enjoy.”

As everyone swarmed over to the table with the free food—a draw no matter how old people were—Maggie slumped down into her chair. “This is the worst,” she muttered to Alex, careful to keep her voice low even though everyone here knew it wasn’t a real job.

“Just a few more hours before I can go home and make your day a little better.”

“You have to go to the bar from here—don’t get my hopes up,” Maggie grumbled.

“Well, if you can wait up…”

“It’s a Friday—I’d have to wait up until 2 or 3 in the morning.”

“You know I’d make it worth your while…”

“Really? You wouldn’t just pass out in bed while we were making out…again?”

“It happened once,” Alex huffed, straightening back up as some of the employees made their way back to the table. “I’m gonna go grab a sandwich. Want something?”

“I’ll come get it.”

Over lunch, Maggie forced herself to branch out and talk to some of the employees about their plans for setting up operations in Metropolis. They brainstormed names of possible new clients and ways of recruiting them. At one point she moved down the table to talk PR with some of the younger folks, asking if they’d be up for some community engagement. Even if the consulting firm would mysteriously disappear soon enough, it couldn’t hurt to cement their image as an institution really attempting to settle into the neighborhood and attract the attention of Metropolis’ wealthiest elite.

Around 1:30, Alex tapped Maggie on the arm. “I’m gonna head back to the lab, get a few things straightened up.”

“Perfect, I’ll meet Sam when she gets here, give her a little tour of the space if she wants it, then bring her down to you.”

“Sounds good.”

Once Alex got back to her lab, she tried to calm her nerves by methodically checking each of her cupboards against the checklists and guides she had prepared, having even gone so far as to channel her inner Kara and laminate them. She paced back and forth, trying not to dwell on what it might mean that Sam had texted her immediately after her moved meeting with Lillian. No matter how often Maggie tried to reassure her that they were making the best of the situation by staying calm and in character, she couldn’t help but feel her anxiety spike, fear twisting in her gut whenever Lillian was involved. She knew all of the problems she had wrought in National City, and she’d be damned if Kara were harmed again—especially if it was her fault.

Down the hall, Maggie kept an eye trained on the security camera pointed at the front entrance to the building, tapping her foot impatiently as she waited for Sam’s arrival. As much as she insisted to Alex that everything was fine, she knew neither of them quite believed it, but she had long ago accepted a constant feeling of creeping unease as part of the job. Only, this time, no matter how wary she was of Lillian, she couldn’t help but feel more confident. She had a brilliant, capable agent by her side, and no matter how tough and shrewd Cadmus was, she couldn’t help but trust that together, they were better.

As soon as she saw Sam striding toward the front door, she minimized the security feed and pulled back up her email on one monitor and a spreadsheet of potential clients in Metropolis on another. After a few minutes, her secretary’s voice came over the intercom: “Ms. Sterling? There’s a Ms. Wheeler here to see you and Ms. Sullivan.”

“I’ll be right out.” With a deep breath, Maggie straightened her suit jacket, plastered a friendly enough smile on her face, and strode out to greet Sam.

“Maria,” Sam called out. “The office looks wonderful. It’s nice to see what you’ve done with the place.”

Maggie smiled, remembering just how different Sam’s public persona could be. “It’s great to see you, Sam. How about a quick tour before we go see Cat? I’m sure she’d love a couple of extra minutes alone in her lab—you know how scientist types can get!”

Sam forced a smile, forced herself not to point out that she’d already been waiting an exceptionally long time to see any progress from Cat and that she reported to someone who thought waiting was an offense worthy of punishment by execution. “Of course, though I am in a bit of a hurry today.”

“Sure, sure,” Maggie agreed, guiding Sam to the far end of the offices as she went over the basics, introducing her to a few of the agents she had worked with at Kane Agencies long enough to know that they would do a good job of keeping their covers. Sam was duly impressed with the staff and how knowledgeable they all seemed to be about the area already, complimenting Maria on finding them and getting them trained and up to speed in such a timely manner.

Eventually Maggie figured she could put off the inevitable no longer and led Sam down to Alex’s lab. “Cat?” Maggie called out, finding Alex hunched over a microscope and looking fairly adorable in the dorkiest of ways.

“Hey,” Alex said, looking up and blinking a few times as her vision readjusted. “Good to see you, Sam. How was your week?”

“Oh, not particularly eventful,” Sam lied. “And yours?”

“Lots of work getting the lab set up—finally feel like I’m settling in, though.”

“We managed to squeeze in a few nights out for us too, babe,” Maggie added with an ostentatious wink, figuring they should keep their cover secure on all accounts. “Now, should I leave you two to it? Or did you have questions about funding? I’m happy to be as supportive as I can, but if you’ll need funding, any and all projects will need to be run through me first—I’ll need to have some justifications, at least on paper, for why company funds are being used.”

“There will be no need for that. As much as we appreciate your generosity in giving Cat space and equipment, I come bearing the rest that she’ll need. Of course, any time not spent on these projects can be used however you see fit—or whatever your personal arrangement is,” Sam clarified.

Maggie nodded, wondering at what point these suggested projects had become orders. “Well, call if you need anything.”

Once Maggie left, Sam pulled out one of the lab stools and sat down, setting a small binder Lillian had given her at their meeting the night before on the table. “Now, of course you’ll have freedom to choose from these projects, but I thought, based on your previous work, these ones might be of particular interest to you.”

“Great.” Alex forced herself to smile as Sam slid the binder down to her. She flipped through, while Sam went through them.

“Ah, Project Medusa,” Sam remarked, looking over Alex’s shoulder at the page where she had stopped. “I remember you mentioning something about bioengineering, so this might be right up your alley. Of course, some chemistry will be needed as well—we’ll need to synthesize Isotope 454.”

“What for?” Alex asked, hoping she sounded more curious than upset. Skimming through the page, she could tell it was a plan some kind of airborne pathogen, though she didn’t have time for a thorough read with Sam hovering.

“Unfortunately the compound some of our other scientists have been developing can’t be distributed long-range as is, but this Isotope would function as a dispersal agent,” Sam answered, reciting what she remembered of Lillian’s all too brief descriptions.

“And Project Hydra?” Alex wondered who the former Classics major was working for Cadmus.

Sam bit back her own reaction—it was one thing to control the alien menace, to wipe them out, but she knew Lillian intended for this to be used on humans—specifically on Cadmus agents. Affecting an air of nonchalance, Sam shrugged. “It’s a type of microbe that we’d like to see introduced into…sometimes inhospitable environments. As it stands, it doesn’t reproduce quickly enough to stay viable.”

“Viable for…?” Alex trailed off, looking expectantly back at Sam. This one had almost no information about project aims.

Mind control, Sam thought. A way for Lillian to control her agents, even killing them, from a distance. “Life in human hosts,” she answered simply.

Alex barely repressed a shudder, wondering why Cadmus would need something to reproduce quickly enough to, she assumed, colonize a living host. “Mm, I don’t know that’s exactly my area of expertise…”

Nodding, Sam flipped the page, glad to see that Alex seemed to have mimicked her own affected apathy to the project. “Next up is Project Helios. We’re hoping to create a substance that could absorb vast quantities of heat and energy.”

Alex nodded, making a mental note to come back to that project. None of the projects were things she wanted to hand over to Cadmus, but something defensive was far preferable to a weapon, especially to some of the ones she skimmed past—much of it clearly appropriated alien technology, and a few pages that seemed devoted to different agents of mind control, whether they were the microbes or synthetic hormones meant to mimic the body’s fear response, among others.

Noting how interested Cat seemed to be in the binder, Sam cleared her throat, drawing the woman’s attention back to her. “It looks like something’s caught your fancy.”

“Oh plenty,” Alex replied. And it was true enough—J’onn would definitely be getting briefed on all of it once they could get a secure line.

“Now, we’ll supply you with whatever you need, but I’ll need to know which projects you plan to start with.”

“Ah, right. Project Helios, for sure,” Alex began, figuring that would be her best bet for something she could show demonstrable progress on without having to worry too much about actively harming the alien populace. Sam nodded and made a quick note before looking back up at her. “Um, let’s see…Project Proteus sounds interesting.” In fact it sounded absolutely horrifying, taking White Martian stem cells and finding a way to harness their mutability and, presumably, weaponize it.

“Anything else?”

“What about the synthetic kryptonite?” Alex had absolutely no desire to perfect it, but she would do anything to get her hands on the research Cadmus already had. If she could introduce a flaw—something that Kara and Clark could be ready to combat before Cadmus even got it out in the streets…

“A fitting choice for this city,” Sam remarked. “I’ll have the materials you’ll need and the research we have delivered here Monday morning. If you need anything—materials, money, assistance—just say the word.” The assumption of a show of good faith, of progress being made and deliverables being produced, went unstated.

“Thank you.”

“Anything for the cause, right?”

Alex gulped and nodded, hoping she was just letting her imagination run wild, conjuring up the look of suspicion she swore she caught in Sam’s expression. “Everything for the greater good.”

#undercover(s)#fanfic #spy au #sanvers #alex x maggie #alex danvers #maggie sawyer #ofc #ao3feed

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