Carlos was a man of science, firm in his beliefs in logic and physics and Newton's Laws, and so far Night Vale had defied everything Carlos had known to be true. The scientific anomaly with time being a separate or otherwise non-applicable variable in accordance with how days and weeks passed in the town. The random appearances and disappearances of John Peters' oranges with a seeming random pattern, which neither he nor his scientists could understand. He had lost a good many men to the mysteries and strange happenings in town, and he was sad to say he was the only one left.

However, there was one thing that made it work his loneliness; Cecil Palmer.

Cecil had been the strangest thing about moving to Night Vale, just shy of muttering into a phone as the dial tone went on to get someone to pick up his government paperwork, and he had certainly taken some getting used to. He had somehow known he had come into town, even though he hadn't even spoken with the mayor yet, or seen any cameras or reporters, and he had been mortified at what he'd heard. Perfect hair, perfect teeth -set like a military cemetery-, and he had been too embarrassed to hear the end of it.

There had been many more broadcasts, and so many more anomalies and adventures to be had investigating Cecil's captivating city, and he was embarrassed to admit he had gotten close, too close. He had never meant to get so involved with Cecil, not when he was so suave and wonderfully innocent, but he hadn't been able to help himself. Cecil was charming, and cultured, and he was more than accommodating considering Carlos knew nothing about the ways of the Night Vale community, and he had gladly helped the scientist sort daily occurrences from disastrous happenstances.

And Carlos had fallen for him, hard. He was kind to him, and nurturing where Carlos needed the extra love and care, and Carlos replied in kind with unwavering loyalty. Cecil was too good for him, he maintained, and Carlos did his best to be worthy of all Cecil's affections. Even the strange ones that sometimes shocked Carlos' foreign mind.

Today, after a long night of sipping whiskey and trying to put his mind and heart down on paper, Carlos was ready to ask Cecil to move in with him. He picked up his cell phone, lingering with the device at the ready, and he finished his drink in one gulp as he hit 'DIAL'. He'd typed the number in shakily, biting his lip, and he pressed it to his ear.

"Ah, mi querido, it's me." He said, hearing the man on the other end inhale to greet him. "Before you say anything, I need to get this off my chest, so just let me finish before you say a word. Please? Por Favor?" He knew Cecil loved hearing him speak to him in Spanish, so he made an effort to do so as he held the phone to his ear more certainly. He cleared his throat. "Tesoro, mi amor, you're always so good to me, and I've been thinking... you said earlier your place has gotten too small for you, and that you wanted a place that allows pets. I have extra room for both of us since my assistants left, and you know I'd love to wake up to you more, mi luna y mis estrellas."

He rubbed a hand over his face, sighing softly, and he stared dazedly at his empty whiskey glass. "What I'm saying is, I love you. You know I love you. And I know you love me, even if I don't deserve you, so... would you consider moving in with me?"

There was a moment of silence, a distant sigh that was lovesick and sugar sweet, and Carlos' eager grin fell to a horrified gape as the voice on the other end replied. It was not Cecil -definitely not Cecil- and Carlos felt a cool line of terror slither down his spine.

Kevin.

"Oh, Carlos! If this isn't just a tip-top surprise! I would never have guessed you felt this way about me, least of all with how serious you and dear Cecil have become!" Kevin crooned, the tragic beep of the 'ON AIR' sign reaching Carlos' ears, and he couldn't believe it in his own shock. He was drunk, horrified to hear him go on about how happy he was to hear from him, and about how he'd talk to his studio management.

"No, no, this is a mistake!" He groaned, trying to get himself together. "No, I- I called Cecil, and-"

"Hmmm, I bet my managers will let me relocate no problem with how productive you and I could be combined!" He giggled, "This is going to be oodles and oodles of fun, Carlos, I can't wait to see you, and I know Ricardo-."

"I'm sorry, no!" Carlos protested, "I called Cecil! I didn't mean- please don't ask them, it's alright!"

"But I suppose the three of us can figure out something. I know a bed won't be a problem if Ricardo brings his! Bye bye, 'carrido'!"

Carlos was still sitting there, shocked and drunk, when Cecil came rushing in half an hour later. He hadn't moved, frozen in horror, and he stared up at Cecil in terror.

"Carlos?" He called, quivering in the doorway.

"Cecil..." Carlos mumbled, his voice slurring and the smell of whiskey thick in the room. "I... what did I do?"