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Angel Dust stepped into Vee Tower. Even the bottom floor looked like a bomb had gone off: lights flickered on and off, the lobby chairs had fallen over, and ominous creaks and metallic groans sounded from the higher floors, like what a sinking ship probably sounded like.
He closed the door behind him. He didn’t look back. He could never look back.
He could still hear Husk’s broken, “Angel, come back.”
Wiping his tears on the sleeves of his sweater, he stared straight ahead. There was a faint ringing in his ears, and a headache was pressing against his forehead and temples, threatening to grow worse with every moment.
Cherri Bomb had tried to tell him, “You do have a choice, Angie.”
If he turned and ran now, maybe—
“Angel.” Val. Angel Dust straightened up.
Vox was face down on one of the sleek leather couches in the lobby. Velvette was typing on her phone next to Valentino, who also had his phone out. The two were standing out of earshot of Vox.
“Guys? Guuuuuys!” Vox’s voice was muffled by the leather.
“Yeah, Val?” Angel Dust asked.
Val took in the tears in his eyes and the mascara streaking down his cheeks with a small frown. Angel Dust gulped. His heart beat double-time in his chest. He had to snap out of it. He was back in Vee Tower. He was probably going to be stuck here for the rest of his eternal life. He had to start playing the game again.
“We’ve got reports that most of the actors’ rooms were destroyed,” Val said, his tone cool and detached. “So you’ll be sleeping on my couch tonight.”
“The…the actors?” Angel Dust tried to swallow, but his mouth and throat were dry. “Is everyone...?”
“Attending Vox’s little party was mandatory for most VoxTek employees. To fill out the crowd shots, you know. Janitorial and the crew we didn’t need to work the cameras, however....” He gave a little shrug.
“Oh.” Val was proving harder to read than usual. He looked at Angel Dust the same way you’d look at an uninteresting piece of furniture.
“Come on, I’ll fly you....” He paused, then hissed, “Motherfucker!” in Spanish. “I keep forgetting your kitty-cat friend tore my wing up. Ugh, never fucking mind. The elevator’s down, so I guess we’re walking all the way up. Fuck.” His lower hand reached down to squeeze Velvette’s shoulder.
She actually looked up from her phone—a minor miracle—and flashed Val a small smile. “See you bright and early, mate.” She glanced at Vox and Angel Dust. “And get some bloody sleep, yeah? You can celebrate later.”
Angel Dust knew exactly how Val liked to celebrate. His skin crawled. Angel Dust would have to touch Val eventually. His stomach roiled. Maybe if he pretended Val was someone else....
No. That would just make it hurt worse.
“Sure, babydoll.”
Val picked up Vox and took him and Angel Dust to the stairway. He and Val stared up the many flights of stairs. How big was Vee Tower? A hundred storeys? More? There’d never been a moment he had to take the stairs. In fact, usually Angel Dust avoided them, even for a smoke break or to shoot up—the stairways were a prime crying spot for the Vees’ employees.
“Don’t suppose you have web powers you never told me about?” Valentino asked.
“What, like Spider-Man? Uh, no.”
Annoyed, Vox said, “Use your fucking smoke, Val.”
“Huh?”
“Make a grappling hook or some shit and then climb up. You’ve got four arms. Should be easy.”
Val gave a low, thoughtful hum. Smoke wisped from his mouth, forming a grappling hook with a chain attached. After a few moments, he tossed it up. It fell back down.
“Val, fuck’s sake—throw it at an angle,” Vox snapped. He played a video of some spy movie on his screen, lines of static running through it.
After a few more attempts, Val finally managed to hook the grappling hook onto the railing of one of the stairs. He started climbing, and Angel Dust followed. His stomach flipped when he first trusted his weight to a rope made of smoke, but when he didn’t fall, he forced himself up.
“From climbing the stairs to Heaven to climbing our own fucking tower,” Vox grumbled. “We could’ve been gods, Val. Until you and Velvette abandoned me.”
“You sat that bitch next to you like she was important. I stepped away. Didn’t want to cause a scene, after all. Not on your big night.”
“That bitch? Wait, you mean the princess of Hell? The linchpin of the rest of my plan? Yeah, I sat her next to me because she was important, Val. I explained all this to you!”
“No, you dropped some random-ass, insane-sounding bullshit after not sleeping for days and letting the Radio Demon drive you crazy, like you’d been doing all week! How were Velvette and I supposed to keep up—”
“It’s called taking initiative! Making big swings! You were both perfectly able to contribute if you’d had any ideas yourselves.”
“Oh, because you’ve been in such a collaborative mood, these days!” In Spanish, he snapped, “Son of a bitch! Anyway, the princess’s little pals broke into Vee Tower. Velvette said something about the server room before running off.”
Vox grunted. “Not that Velvette did shit to help me. The princess fucked with my broadcast. And even muted me! Cunt.”
“And some of Angel Dust’s friends mounted a daring rescue mission.” Val glared down at Angel Dust, his lips pursed tight.
“I fought on your side, Val,” Angel Dust said quickly.
“Not until I asked.”
“I was outta it! I heard you call for me, and I choked my own best friend until Husk sucker punched me. Ain’t that enough?”
“Husk. So that’s the cat’s name.” Val’s attention hadn’t left Angel Dust. The two of them had climbed up at least 10 flights. If Val let the smoke-chain drop…. “Did you have fun chatting with him after you drag show, baby? Travis saw you two at the bar.”
Angel Dust tried to ignore his pounding heart and sweaty palms. He forced himself to think when all he wanted to do was curl up and die. “Uh, Husk and fun don’t really go together. The guy’s a bitter, boring piece of shit. I just said hi ‘cuz I know him from the hotel, that’s all. Left after a minute.”
Val held his gaze then shrugged and turned his attention back to climbing. Angel Dust breathed a sigh of relief.
“Huh,” Vox said, a grin growing on his staticky screen. “Interesting description of the man you were going to sacrifice your life for, Angel Dust. Very interesting.”
“What?” Val snapped, glaring between the two of them. Some smoke drifted out between his clenched teeth, and the hands around the smoke-chain tightened.
“All the effort Velvette and I put into ‘Hazbin Hotel: Behind Closed Doors’ and you didn’t even watch it. Tsk.” But despite his annoyance, Vox was still grinning. “Angel Dust here stood in front of a speeding train with an angelic spear tied to the front of it, all to save Alastor’s fucking pet. Oh, and the bitchfest that happened after!” Vox’s screen played Angel Dust snapping at Charlie, who was dressed as Danny Do-Bad. “That implies a certain degree of closeness, in my opinion.”
“Angie?” Val looked ready to kill. “Is this true?”
“Close? Come the fuck on. Alastor’s goons only care about Alastor and themselves.” He had to think faster—none of that explained the footage Vox could easily show Val with his screen face. “It’s just Pen—uh, Sir Pentious—redeemed himself by dying. Seemed as good a way as any to get redeemed until Charlie figured different.” He scowled at Vox. “And can we talk about why the fucking train didn’t stop when Charlie tried to stop it? Val, you know Vox tried to kill me, right?”
Vox laughed. “So what if I did? C’mon, Val, are you listening to this guy? This whore you’ve given everything to wants to leave you! He disrespects you to the princess and her buddies, he was probably fucking Alastor’s pet—”
“I never—”
“—and he shits on everything you’ve ever done for him. Why is he still here, Val? He can’t be a good spy anymore. Kick the fucker out.”
Salvation came in the form of Valentino’s exhausted expression and drooping antennae. “He’s still our biggest star.” His eyes narrowed, but there was no intensity in his gaze. “However much he’s pissed me off, personally. Never thought I’d see the day you’d forget the bottom line, Vox.”
“Why think like a CEO when I was going to be a god? I would’ve been beyond money, beyond approval ratings, beyond everything. Fuck!” His voice pitch shifted down. “FUCK!”
“Hey, uh, how the fuck did Alastor get free, anyway?” Angel Dust asked. Anything to get the heat off him.
Vox began buffering and bluescreening with rage. “IT WAS—WAS—WAS BULLSHIT!” he screamed. His screams echoed in the tight stairway, making Angel Dust’s headache worsen. Vox kept ranting; Angel Dust tuned him out after a while.
As the climb continued, Angel Dust’s arms and legs began to burn, then shake, then grow numb. His vision doubled as he looked down.
“Val—” he croaked.
Just as his bottom hands began to slip, Val grabbed his top ones. His stomach lurched, its contents beginning to rise.
“I’m gonna—” Angel Dust began. He couldn’t get anything else out before twisting his head down and vomiting up what little he’d eaten that day.
“Uh, crack and mandatory exercise don’t mix,” he mumbled, trying to make a joke. “I’ll take the stairs.”
Horrifyingly, Val looked tender. “Oh, pobrecito.” It was always worse when he cared. That helped Angel Dust forget what he was normally like. “Let me carry you, baby. I can manage you both.”
After a quick swing of the chain, Val was on the nearest stair landing. He waved his hand and made the chain and grappling hook disappear. To Vox, he grumbled, “At least now if you want to scream about Alastor some more, I won’t have to worry about losing concentration and dropping us 50 fucking storeys. That fucking cat.” He glared at his ruined wing.
He lifted Angel Dust into his top arms, still holding Vox in his bottom ones.
As Val walked, he said, “Angie, do they have crack in Heaven?”
“Probably not.”
“Do they have fame? Money? Sex? Do they have any of the shit I’ve given you?”
Heaven was a place where none of that mattered. But Val couldn’t see that. All he cared about was the high of drugs and sex and fame. He’d been a nobody in life, at least compared to who he was in Hell. He could never imagine a better life than what he had now. “No.”
“Why would you want to leave me?”
He tried to think. He just needed to say something to help him survive the next five seconds. “Things weren’t great between us. I kept trying to help you out with business dealings, get out of the studio, take on more responsibility, and you kept saying no. The hotel started as a free place to stay. I guess I just got sucked into all this redemption shit when I was staying there.”
Val sighed heavily. “It’s my fault. You wanted a change. A challenge. You were on top and didn’t see anywhere else to go.” He raised Vox’s dismembered head to glare at him. “I’m starting to realize how much of a fucking problem that can be.”
“Or he’s an ungrateful whore,” Vox added.
Angel Dust sighed. “I…I was never gonna get redeemed.” His gaze flicked to Vox, but he forced himself not to glare. “Your pals knew that from the start. Just took me a while to see it, I guess.”
Charlie had spoken to him a day after Vox and Velvette’s visit to the hotel. “I don’t know how to redeem you right now, Angel. But I promise you, I won’t give up. We’ll find a way. Vox was wrong—you’re not irredeemable.” She’d wasted so much time and energy on him.
But even if redemption wasn’t for people like him, he still could’ve helped the hotel. He could’ve told the story of Sir Pentious. He could’ve listened to the newbies at the bar, giving advice along with Husk. He could’ve kept Charlie safe from the worst of the worst, the sinners who weren’t there for the right reasons. The Vees had stolen that from him.
Anger surged hot and wild in his chest. He snapped, “And it worked out for the Vees in the end, right? You got a fucking spy.”
“Do you think I wanted Vox to hypnotize you? I hated seeing what it did to you, baby. I wanted to have you spying on the hotel without mind control. But you hadn’t been showing me a lot of trust.”
As pissed off as he felt—fuck, he could go for another hit of crack anytime—he had to be smarter. “Why do you even care? Charlie’s just some nepo-baby who has some kooky ideas. She’s not a threat to you guys.”
“The Radio Demon is interested in her cause,” Vox said. “That’s reason enough.”
Val’s lower hands held Vox out over the railing of the stairs, over a 50 storey drop.
“Val!” Vox blurted out just before Val dropped him.
Angel Dust twisted in Val’s arms, hit the railing with his chest and grabbed the corner of Vox’s screen, just managing to hold on to him.
“Um,” Val said. “Angie, what the fuck?”
“You fucking psychopath!” Vox shouted, glaring up at Val.
“I dunno what happened!” Angel Dust said as he pulled Vox close and held him against his chest. “I just…I didn’t even think….” Electricity crackled along Vox’s monitor, and Angel Dust still didn’t put him down.
“One of the first commands I implanted in you since you left the hotel, fucker,” Vox snapped. “You can’t hurt the Vees or let us get hurt.”
“Asshole,” Angel Dust snapped. He tried to force himself to let Vox drop, but he couldn’t do it.
Val picked Angel Dust up again, saying, “Vox, for the next few hours, I need you to shut the fuck up about the Radio Demon.” His tone was somewhere between cold and exhausted.
“How about fucking telling me that instead of trying to kill me, asshole?”
“You would’ve come back to life in a few minutes. And you haven’t been listening to me for weeks. Why would you start now?”
Angel Dust smirked at Vox, still in his lower hands. “Hmm. Saved by my grip strength. Guess all those hand jobs paid off.”
“Shut the fuck up, whore.”
“Sounds like someone wants a close-up view of my sweater, dick.” He flipped Vox around so Vox’s screen was facing his stomach.
A muffled “Bitch,” followed.
The stairwell hadn’t escaped the wrath of that giant laser thing. On one floor, Angel Dust guessed around the 110s, the stairs and the wall to the building ended abruptly, coming back 10 or so feet above them. The floor between the two halves of the staircase seemed to have been surgically removed. Wind blew in from the outside. Some bits of ceiling and floor remained, but for the most part, it was gone. Only the three remaining walls kept Vee Tower from collapsing.
Val easily lifted Angel Dust to the staircase above and climbed up himself. Angel Dust remembered golden beams of light shooting out almost everywhere. What had Vox been firing at that was worth blowing up his own home and the souls he owned? Lute and that chubby angel had come after he’d been beheaded.
He flipped Vox around and showed him what they’d just encountered. “Proud of yourself?”
Vox snorted. “You can’t blame me for that. I was trying to take down—” He interrupted himself, glancing at Val. “A piece of shit. And I almost fucking had him. Fucker.” Unlike his earlier rage, this came out as a whisper.
They finally made it up to Val’s penthouse suite. Val sighed at the broken liquor bottles, overturned furniture, scorch marks and Kitty’s fallen body. Angel Dust cringed; Cherri and Husk had risked their lives for him for no reason. Wind whistled in through an exploded window. Val dropped Angel Dust on the couch, jabbed a coat-hook into the wall and balanced Vox on it like Vox was a wall-mounted TV.
“Just stay here, all right?” Val said to Angel Dust. “Try to get some sleep. Ah, one moment.” He went into his bathroom and returned with a handful of pills. “These should help.”
Angel Dust knew these pills by sight: benzos. He had no idea how benzos and crack mixed. Badly, probably. But if he died, at least he’d be unconscious longer. Angel Dust reached out for them.
Before Val handed them off, he met Angel Dust’s gaze. “If the princess or her papi could get you out of my contract, they would’ve. I know you hate me, Angie, but you’re stuck with me. Going forward, I’d like us to make this business relationship as painless as possible. We’ve both said and done things we regret. Let’s make this a fresh start. Everything before today is water under the bridge.”
Angel Dust knew better than to believe him. Charlie had taught him a lot about the cycle of abuse. He could almost hear Cherri reminding him, “Angie, this is fucking love-bombing—he’s only doing this to control you.”
“Okay, Val.” He could say anything he wanted to survive the next ten minutes. This was just another role to act. As long as he remembered what was true and what was fake, then his time at the hotel hadn’t been a total waste.
Val squeezed his shoulder and gave him a small smile. “You know, Angie, Vox isn’t going to be head of the TV department for a while…. I can get you some big roles, where you can really challenge yourself. Or if you want to help out with some of my business dealings. I mean, I only wanted you to stop leaving the studio so you didn’t run into your family—I thought the whole reason you signed on with me was to get away from them….”
“It was, Val. But after so many years and so many movies, I just needed a change.”
“You’ll get one, baby. We’re going to do things differently, you and me.” Frowning, he glanced over his shoulder at Vox. “And it’ll just be you and me. No more people getting between us. I promise.”
“Thanks, Val. I’d like that.” He forced himself to smile at the man who’d called him his property, who’d attacked his rescuers and forced him to attack them, who’d let him be mind-fucked into betraying his friends.
“Goodnight, baby.”
Angel Dust swallowed the pills and sprawled out on the couch.
He woke up to a dark penthouse, a dry mouth, a rumbling stomach and Vox whispering, “Val. Val….”
A grumbled, “What?” came from the bed.
“I get it, you’re pissed. You’ve been away for around eight hours. A full workday’s a lot for you, babe. You worked your ass off while I slept.” His voice grew warmer, huskier. “Let me make it up to you. Like when we’d test drive a new head, hmm?”
Val muttered, “Ugh,” before hissing, “Good fucking night, asshole!”
Vox’s chuckle was soft and warm. “C’mon, Val. Why else did you take me in instead of Velvette?”
“Hmmph—because she probably would’ve killed you for all the shit you pulled.”
“Let me help you relax, babe. Don’t I always give you what you need?” When Val didn’t reply, he smugly repeated, “Don’t I?”
There was a rustle of cloth as Val moved in bed. “You—you do, of course,” he muttered, the anger gone from his voice. A few moments of silence followed.
“Val?”
A soft laugh came from the bed. “I’ve actually found something that doesn’t make me want to fuck you, Vox. One memory that I’m going to keep playing over and over: You about to kill everyone—and yourself—for the fucking Radio Demon.” He sucked in a shaky breath. “I was...I was so scared. So shocked.” His voice grew tight as he spoke through tears. “Velvette wasn’t. Bitch has balls of steel. She acted, while I...I didn’t...I couldn’t....”
“I—”
“No.” He swallowed heavily. “Vox, no. Don’t talk. For once, don’t. I’m not fucking you, we’re not having this conversation now, we’re just going to sleep. I have a long fucking day tomorrow. Okay?”
Val was crying over Vox. Angel Dust wanted to scream. How could Valentino, an overlord who enslaved thousands, a killer a hundred times over, who tore his actors and crew apart for the slightest inconvenience, sound like an actual fucking human being? Angel Dust had been with Val for decades. Fuck, in the beginning, he’d been in love with Val. What was wrong with him that he’d never seen this side of Val?
Finally, Vox said, “Sure, Val.” Angel Dust never though he’d see the day when Vox would listen to anyone else.
Just as Angel Dust was starting to drift off to sleep, Val got out of bed and moved to Vox, muttering in Spanish. “I hate this stupid old TV-head freak, this doesn’t mean I give a single fuck about him.”
“Hmm?” Vox mumbled.
“Vox, you suicidal asshole, you mass-murdering son of a bitch, you company-killing cocksucker....” Back by the bed, he said in English, “We’re cuddling, asshole. And, no, not sexy cuddling. Just cuddling. All right?”
Vox’s “Okay!” must have sounded far too happy for Val, judging by Val’s annoyed grunt. There was the soft whump of a TV head hitting a pillow before Val returned to bed.
“Always here to help you pass the time, fucker,” Val grumbled in Spanish.
Angel Dust tried to go back to sleep. If Vox and Val did anything else that night, at least they didn’t wake him up.
What did wake him up was Val saying, “Wake up, baby.”
Angel Dust opened his eyes to a silhouette he could just make out in the gloom of Val’s darkened penthouse.
“Mmf, what?” Vox grumbled from the bed.
“Oh, uh, I meant Angel,” Val said. When Angel Dust sat up, Val placed a tray on his lap. “But since you’re both up....” With two claps, the lights came on in the penthouse. Angel Dust closed his watering eyes against the assault. Vox shouted in wordless anger. When Angel Dust warily opened his eyes, he saw a bowl of Veezees—V-shaped puffs in blue, red and pink—on the tray.
His mind went back to the hotel: On his second day, Charlie had asked him what he wanted for breakfast, and he hadn’t been able to answer. His diet in Vee Tower was strict; Val didn’t want any of his actors gaining weight. Angel Dust was used to eating what little Val gave him.
As he dug into the sugary cereal, Val spoke. He was a bit more animated today, but still far from as intense as he usually was. “I would’ve asked Kitty to make something for you, but she’s still in the shop. Oh, and here.” He put a cardboard box down by the couch. “If you want to shower and change, I kept some shit from your dressing room when I thought you’d be coming back. I think there’s enough for a full outfit in there. You’ll need new clothes, I guess. We’ll have to go shopping once things are calmer.” For the first time since Angel Dust had returned to Vee Tower, a small smile worked its way onto Val’s face. “My abuelita would’ve tanned my hide for being such a poor host.”
Horribly, Angel Dust found himself smiling back, not as part of some plan to survive, but just because he wanted to. He’d forgotten how charming Val could be sometimes. He forced himself to remember Val smacking him after Charlie’s visit to the porn studio.
He thought back to a moment with Charlie in one of his later therapy sessions. “I...I miss him, sometimes. Val, I mean. Stupid, isn’t it? I hate his guts. After everything he’s done for me, I should want him dead! And, usually, I do! But, sometimes, when he looks at me...fuck, I feel like I did back when we first met. Butterflies in the stomach kinda shit. What does he have to do to beat that out of me? Kill me? Kill Fat Nuggets? Something’s wrong with me.” He’d hugged his lower arms over his stomach.
Charlie had looked up from her notes—she’d taken so many pages of notes during their sessions because he was so fucked up—slowly inhaled, and quietly said, “You miss the person you thought he was. There’s nothing wrong with wanting love or connection, Angel. And he’s a manipulator. He knows how to play on people’s feelings.”
If he could remember what Charlie taught him, his time at the hotel had been worth it, even if he never saw anybody from the hotel again.
A knock sounded at the door to Val’s penthouse. Val startled. “Fuck,” he muttered. He darted to his bed, picked up Vox and leaned him against the coat hook. “You stayed on the wall all night, okay, Vox?” He jabbed a finger in Vox’s face. “Don’t fuck me on this, I’m serious.”
Vox grinned smugly. “Wouldn’t dream of it, babe.”
“Asshole,” Val grumbled. “Kitty...oh, wait, fuck.” Val had to grab his own clothes. He threw on his usual cream bellbottoms, a black belt with a golden heat-shaped buckle, a red jacket, his tall hat and fake golden claws on his two top hands. He put on a few more gold accessories when he shouted over his shoulder, “C’mon in, baby doll.”
Velvette and Melissa stepped in. Velvette’s outfit was corporate casual: a black, wide-legged pantsuit with an open, extra-long blazer with three gold buttons on the front and three at each cuff. Beneath the blazer was a white t-shirt beneath with red hearts the same shade as Val’s ruff. Her five-inch heels were the same bright red as the hearts on her shirt. Her haircut was a short, tapered Afro. Melissa wore a matching, slightly less detailed version of her boss’s outfit.
“You’re wearing that?” Velvette asked Val.
Val squeaked. “Yes. What’s wrong with this?”
“Well, it’s good enough for around the tower, I s’pose. I picked out your interview outfit last night, thank fuck.” She looked around. “Where’s Travis?”
“Playing with himself, probably,” Val grumbled. Angel Dust couldn’t help but snicker. Travis was such a useless shit.
Travis rushed to the doorway, panting, wearing his usual hat, tie and jacket. “I’m here, boss! I’m here!” Everyone knew Val didn’t get up before noon; Travis wasn’t used to waking up so early.
“Interview?” Vox asked.
“Oh, yeah,” Val said as if he’d only just remembered. “I’m the new boss daddy of VoxTek.”
“Really?”
Val frowned. “You don’t think I can do it?”
“It’s just, I was obviously grooming Velvette to be my successor....”
“Well, the opinion polls don’t lie,” Velvette said. She seemed much less bitter than Angel Dust expected she would. Maybe she was just good at hiding it. Or maybe she liked being the power behind the throne—it’d give her more time to play her bitchy, mean-girl mind games. “C’mon, babes, let’s go.”
As Val moved to meet Velvette at the door, Vox said, “Wait! Velvette, Val, there’s gotta be something I can do to help out after, ah, everything that happened. Maybe nothing public facing for now, but at least in Vee Tower. Put me to work, guys!”
His fellow Vees glared at him. Angel Dust noticed that Ethan, Vox’s assistant, had joined the assistants. Was he going to be helping Vox? Maybe Val or Velvette had poached him.
“I—I get it. You’re upset. Who wouldn’t be? I’m upset with how things went, too. Believe me. It should’ve worked. All the pieces were in place.” Electricity crackled around Vox’s monitor. Seeing Val turn back to face the door, Vox quickly changed his tune. “Who wouldn’t want to be kicking back in Heaven right now instead of dealing with this steaming load? So let me make it up to you and help out.”
Val stopped walking to the door. The muscles along all four arms tensed. His lower hands became fists. Val’s growing anger wasn’t even aimed at Angel Dust, and his stomach dropped and he automatically set his bowl of Veezees on the ground in case he needed to run.
“You were going to bring us with you?” Val said. “Once you got up there?”
Vox looked surprised. “Um, of course? Babe, that was always the plan.”
Val and Velvette shared a glance. When the two Vees faced Vox, they had too-large smiles pasted on their faces.
“Oh,” Val said, “he did it for us, babydoll.”
Velvette chuckled. “Of course, he did! You’d be insane to say that and not mean it. Not with how heavily monitored VoxTek is.” Velvette pulled a pink screen up from her phone, which grew to the size of a standard laptop screen. On it was security footage of what looked like Vox’s bedroom. He was behind a large desk with a bunch of screens floating in front of him, each with a different image on it. Alastor sat, tied to a chair in front of Vox’s desk.
The video played.
“...hah, there it is!” Vox said. He pulled up a screen with a shot of a blast of golden energy striking Heaven. “That’s the money shot.” He minimized the screen with the image and sent it to his phone. “And sending that to Velvette for the online promos....”
“My, my, you have so many photos of you and those little friends of yours,” Alastor commented, sounding bored.
Vox’s screen snapped to Alastor. “What? These?” He waved a dismissive hand at the many photos in front of him. Now that Angel Dust looked closer, they appeared to be paparazzi shots and ads of the Vees mixed in with candid shots of Valentino and Velvette. “They’re not friends—they’re business associates.”
“Really? You care enough for your business associates to rule Heaven alongside them.”
Vox scoffed, waving his hands dismissively. He was much more animated than Angel Dust had ever seen him. “Hah! You fucking idiot! That’s a little something called a lie. I’ll be the only one ruling Heaven. I convinced them otherwise with a little song and dance. The sheep fell in line—they always do. Just like the rest of Hell did. Just like the overlords did.” He chuckled, his voice raspy and low. “Just like Heaven will.”
“Ah, I understand, now! So, what’s the plan? Smite them once you get up there? Bring them up only to cast them down to Hell again and really twist the knife?”
“What? Why the fuck would I kill them? They—not that I care,” he interrupted himself quickly. “The plan is to never think about these fuckers again.” He spread his arms, cackling. “It’s going to be a fucking vacation!”
He stepped closer to the photos hanging suspended in mid-air and touched a photo of Velvette. “It’s a shame. With more drive and ambition, Velvette could’ve been a young me.”
“She made quite an impression during her first overlord meeting,” Alastor said.
“Mm, she’s great at first impressions. But scratch the surface, and there’s nothing there.” His screen tilted to another photo, and he made a disgusted noise at the back of his throat. “And Val—fuck, I’ve been trying to get rid of that asshole for over 40 years.”
“Hmm. Do you often sleep with people you’re trying to get rid of?” Alastor chuckled, but Angel Dust noticed his ears were down. “Or is the idea to be so bad at sex that he leaves you of his own accord?”
Vox’s screen lightened in what Angel Dust read as a blush. “Pshh, I—you—shut the fuck up.” He glanced aside as electricity crackled around his monitor. “Val’s a useful animal—I choose to let him sleep on the bed now and then when he begs. Lives are long in Hell; he helps pass the time. It doesn’t mean shit.”
His gaze went to the photos, then he walked through them and stood in front of the floor-to-ceiling windows, his screen fixed up on Heaven. “Throughout human history, most societies have only ever had one god. If Valentino and Velvette forgot that, well....” He chuckled. “That’s hardly my fault, is it?”
Suddenly, music came from nowhere—one of Hell’s musical numbers.
“I heard this part from the hallway,” Valentino said, his tone fake cheerful. “Your singing voice really carries, babe!”
Vox sang:
“Soon I’ll be up there
The one and only true god.”
He turned around a minimized the screens with the other Vees on them.
“No more playing house, once they’re devout
I won’t need a squad.”
He walked up onto his desk then stared out the window at Pentagram City.
“Climb the stairway up to Heaven live on every TV
Always knew the guy they’re praying to was gonna be me!”
On-screen movement caught Angel Dust’s attention. The camera faced the door to Vox’s bedroom; it showed the door opening with a hint of fluffy antennae. Val leaned down and tapped Velvette’s phone, pausing the video.
“Before we checked the security footage,” Valentino said, “I was willing to believe I’d misheard your song. I was....” He inhaled heavily, tears welling up in his eyes that he hastily wiped away. “An idiot,” he said quietly in Spanish.
In the silence, Angel Dust noticed that Travis and Melissa had moved closer to their Vees, leaving Ethan standing alone. Ethan’s shoulders were slumped and he awkwardly held his clipboard up like a shield. Anyone with half a brain knew that Ethan had nothing to do with what Vox did. You’d think the Vees’ assistants, close to these assholes as they were, would band together, but they were just as cruel and cliquey as the Vees they served.
Angel Dust hadn’t paid much attention to Vox, the least threatening Vee in the room. When Vox cleared his throat, Angel Dust saw his red eyes were wide, his brows were pinched together, and his gaze was darting between Valentino and Velvette. “Guys, okay, okay, yes, all of that sounds very bad. I’m right there with you! Look, he...he was driving me crazy. Obviously, that part was the lie. I was always going to bring you—”
Velvette pulled something out of her purse: a remote. She clicked a button on it, and Vox fell silent, a ‘muted’ symbol appearing at the bottom-right corner of his screen. He kept speaking silently only to stop after a few moments, blinking.
“This is the last unearned fucking favour you get from me, Vee,” she said coldly. “I’m going to give you a long, long time to choose your next words.” She looked up at Val. “C’mon, mate. We got a media empire to run. Let’s get started.”
They left the penthouse, the assistants following. Ethan glanced plaintively over his shoulder at Vox before the doors to Val’s penthouse closed. Tension left Angel Dust’s body in a rush, leaving him boneless and panting on the couch. Slowly, constantly glancing at the door, he finished his cereal. The box Val had brought over contained an old crack pipe, two gloves, a single patent leather boot, two pairs of broken sunglasses, a simple dusty-pink crop-top sweater with a blue flower design and some jean shorts. Good enough for an outfit, though he would’ve liked some clean underwear. Once, Val had happily shared his clothes with Angel Dust, but the days of being able to pick out an outfit from Val's closet were long gone.
He took a shower in Val’s massive bathroom, all golds and dark fuchsias and creams and reds. If he squinted, he could pretend he was back at the hotel. Charlie and Val had nothing in common except a love of the similar colour palettes. He put on the fresh clothes and turned his underwear inside out so he could at least feel sort of clean.
He came out to see Vox hopping awkwardly on Val’s nightstand. He tried to grab a loose cigarette with his tongue, but he kept pushing it away each time he tried to grab it. Angel Dust snickered. Vox dropped the cigarette and glared at him. Suddenly, his eyes widened. He hopped closer to Angel Dust and began to speak, but he remained muted. Frowning, his face disappeared and images flashed on screen: an eye, a VoxTek drone, and exterior views of the Hazbin Hotel.
“Huh?” It took a few more sets of images from an annoyed Vox, but finally Angel Dust said, “Uh, you can show me what’s going on at the hotel with your drones?”
Vox wobbled back and forth in a way that mimicked a nod.
“How? You’re a frigging head. How do I know you won’t just show me old footage?”
Vox’s face disappeared. His screen showed a black screen with the green word ‘Connecting’ with a green bar that grew longer every second. When the bar filled up, ‘Connecting’ became ‘Streaming in Progress’. This VoxTek drone was flying through the entertainment district. It had taken the worst of the damage from Vox’s superweapon thing. Buildings were blasted apart and entire streets were blocked by rubble. Flowers and lit candles had been laid at a few sites. Photos of the dead had gone up on the one remaining wall of a destroyed sex shop.
Angel Dust was surprised to see VoxTek employees on the ground, cleaning up and talking to what few sinners were out. It must be a publicity stunt, he realized. Why else was a drone recording it? The Vees never missed an opportunity to promote themselves. Those employees probably weren’t even going to do any work.
The stream stopped and the screen went black. The green words ‘Connection Terminated’ showed on screen.
Angel Dust tried to put together the bits and pieces he knew of what happened last night. “Woah. So, you did all that?”
Vox’s face returned, his brows tight over a downcast gaze, his mouth a small line. If Vox were normal, Angel Dust would’ve said he looked guilty, but the Vees didn’t care about anyone but themselves. He was probably thinking about his low approval ratings or something.
Vox mouthed words that were clearly, ‘I guess?’ He seemed confused as he spoke, like he’d forgotten how he was connected to all this.
“Um, okay.” Angel Dust didn’t really care about Vox’s clear mental issues. “So you can show me the hotel. What’s in it for you?”
Vox’s screen showed images of sinners smoking and a shot of booze being poured into a glass.
“Wait, wait, wait—all I gotta do for you to show me the hotel is give you a drink and a smoke?”
Vox nodded, hopping from corner to corner of his monitor eagerly.
Angel Dust snuggled back into the couch. “What, so you can squeal on me to Val? Fuck you, asshole.”
Vox hopped up and down. He showed an image of Val on screen—one of Val posing at the opening of one of Hell’s latest clubs—with a red line running through it.
“Yeah right. You think I’m Hell’s biggest sucker, don’t ya?”
Vox showed a scene from ‘Yeah, I Fucked Your Sister, So What?’ of Benny begging Carla to stay with him. The line had been heavily memed: Benny sobbing, saying, “Please, please, please, I’m begging you, please, please....”
Angel Dust sighed. He weighed the cost of getting off the couch, the cost of pissing off Valentino, the cost of making Vox an enemy, and the cost of not seeing his friends. He wanted to close his eyes and sleep for a year. Even this minor dilemma was too much for him.
He thought silently for a moment, looking down at his top set of hands. “I don’t need to see everyone in the hotel. Just Fat Nuggets, my pig.” He sighed, running his upper hands through his hair. “I know they’re treating him good. ‘Course they are. But I just...I just wanna see him, y’know?”
Vox nodded again, starting to smile.
Angel Dust stood up, wincing at the aches and pains radiating through his body. His hands still hurt from when he’d tried to strangle his best friend. Fuck. Why shouldn’t he just make it to the window and jump off? He tried to imagine Cherri Bomb, Husk and Charlie hearing that he’d plunged to his death. They’d feel so shitty if they heard that. But maybe not that shitty—wouldn’t part of them be secretly a little relieved? Hadn’t Angel Dust always taken from them, never giving? All his complaining to Cherri Bomb and Husk about Val and the Vees, all those therapy sessions with Charlie.... He’d been a leech on the hotel, draining everyone’s time and energy.
With a heavy sigh, he picked up a glass, filled it with Scotch from Val’s liquor cabinet, grabbed a cigarette and lit it and walked over to Vox.
Val always made sure his actors knew they were just porn actors, not real actors. But—looking at Vox’s hopeful, eager expression—Angel Dust knew without a doubt he was a good actor. Vox should’ve had no reason to trust him, but here he was, actually thinking Angel was keeping his end of the bargain.
The dumb fucker.
Before the cigarette reached Vox’s mouth, Angel Dust dropped it in the glass then poured the glass over Vox’s head. The TV demon’s screen went static; when his face returned, his eyes were shut and his mouth was a closed, squiggly line.
“Fuck you, Vox,” Angel Dust said quietly. He wanted to scream in rage, but the closest he could manage was a fierce whisper. “You think the hotel matters to me anymore? You think anything at all matters to me anymore? Do whatever you want. I don’t give a single goddamn shit.”
When all Vox did was hop from corner to corner and wobble to shake the Scotch off him, Angel Dust added, “Aw, Vox, I thought you’d be getting off. Destroying people’s lives usually gets you hard. Uh, but I guess that can’t happen for obvious reasons. Hmm.” Angel Dust thought for a moment then smiled slightly. “When you get a new body, maybe your new dick will be enough for Val. God knows, your old one wasn’t.”
Vox’s gaze snapped up to Angel Dust. It took him a moment to absorb the comment, as if he’d never thought Angel Dust would dare talk to him like that. Brows drawn and eyes narrowed, he mutely shouted up at him.
Angel Dust tapped his chin. “Huh, I guess Alastor didn’t want you either. It’s funny—the whole time I was at the hotel, he never mentioned you. Not once! Ain’t that funny, huh?”
Electricity began crackling along Vox’s head and he began hopping up and down. He could only make it a few inches off the ground. Angel Dust giggled.
“And, ooof, forget about Hell caring about you, with all the mess you made. How’s it feel, knowing no one gives a shit about you?” He snickered. “Look at me, Voxxy baby—I’m just a braindead addict whore, but even I had people who cared about me.” They shouldn’t have, but Vox didn’t need to know that. “Now we’re brothers in misery. Here’s to us, huh?” He went back to the liquor cabinet, took the bottle of Scotch, drained a few mouthfuls, and walked back to Vox. “I’ll give you some booze this time. For real. Honest. Cross my heart and hope to die. You just gotta lean back a little, brace for it, open your mouth and stick your tongue out. Like you’re sucking a dick. You’ve done it before. C’mon, you know Val talks about what you two get up to when you’re alone....”
Electricity flared bright blue. Angel Dust’s vision flashed white then black, and he found himself on his back on the other side of the room, his shoulders, neck and head throbbing with agony. Every breath hurt. Through his blurry vision, he saw Vox, hopping and screaming.
“Go ahead,” he rasped. “Kill me. Do it.”
Vox stopped screaming. He met Angel Dust’s gaze and grinned.
Then blackness again.
He woke to Val screaming in Spanish at Vox. “You dickless motherfucker! How dare you! He’s mine! Just like everything and everyone in this fucking tower is! You think you’re calling the shots anymore, you asshole?” Glass crunched beneath someone’s feet.
Angel Dust’s lids slowly opened. He saw Vox, screen cracked until it was mostly gone. The image on his screen was a blue error-screen, which flickered now and then to show static with a hint of squeezed-shut eyes and a jagged mouth. Val was looming over him, wings spread, squeaking and screaming. Ethan was on his knees, sweeping glass with a small broom into a dust-pan. Looking around, Angel Dust saw Velvette, Melissa and Travis standing near the door to Val’s penthouse suite. Both Velvette and Melissa were on their phones. Travis tugged at his tie awkwardly as he watched his Vee, his feather tufts drooping.
Vox’s eyes and mouth grew clearer, though his screen was still staticky. “I’ll re-re-re-re-remember this, fuck-fuck-fuck-fucker.” His voice couldn’t settle on a pitch, going up and down, static hissing beneath his words. “Call your-your-yourself CEO, Val? Hah! You won’t last a week. You’re pathetic! Every-every-everyone knows it. When I come back, I’ll throw-throw-throw-throw you out and send you back where I found you.”
Angel Dust realized his entire life was now dictated by stupid, screaming children. Tears welled up in his eyes.
In one of his last therapy sessions with Charlie, he’d confessed something that still made his stomach clench when he thought about it. “I miss Vee Tower.” He’d shaken his head. “Even when I’m here. When I’m there, it’s like I’m driving full throttle, speeding around corners, ready to react in a second. But, here, I can drive slower, take in the scenery, smell the roses and shit. I…I should like that. I want to like that. But part of me misses the high of the Tower. Part of me always will, probably.”
“Okay. Okay!” Charlie had flipped frantically through her notes, cross referencing with a big book called ‘Therapy in Hell: Belphagor’s Guide to Mental Health’. “So, what I’m hearing you say, Angel, is that staying at the Hazbin Hotel gives you time to reflect instead of just react. Do I have that right?”
Charlie usually repeated what he’d just said while she tried to think of something a real therapist would say. “Uh, sure. Not sure how much reflectin’ I did, though. If you heard half the ways I sexually harassed Husk the first few months I was here, you’d’a kicked me out.” He’d blushed. “Not sure why that stubborn bastard still puts up with me.”
She’d written a few more notes in his giant file then threw her pencil down, left her chair and held his hand, crouching in front of him. “Angel, I...er, don’t know what to say.”
He’d chuckled bleakly. “Finally stumped you. I knew I would.” At the time, she hadn’t even known about him killing his father. “Whoopie for me.”
“I wish you were talking to someone who knew what she was doing.” She’s dropped her gaze, sighing. “You deserve that. But what I can tell you is that you have friends here who love you and have your back. We can work through this. You can learn to enjoy the slow life. I’ll help you find the way, even if I don’t know how yet.”
“Can you go back in time and stop me from signing a soul contract with Val?” he’d joked, reaching down and squeezing her hand.
“I would if I could.” In sudden panic, she’d looked at their entwined hands and leapt back. “Oh shit, oh shit, the book was very clear about not crossing physical boundaries unless initiated by the client OH GOD ANGEL I’M SO SORRY—”
“Hey, hey, kiddo, you’re good! You’re fine! Don’t stress, Charlie.”
“AND NOW YOU’RE COMFORTING ME AND THAT’S THE OPPOSITE OF WHAT SHOULD BE HAPPENING....”
Sometimes, a Charlie freakout just needed to run its course. Angel Dust had gone to get a glass of water and let her calm down.
Tears began falling down Angel Dust’s face. He’d been a person at the hotel. Now, he was just a fucking cartoon character being taken care of by Saturday morning cartoon villains. Having tasted a moment of being human, going back hurt more than he ever thought possible.
He’d told Husk and Cherri Bomb to forget they ever knew him. Only now did he realize he had to forget he ever knew them if he wanted to stay sane. This was his life now. He had to accept it.
A shadow fell over him. Angel Dust turned his aching head to see Travis, who awkwardly tried to help him stand. He could barely move, and he cried out in pain, sliding back down to the floor.
Val was at his side in an instant. “Angie, are you okay?” He picked Angel Dust up and set him gently down on the couch he’d been sleeping on all evening. “If fucking Kitty were around, she would’ve reported this to me immediately and I could’ve stopped it. I’m so sorry, baby. I should’ve realized Vox could hurt you even if you couldn’t hurt him.”
Vox was still screaming through a staticky, malfunctioning voice, though Angel Dust couldn’t piece together many real words he was saying. The click of a remote left a sudden, beautiful silence.
“I’ll babysit the old fucker,” Velvette said coldly. “C’mon, Val, we’ve got—”
“Velvette!” he snapped. “I’m taking five fucking minutes to make sure Angie’s okay.” He met her gaze, squeaking. “I’m CEO, aren’t I? That means you do what I say.” A lower hand became a fist. “Remember that, baby doll.”
Velvette stared back, cool and unimpressed. “And you remember what happened the last time a Vee forgot what the word ‘compromise’ meant, mate.” She grabbed a muted Vox then she and Melissa left Val’s penthouse. Ethan, having swept up the glass, quickly followed her.
“Travis, see if Velvette needs help with anything. I’ll join you in five.” Travis nodded at his Vee and hustled after Velvette.
Gently, Val stroked Angel Dust’s hair as he cried and said goodbye to every friend he’d ever made at that fucking hotel. At least Val didn’t ask why he was crying. His boss probably thought he was crying from the pain of being electrocuted into unconsciousness or death.
“Shhh, shhhh,” Val cooed. “It’s okay. Soon, it’ll be like this never happened. Just a bad dream.”
“Good.” Angel Dust needed that more than Val knew.
“Just rest, mi corazoncito. Do you want some more pills?”
Angel Dust reminded himself that all he needed to do was survive the next 10 minutes. He nodded, and Val brought him some more benzos, which he dry swallowed.
“Sleep tight, baby. Get your strength up. I’ll be needing you for a lot more projects real soon.”
Val was stroking his hair. That was nice. His world narrowed down to that sensation. Don’t think about those ominous projects in the future. Don’t think about the past. Just survive the next 10 minutes, then the next 10, then the next.
“Thanks, Val,” he slurred before he dropped off to sleep and didn’t have to think at all.