THE SOUND OF LOUD EXAGGERATED MOANS can be heard coming from the television, following with the sound of gags and groans and disgruntled remarks from the others who sit around and watch Angel's proud...show and tell movie.
The first show and tell day at the hotel, and he had to show that? As if anyone here actually wants to see that.

Husker--much like you--doesn't pay attention to the movie, refusing to let his eyes linger, to avoid the disgusting feeling of watching such a thing.
"Jesus," he mutters under his breath while he cleans a glass a little more aggressive than normal.

You couldn't have said it better.

Deep down you understand that Angel's lifestyle was a choice...though at the same time...you're beginning to sense that it's no longer by choice.
All because of one individual, who gave you the honor of...offering his card to you the day you went to the Overlord meeting.

Filthy bastard. You understand that this place is Hell, but someone like Valentino might be pushing it too far.
You just hope that one day Karma will knock on Valentino's door.

Your back faces your friends and the TV, your shoulders slouched forward as your arms rest on the countertop. You're physically here, but your mind is elsewhere. Hundreds of miles away...deep in thought.

You haven't exactly been feeling like yourself...due to the...certain little incident a week ago. How could you have been so stupid? And to make it worse, Alastor has refused to look or even speak to you since that night. In fact...you haven't really SEEN him lately. Charlie's claim was because he had urgent business and was needed elsewhere, though what kind of business, she couldn't say.

But you can sniff a lie from truth, and that was definitely a lie. The real reason behind his absence? He just doesn't want anything to do with you anymore. As expected.

Of course, you deserve the cold shoulder. You came into his room uninvited and saw him in his most vulnerable state.
You came to see his insecurity, something he views as weakness, though to your eyes...it's the definition of strength.

To his eyes, those scars may be ugly, horrid, something to hide away. But to you, they're beautiful, a reminder of how strong he truly is, how he made it out of such situations--whatever they may be. How he was able to come as far as he is.
Those are how you view his scars.

You just wish you had the courage to go up to his face and tell him how you see him, but alas, your lips are sewn shut whenever the opportunity presents itself.
Call it fear, embarrassment, or even insecurity. You just can't bear his mock or ridicule.

"Hold up, I gotta take this," Angel suddenly stands up, which breaks your train of thought. "Yeah?"

You look and see Angel pace the door out of the corner of your eye, your attention solely on him since you noticed the sudden shift in energy.
His demeanor went from lazy...to now tense, nervous.

You clench your shot glass.
There's only one demon who can make the smile from Angel's face fall, the one demon who makes Angel mask his true self...the one who twists Angel into a version suitable for his own selfish gain. The one who will kill him if Angel doesn't fulfill his every want and desire.

Valen, fucking, tino.

"Yeah, yeah I'll be there..." Angel hangs up, the flicker of slight nervousness on his face at whatever was said over the phone call.
Out of the entire room, full of confused eyes and expressions, yours is on guard, all knowing.

"Well, looks like Val needs me for an...emergency shoot," Angel tries to chuckle, but his voice cracks ever so softly at the end, his one giveaway that whatever it is Val--Valentino--wanted...it's not good.

Immediately, Charlie gets on her feet to go and stop Angel, but you beat her to it, running for the door as Angel begins to close it behind him.
Charlie means well, but she isn't able to try and stop someone without getting walked all over.

Hence why, you--someone who won't take no for an answer--are perfect for this situation.

"Angel," you say when you step outside, watching his white head of hair disappear down the hill. Though you don't let him get away. You won't let him get away.

You speed walk down the graveled road, before taking off in a sprint when you realize he's not listening to you.
"Angel, can you please wait for just a minute?" You call out, before your desperate voice turns into a low growl at his lack of response. "Angel Dust!"

The sound of his name leaving your lips in a deep, low, growl causes Angel to halt, flipping around and tilting his pink sunglasses up in a sassy manner. Obviously, he's on a tight schedule and can't waste a single minute, but he'll make an exception for you since...you're the type that doesn't like being denied.

But at the same time, it's not like he WANTS to rush over to the studio.
He tries not to shudder.

"Can it wait toots, I'm gonna be late," he says, annoyed at your sudden chasing after him. You stare at him, your head slightly shaking when you stop about a foot away from him.
"Don't go there."

Those simple three words...don't go there. It wasn't a demand, or a sentence spoken while lacking intention...it was a plead.

A plead his own heart repeatedly begs. But such things are out of his reach. Not all demons got it easy like you, he wants to say, but he bites his tongue to be respectful. You haven't done or said anything to purposely hurt Angel...he doesn't want to hurt you.

With a sigh, Angel places a firm yet comforting hand on your shoulder. "I can't..."

"Angel--"

"Y/N," both hands place on your shoulders, his head tilted downward to meet your eye level. "You know I can't."

"Yes, you can," you respond firmly, your hands reaching to grab his arms to squeeze them. "I don't need to see it to understand what's behind that smile of yours. I know what he does to not just you, but to everyone. Please," your voice becomes desperate, "just stay here. Whatever threat Valentino tries to throw, let me handle--"

"No no no no no," he suddenly interrupts, his hands gripping your shoulders in a tight manner, to the point where you shake from his shaking. "You are going nowhere near Val, Y/N."
You hear the desperation hidden by the growl of his voice, and your eyes soften. He's trying to protect you...how cute.

You shake your head, dismissing him. "I can handle anything, I'm--"

"Look babe, I know you're Zestial's kid, you're an Overlord, and you're powerful as fuck. But just because you got all those things to back you up doesn't mean you'll win every time," he tugs his sunglasses over his eyes once more. An attempt to hide the glint. "I don't want you to put yourself at risk for someone like me. I'm..." he trails off, swallowing the sudden lump that formed in his throat.

For years, he's tried not to speak these words aloud, knowing full well that they will break him completely if he does. But even the strongest drug, the prettiest lie, couldn't mask this truth.
The truth that had been engrained in him so much...that it's permanently Valentino's mark on him.

"I'm not worth it," he finishes.

Your eyes widen. "Angel--"
A sudden kiss to your head makes you stop, your insides twisting as you inhale a sharp breath.
"Just sit tight, alright?" he brushes his fingers gently through your hair, twisting it in his fingers, a melancholy smile on his face. "I'll be back soon, and then you can kick my ass at Uno, sound fun?"

You don't respond, a clear enough sign that you want to resist, but your tongue remains bitten.
"Alright," Angel sighs, standing up a little straighter and trying to give you his best stage smile. "See ya around."

"Yeah, sure," you mumble, one hand grasping your other arm, your eyes following Angel's every move as he walks the rest of the way down the hill and disappears in the mass crowd of demons.
A wave of uneasiness waves over you, and you shudder.
You can't stop what is about to come...and you know that if you run after him and follow him into Valentino's dungeon, it'll only be worse for Angel.

It's best...that you remain on the outside on this.
Though you vow that you won't be looking in for too long.

✡✡✡

The clock ticked...and it tocked...and it ticked...and it tocked...

Past midnight. Still no sign of Husker, or Angel.
You sit nervously in your hotel room, hands clenched in between your legs as your feet tap against the flooring, the heels of your shoes leaving a dent.

An hour ago, when Angel came back, you saw the bruising on his arms and neck, and the added black eye to his face. Markings that were added from Valentino. Sickening...when you looked close enough at Angel's face, you saw the initial V on his cheek.

Valentino must have been wearing rings tonight.

Instinct caused you to run up to him and ask him if it's okay...but you should have known that by doing so only pushes them away further.

And so, after you had received a harsh insult, you sat by and witnessed Angel and Husker blow up at each other, before Angel--in a mental breakdown state--rushed out of the hotel, slamming the door behind him hard enough for a framed glass photo to fall and shatter against the floor.

Vaggie demanded that Husk go after Angel and try to get him back, which he did.
But since then...they both haven't returned.
The feeling of dread makes you sick to your stomach now. What is going on with the both of them, you pray it isn't bad.

Your eyes continue to glance at the clock over and over again, each passing second only adding more worry to your subconscious.
At some point, you can't take anymore of it.

You rise to your feet, your hand grabbing your clock off it's hook and running out of the hotel to go and scour the streets for any sign of Husker and Angel.
You search the warfare grounds, managing to avoid being shot or blown up by luck only. Then you pass by Cannibal town--you pay no mind to it. This is Angel Dust and Husker, they wouldn't go to a place like Cannibal town.

Though as you passed Cannibal town...you caught the eye of someone.

Your walking turns to running, as you enter the Vees side of the Pentagram. Any demon in your way, you instantly squeeze and push through, desperate to see the end of the sidewalk to find the familiar face of your friends.

The weight on your chest becomes heavier, and it's getting to the point where one inhale of breath is a struggle.

Not due to running, but due to the fear of what's possibly happening with Angel and Husker.

You leap forward, before the sudden shout and cry of a man catches your attention, forcing you to skid in your tracks and freeze.

"It's not an act! It's who I need to be!"

Angel.

You instantly flip around, stepping off to an alleyway and peeking around the wall to see Angel, clenched fists at his side, and his eyes...full of tears, as he stands in front of Husker.

A silent gasp leaves your lips as you lean down to better hide in the shadows.

"And this, this is my escape," he croaks, hands brought to his chest while his eyes stare out at the club in front of him.
His escape from the abuse from Valentino.

All the while...his escape, is an abuse to himself.
"A place where I can go and get high, and not have to worry about my struggles, and maybe...if I break myself just enough, I won't be his favorite toy anymore. Maybe... maybe he'll let me go."

Let me go...

Angel collapses on the sidewalk, his face buried in his knees to shield himself from the world, from Husker, from Valentino.

Everyone.

Your heart grows heavy, shattering to little pieces, cutting you from the inside out. Your head fills with the memories of you and Angel, the time you met, the two of you working side by side to rebuild the hotel, the silly moments when the two of you stayed up and chatted about anything and everything.

Your insides break...though it isn't a dull pain...it's burning...to the point where the pain slowly morphs into that of a burning rage. As how you've always handled your pain, turn it into anger, and unleash it.
Your hand clenches into a fist, before a little smirk forms on your face as an idea comes to mind.

Why wait for someone or some force to handle the problem...when you are capable of handling it on your very own?

Gingerly, you reach into your pocket and pull out a palm sized card with the name Valentino scribbled on it, attached to a phone number.
You almost tossed this little piece of garbage away the day he gave it to you...though as your father once said, it's always good to keep your friends close...

And...keep your enemies closer.

Approaching a phone booth, you begin to press the dial pad, before raising the phone to your ear, every now and then glancing over your shoulder to watch as Husker and Angel talk, though the conversation is too quiet to be heard.

The phone clicks, and an angry voice yells on the other end. "What?! I swear if it's--"

"It's me," you respond, your finger twisting and twirling the spiral phone cord, while you lazily lean against the wall with one leg propped up for balance. You put on your best, sweet voice, the type of voice that a single word could seduce a man

"I've taken your offer into consideration..." you smirk, your eyes glowing, a sign that screams dangerous. "So how about we discuss the terms of a contract? Let's say...tonight? Does an hour from now work for you?"

The call is silent, almost as if Valentino is dumbstruck from realizing that it's Zestial's daughter who called him in the middle of the night, but before long, you can hear the smooth, deep chuckle through the phone.

"Ahh, how delightful to finally hear from you, baby cakes"--you can sense his sultry smile--"that works for me. I'll be waiting for you, and when you arrive, we'll go over contracts..." he licks his lips, though to your ears, it sounds like a slurp, "I must add that...all my contracts come with samples."

Samples, more like, he needs to test out his employee.

You pretend to giggle in a way that's purposely used to excite him. "I'll be there."
"Mmm good," he exhales, "see you soon, baby."
The call drops, and you put the phone back on its hook on the booth, inhaling a breath and raising a hand.

With a snap of your fingers, your outfit changes to that of a forest green dress that stops just above your knees, hugging your waist and revealing the shape of your curves and breasts, while the spaghetti straps of the dress hang tightly on your shoulders.

Your hair gets styled into a bun, hung up with a diamond studded hair-tie, while your face is masked with makeup such as eyeshadow, blush, mascara, and plump red lipstick.
You glance into a nearby puddle to see your reflection, just to make sure everything is perfect.

And when you see no flaws, you smirk, tugging the straps of your dress up as you walk towards the direction of Valentino's studio.
You knew he couldn't resist you...he's much too easy.

Little does he know that by accepting your call...he's made the worst mistake of his life. That the player will get played in the end.

After all, Karma's a bitch, and she's wearing a green dress, on her way to knock on Valentino's door for a visit.