Chapter 9 – The Scout

A dour cloud followed Buster, but the optimism he stanned so much served as his figurative umbrella. However, every now and then the cloud would swell and threaten to overwhelm him with its downpour. With a mostly uneventful day and dusk around the corner, Buster was hoping the cloud was cutting him some slack today.

Sitting at the dining room table, a fork in one hand picking at a eucalyptus salad, and his phone in the other, Buster indulged in a quiet meal. Eating in the den was out of the question; there was very little respite to be found from his current predicament on the TV. He resorted to reading through his newsfeed, pre-filtered by Ash to block any instance of his or Jimmy Crystal's names, as he munched away at the salad, which seemed to have a muted flavor.

Unfortunately, while setting up the filter, Ash had forgotten to block out Walter Kilborn's name as well. News related to The Real Deal occasionally seeped through the feed, and confirmed what Buster feared: As the story spread, it became more sensationalized by influencers and other clout chasers in desperate attempts to draw attention to themselves. He scrolled over one of those annoying auto-play videos by a Shiba Inu influencer with an unflattering picture of Buster taken from the Kilborn interview as the thumbnail. Several red arrows pointed at Buster's face with the caption "HATES WOLVES?" next to them.

"I'll break down how Buster Moon expertly wields loaded and hurtful language that evokes prejudices and stereotypes against wolves!" the Shiba said as the video started on its own.

"PUT a MUZZLE on HIM!" Buster heard himself suddenly shout out of the screen. He was taken aback, at a loss for where that soundbite even originated from. After racking his brain for a minute, he remembered that instance from the interview.

His lawyers put a muzzle on him for a reason, and that's because they know he did it!

"Oh, that's taken completely out of context!" Buster complained. He was pretty sure the sound levels were altered to make it come across as sinister. Best to ignore it and leave this kind of nonsense alone.

That was easier said than done. Buster kept scrolling through the feed but found his mind squarely focused on that video. It wasn't the first time someone suggested he was prejudiced against wolves, but today he couldn't just let it slide. Before he knew it, he was back on the video, this time furiously typing away a response in the comments section.

"This is Buster Moon and I DO NOT hate wolves! I would appreciate it if you STOPPED spreading these LIES. It wouldn't matter if Jimmy Crystal were a WOLF or another KOALA, my gripes with him are based SOLELY on him being an as—"

No, he couldn't say that. He wasn't a vulgar person; he'd landed himself in hot water once before with that word. He erased that last one.

"Being a JERKFACE," he finished typing, feeling accomplished. Just before he could send the comment, the screen suddenly changed as the phone rang and vibrated.

Unknown caller.

Could be more reporters hounding him for quotes.

Could be another spam call about his car's warranty.

...

Could be an opportunity.

He took a chance and answered the phone. "Buster Moon at your service!"

"Oh, this is Buster?" the voice said in surprise. He sounded younger, maybe mid-twenties in age. "This is Alex Brook from StoryBrook Productions. We want to do a documentary about your life."

It took a second for Buster to find his voice. "You want to do a documentary about me...?"

"More of a docudrama, really. We find your story very interesting and we think the world will too. We're tentatively calling the film 'Receptacle of Lies: The Buster Moon Story.'"

A lump formed in Buster's throat. "Is this a joke? I'm not giving you the okay on some smear documentary."

"That's not how this works, buddy," Alex chided. "We don't actually need your permission to do a documentary about you. Besides, the Lifetime network and Netflix already showed interest in the project, so this is probably happening whether you like it or not."

Buster hung up.

The page with the video didn't save his comment, and with the fire inside him extinguished, he had no desire to retype it. He was also rapidly losing his appetite for a salad that was honestly pretty mediocre. The cloud wasn't necessarily swelling, but small moments like this could pile up and take a toll. On top of that, money would be getting tight soon. Porsha offered to dip into her trust fund; naturally, Buster refused. That was a short-term solution and she'd be worse off in the long run, not to mention her father's unpredictability. There was no telling how long she'd even have access to it.

Burying his face in his palms, Buster fought back the feeling of absolute failure. His phone sprung to life again, but he didn't think he could take another surprise like that documentary. After a few rings, he peeked through the space between his fuzzy fingers and saw a name that significantly brightened his mood: Suki Lane.

Buster snatched the phone up with such haste that it almost flew out of his hand. "Suki!" he answered. "How are you?"

What Buster heard next made his ears bounce in elation.

Porsha strolled into the kitchen for a quick drink, but as she poured a glass of lemonade, her ears perked up in her everlasting quest of curiosity. Buster's phone conversation barely registered with her initially, but he'd done something she remembered her father doing countless times when she was suddenly within the vicinity while he was on the phone: the quieting voice. She never cared much for her father's business dealings, but she couldn't imagine why Buster felt the need to keep her out of whatever this was.

And if she couldn't imagine it, that meant she had to get to the bottom of it.

Sipping her lemonade, Porsha found herself edging closer and closer to the dining room until she had full sight of Buster. The koala pulled his phone away to gaze at the screen with wonder before pulling it back up to his fluffy ear.

"You weren't kidding!" He said, his words charged with excitement. "The architecture reminds me of the Sydney Opera House."

Porsha narrowed her eyes. "Hmm..."

"Yes, yes... I understand. It's a bit of a longshot, but you know me. I stan optimism!" Buster's face fell a bit. "...Are you laughing? Anyway, I'll meet you there in about an hour, all right? See you there."

Buster abandoned his salad and was already at a near-sprint when four words caused him to freeze in his tracks.

"What was that about?" Porsha asked.

Frozen like a statue in mid-run, leg in the air, Buster slowly craned his neck to the wolf girl holding the glass of lemonade.

"Nothing you need to worry about," he said.

"Uh huh," she murmured, watching as Buster headed for his room at a more leisurely pace.

Buster parked himself in front of his mirror, took a brush and went to work on the fur atop his head. Once he was satisfied, he put on one of his white button-up shirts and played with the sleeves.

"Sleeves rolled up makes it look like I'm ready to get to work... or get into a fight. Sleeves rolled down looks professional but stuffy. Maybe one sleeve up and one down? Okay, now I just look like a slob. Both sleeves down, I guess."

The lowest drawer of Buster's dresser held all his bow ties, neatly arranged. As he picked one with a particularly vibrant shade of red, he felt a presence monitoring him.

"Porsha, I know you're out there."

The wolf girl casually entered his room as if that were the plan all along and leaned against the doorframe. "We both know I'm not going to leave this alone until you spill it. So, spill it!"

Buster gave a quick sigh "If you must know... Suki caught word that a hotel called the Redshore Reef wants us to perform. The owner is looking to host us at their outdoor theater. We're going to meet him and check the place out."

"Never heard of that place. They're not afraid of my dad?"

"Apparently not."

Porsha watched Buster with a faint smirk as he folded the tie into a clean bow around his neck. He could see her face out the corner of his eye and he didn't quite like that look—like she knew some secret he didn't, or worse, that she had sussed out one of his own.

"This definitely explains why you picked that bow tie," she said.

"What? This isn't any different from the others."

"Most of them are red. This one is scarlet. I know my colors. You're trying to impress somebody."

"Of course! If this works out it could put us back on the map!"

"That's not what I meant, and you know it. This is for Suki, isn't it?"

Buster let out an exaggerated, dismissive laugh. Porsha, undeterred, knelt next to the koala. In the mirror, Buster could see her face sliding ever closer until her mouth was just a breath away from his right ear.

Then came a whisper.

"I ship it."

Buster's eyes were wide as saucers. "Whaaaaaat? Nooooo..."

He climbed the dresser and grabbed Petrichor, a teardrop-shaped bottle of cologne whose scent was a breezy mixture of citrus zest, earthy spices, and a hint of mint. What was supposed to be a spritz or two erupted into an engulfing cloud that left Buster and Porsha coughing from overexposure.

"That was an accident!" Buster cried.

Porsha giggled. "I know that cologne; that's premium stuff. My dad has it too."

Buster scoffed at the thought of smelling like Jimmy Crystal. Suki spent years working with that incorrigible wolf; if she caught a whiff of this fragrance, would she see Buster, or would he be overridden with bad memories of Crystal?

Why was he even thinking of something like that?

He shook it off and opened the rideshare app on his phone to request a pickup.

"You're barking up the wrong tree," Buster said. "Anyways, keep this quiet for now."

"If it's not a date, why's it a secret?"

He scowled. "It's not a date! I don't want to get anyone's hopes up before I'm sure this is a real opportunity, all right?"

Buster left his room and went into the den. Now all he had to do was play the waiting game, and he did that by pacing. He was starting to regret that Porsha hadn't followed; her pestering was keeping his mind from racing. This Suki business on top of whether or not the Redshore Reef was their next gig in the city left him a jittery mess, like he'd drank too much coffee despite not having any all day.

After what felt like an eternity and a trench worn into the floor from his pacing, Buster's ride arrived. He slipped on his suit jacket and headed for the door. Porsha popped back up just in time to see him off.

"Break their legs!" she called affectionately.

"Uhh... did you mean 'break a leg?'"

"Oh." Porsha thought about it. "I guess my dad's been saying it wrong all this time."

"Yeah..." Buster said with a nervous chuckle.

A warthog in a mahogany sedan waited in front of the villa on Macalester Road. Buster was gracious as he met his driver. He hopped into the backseat and they pulled off, leaving the suburbs behind on the journey to the Redshore Reef Hotel.

Their destination was strip-adjacent. Buster watched through the window as the world around him, under a setting sun, gradually declined. Graffiti popped up here and there, the roads grew bumpy and coarse, the architecture boldly wore its warts and wrinkles, and the mobs of tourists thinned out and effectively vanished. If the strip was the domain of the haves, then naturally there must be a realm for the have-nots.

Most of the hotels and businesses in this part of town were, for lack of a better word, rinky-dink. Buster had done light reading on the history of the city and knew this district was what people had come to call "Old Redshore." Before the tycoons and the conglomerates moved in and started building skyscrapers and theme park-esque hotels, this was the heart of the city and the center of commerce and tourism. Now it had fallen by the wayside, and Buster found it shocking how little respect was being given to Redshore's own history.

After passing a few hotels that had seen better days, Buster's driver let him out by the parking lot of the Redshore Reef Hotel. He knew not to expect luxury, but he wasn't quite expecting this.

The most impressive aspect was the sign, highlighted by a large otter with a mass of blonde hair, clamshell bikini top, and torso that ended in a scaly fishtail. Once upon a time, judging by the segmented portions of the tail, the merotter (ottermaid?) welcomed guests to the hotel in an animated dance. Despite the age and lacking functionality, Buster found it charming.

That was about all he found charming about this place. The parking lot was nearly deserted and riddled with rogue weeds, the pavement was webbed with cracks, paint chipped in places, dated building design... the Redshore Reef was a hodgepodge of aquatic and maritime themes. The shape of building was boxy, much like an oversized aquarium with ship portholes for windows. Decorative coral, aged and broken, served as foliage. Buster couldn't help but wonder what the place looked like a few decades earlier. He refused to let that get him down, looking at a possible future instead. If their show could bring people back, it would not only breathe life into this hotel, it could elevate the whole region. All anyone ever needs sometimes is a second chance to prove themselves. In a way, it was like him.

A teal hatchback rolled into the parking lot, and after a moment, a Saluki stepped out of it. Clad in a short, avocado jacket over a silky black shirt, light-colored jeans, and tall boots, Suki was barely recognizable to Buster.

"Buster!" she called to him with a wave. Her voice sent his stomach aflutter with butterflies.

"Thanks, Porsha," Buster mumbled.

You're welcome, he heard her sarcastic reply in his head.

"Suki!" he called back, running over to her. She crouched and pulled him into a hug. The butterflies were doing loop de loops.

"How are you?" she asked, a touch of concern tugging at the corners of her lips as she and Buster pulled apart.

"Oh, you know. I'm hanging in there," Buster said, playfully kicking at one of the weeds springing out of the concrete. "My current plight's not exactly a secret. But how about you? How have things been since you left Crystal Entertainment?"

Suki bit her lip. "I've been doing some work outside of the city... when I can find some."

"Huh? You're one of the best talent scouts around!"

"Am I? I did say you weren't good enough."

"You were making an honest assessment, and everyone makes mistakes sometimes. Besides, being told you can't do something can be just the kick you need to prove the world wrong."

"This isn't exactly about being good enough."

Buster's brows formed pronounced ridges from the depths of his frown. "Is Crystal behind this?"

"Potentially?" Suki said with a quick shrug. "Okay, I'm going to try to explain this as quickly and simply as I can. People like Crystal and all those bigshots that own the top businesses in the city are what people around here like to call the Redshore Oligarchy. Never say that around them; it's not a term of endearment." Buster nodded, making a mental note as Suki continued. "Most of those people can't stand each other—there isn't enough room for all those egos—but they do have some mutual respect. When word got out that I was the one that called the police on Crystal, I was labeled 'disloyal' and became unhirable. Crystal doesn't even have to blacklist me, but he's petty enough that I wouldn't be surprised if he did."

"That's awful! He was clearly out of control, and your talent speaks for itself!"

"Yeah, well, a lot of these bigshots have skeletons in their closets, and a 'snitch' is the last thing they want near them."

Like magnets, Buster's eyes were drawn to Suki. He couldn't look away, not that he wanted to. "You, uh... you look nice."

Suki was caught off guard. She pushed her hair back with a short giggle. "Thanks," she said. "Is that a new bow tie?"

"What, this old thing?" Buster said. He cringed, internally, at the cracking of his own voice.

"Very dapper." Suki turned her attention to the Redshore Reef and pursed her lips as if truly taking it in for the first time. "Looks nothing like the pictures online. Wouldn't be surprised if the reviews I read were bought."

Buster forced a smile. "Now, there's no need to jump to conclusions! This place could be a diamond in the rough!"

"More like zirconia."

Together, they made the trek through the parking lot and entered the compact lobby. They were barely through the door before their senses and sensibility were under assault. Buster tried to stop his nose from wrinkling at the sour, pungent odor wafting through his nostrils. The walls were papered in a chaotic aquatic scene filled with unusually large fish that turned toward the viewer to stare with their hollow eyes. Welcoming them into the lobby was something that was likely shag carpeting at one time, and judging by the splotches, it wasn't originally yellow.

"There he is!" a crested penguin shouted from behind the front desk. "The infamous Buster Moon, in the fur!"

The penguin, wearing khakis, a blue and white Hawaiian shirt, and a ship captain's hat, waddled around the desk. Buster went to meet him but was slightly alarmed by the sticky tile floor gripping his shoes. He lifted his leg and heard a sound like Velcro beneath his foot.

"You have quite the establishment here, Mr..."

"Boyd. Ernie Boyd," the penguin said, reaching his flipper out. Buster shook it and managed a smile.

"And what a distinct aroma, too!"

"Feet," Suki said. "It smells like feet and cigarettes." She had enough mind to stay on the carpet.

Ernie seemingly ignored her. "I'm sure you've noticed. This place has been a bit financially challenged over years and it's taking its toll. You should've seen it in its heyday!" Up close, Buster could tell Ernie was older than him, but the glow in his eyes carried a surprising amount of youthfulness.

"Oh, I've been there," Buster said, briefly reminiscing of the original Moon Theater's last days. "You don't have to explain it to me."

"You want to see the theater, right? No time to waste, eh? Eh? Follow me!" Ernie led them down a hallway that took them out the side of the hotel. They passed a pool that was tinged green enough to be uninviting, and Buster suddenly became aware of how devoid of guests the place was. There's always something a little creepy about large spaces going unoccupied.

Ernie took them to an outdoor section with dozens of small, brightly colored seats arranged in a semicircle and facing a large, smooth block of stone flanked by staircases.

"Here she is!" he said, presenting the scene with the broad wave of his flipper. "Don't be shy. Get a good look!"

Buster and Suki traded long, uneasy looks during the awkward silence that ensued.

"This isn't a theater," Suki said. "It's a slab of concrete with a canopy!"

Dismissively waving away the criticism, Ernie said, "If you open the canopy completely, it's like a bandshell. But you can dress her up any way you need to, I don't care."

Buster grimaced so hard he could've been in physical pain. "H-have you seen our show? There's no way we can even do a dressed down version here!"

"Sure, you can! Call it Out of This World: Unplugged, people love that kind of stuff. You'll figure it out."

Suki started to browse through her phone. "Just curious, how are you going to deal with Crystal's wrath if this happens?"

Ernie had a hearty laugh. "I'm way too low on the totem pole for that rich jerkass. He won't acknowledge that I exist."

And he'd likely be tickled pink knowing Buster and his troupe were reduced to this, Suki thought.

Something inside Buster snapped. He wasn't sure if it was Ernie's continuous laughter and dismissal of any kind of complaint, the surreal and bleak nature of the current situation, or that he was once again being humiliated, this time in front of Suki. Maybe all of the above. "Where are the cameras? Because this has to be a joke or some elaborate prank. This 'stage' is the physical manifestation of depression! I am literally getting depressed looking at this!"

"You're overreacting.," Ernie said. "We can still make this work."

"Overreacting, really?" Suki held up her phone with a picture from the Redshore Reef's website of its supposed theater. "I knew this picture looked familiar. It's some Photoshop Frankenstein abomination combining the Sydney Opera House, Pritzker Pavilion, and maybe some other places I don't recognize. How did you think we'd react expecting that picture but getting a block on the ground with chairs that look like they were swiped from a preschool?"

"Okay, first of all, that school was going to throw away perfectly good seats! Second, I'm not the only one here that's stretched the truth to get by." Ernie folded his flippers, his expression souring. "I thought we could figure something out together but I'm starting to feel attacked right now."

"Now you know how I feel every day!" Buster said, jabbing his finger against Ernie's stomach.

"You think I'm not puttin' my neck out here too? Maybe you forgot but Jimmy Crystal made you radioactive. Working with an entitled little con artist could easily blow up in my face!"

"If I'm entitled it's because my crew deserves the world. Talent should always win out! This situation is all because of grudges and politics! I'm sorry Mr. Boyd, but this isn't going to work."

"Beggars can't be choosers," Ernie shot back. "I need entertainment and you need a venue, unless you've been getting a bunch of offers I don't know about, eh? Eh?" Buster's intense glare told him everything. "Yeah, that's what I thought. You're well on your way to rock bottom, Moon. You need me."

"I'm not quite there yet," Buster said. "But you know what's great about hitting rock bottom, Mr. Boyd? There's only one way left to go, and that's up!"

"Unless you can't," Ernie said, then seemed surprised by his own revelation. "Oh, that's Crystal's game. That's sinister. He's not just dragging you down to rock bottom, he's encasing your shoes in cement, so you'll be stuck down there for the rest of your natural life."

Buster felt a chill in the air, though it was likely the wind. He always found it astounding that Redshore could go from sweltering in the daytime to absolutely frigid conditions at night.

Suki noticed the koala shudder. "This was a huge waste of everybody's time. Buster, let's get out of here before we catch the bubonic plague from this place."

Ernie let out a cynical laugh. "You think you're just gonna go back to the Majestic Palace Theater like you took a short hiatus? I heard they booked the Sing Your Heart Out: All-Stars Tour for the rest of the year. Where's that leave you?"

They took the long way around the Redshore Reef Hotel back to the parking lot, with Ernie following in their shadow, yelling the whole way.

"I was your last chance, Moon! You're finished! Donezo! Washed up! Down and out!"

"You're lucky no one's suing your ass into the ground for false advertising!" Suki snapped.

"Go right ahead, babe! Sue for as much as you want; you can't get blood from a stone!"

Ernie finally backed off once they reached the parking lot, retreating to the hotel lobby but still hovering in the door to occasionally shout at them. Suki unlocked her car and opened the door, only to notice Buster standing a ways off, hands clasped together, appearing particularly vulnerable under the waning sunlight.

"Where's your ride?" she asked.

Buster seemed startled. "Well, we only have the one car, and we usually let the kids use it since they're always bouncing around the city. I can do rideshare."

"No, absolutely not. Hop in."

"You don't have to go out of your w—"

"Alone out here in this part of town, with that jerk yelling at you the whole time, and maybe some creep pretending to do rideshare preying on innocent little guys like you? I wouldn't be able to live with myself if you went missing and they find your fur on the black market in a few weeks."

"Uhhhh... since you put it that way!" Buster practically dove into the passenger's seat. Suki, looking satisfied, jumped behind the wheel and started the car.

"You'll never work in this city again!" Ernie Boyd boomed over the parking lot, but Suki and Buster had already left him and the Redshore Reef Hotel in their dust.

On the drive to Macalester Road, Suki noticed Buster was unusually quiet and had a feeling she knew what was going through his head.

"Don't worry about what that guy said. He's just trying to get under your fur because he's got nothing going for him."

"I know," Buster said, his eyes focused on his lap. "But he was right about Crystal. I'm heading straight for rock bottom at this point and taking everyone with me. It's not like I haven't been there before but... this is the first time someone's actually pushed me down there. And everything I do seems to just backfire..."

"I knew that Kilborn interview was going to be a disaster the moment I heard you were doing it."

"See what I mean? I'm the only one that didn't see that coming, apparently. Sometimes I wonder why I even bother."

"No, don't do that!" Suki's voice was suddenly ignited with passionate anger. "One of the things I like most about you is your unending optimism. I'll never, ever stan anything—except babies, I'll stan babies—so I don't know what that's like, but don't you ever go and lose that quality."

"Don't worry, I won't," Buster said with a chuckle. "It's just... these attacks from Crystal are pretty cunning. I feel like I'm going about this the wrong way."

"I'd describe Crystal as many things, but cunning is not one of them," Suki said.

"Yeah, this doesn't feel like him at all. I haven't known him for very long, but he always came across as more... impulsive than calculating."

By the time they reached the villa, night had fully descended on Redshore. Only the lampposts, porch lights, and the halfmoon beaming above illuminated the street.

Suki parked the car and paused for a moment, head down with her hand touching her chin. "I have this theory..."

"Shoot," Buster said.

"I've got no proof, but if I had to guess I'd say this is all Cleo Keller." She wasn't surprised by the koala's inquisitive stare. "She's one of those fixers. Makes all the bigshots' problems disappear. Met her briefly once or twice a few years back when she and Crystal used to be a thing."

"Are you telling me Crystal might've gotten his ex to try and take me down?"

"It's just a theory," Suki stressed. "Someone's the brains behind this operation and it's definitely not him."

"I'll keep that in mind."

An awkward silence fell between them, one that Buster decided to break.

"It was nice seeing you again, Suki."

The Saluki gave a sheepish smile in response. "You too, Buster. We should do this again sometime... with better results, I hope."

"I'd like that."

Buster climbed out of the car and started up the walkway to the villa. He turned and waved as Suki pulled off. She was gone but the butterflies refused to go with her. Surprisingly, he was feeling pretty okay, all things considered. Fishing his key out of his pocket, he stopped in his tracks when he heard rustling from the tall bushes, and practically screamed when someone burst out of them.

"Don't take my fur!" he cried out.

Porsha, brushing away loose leaves, gave him an odd look. "What?"

"N-nothing," he stammered, hoping she didn't notice him blushing in the moonlight. "What are you even doing out here?"

"Oh, I was just looking for something."

"Out here? What were you even looking for?"

"The truth!" she said, pressing her finger to give his nose a little boop. "How was the date?"

Buster pushed the front door open. "It wasn't a date! And thank goodness it wasn't, or it would've been a disaster."

"You're telling me. Suki didn't even walk you to the door."

Buster fought the urge to roll his eyes, locking the door once they were inside. "That's not the problem. The Redshore Reef was a bust. Just a sleazebag trying to take advantage of our situation."

"Oh," Porsha murmured, failing to hide the disappointment. "Maybe that wasn't the right place for us. Did you have fun with Suki, at least? What was she wearing?"

"Uh... a jacket and jeans."

The wolf girl's face lit up. "Oooo, were they skinny jeans?"

"I don't know. Are... are there fat jeans?"

Porsha experienced a parade of facial expressions: Disbelief, confusion, amusement, and maybe a little bit of revulsion, each one causing Buster's heart to sink a little deeper. "Oh my gosh, I can't believe you just said that!"

Buster couldn't either. "This conversation is making me feel old and lame. I think I'm going to get some sleep. Good night, Porsha."

"Oh, okay... see you in the morning." Porsha forced a small smile as the koala left, hoping the mask held up as she wrestled with the distinct and familiar feeling of having screwed up.

Buster, retiring to his bedroom, began to undress when his phone sprung to life once more. Another unknown caller.

Could be Ernie Boyd tracking his number down to finish telling him that his career was over.

Could be a wrong number.

Could be another scam.

...

Did he have it in him to experience one more setback?

One of the things I like most about you is your unending optimism.

Those words filled him with a gentle heat. It couldn't hurt to take a chance.

"Hello, Buster Moon at your service!" he announced into the phone while undoing his bow tie.

"So, I'm an asshole, huh?"

Buster nearly dropped the phone after hearing Jimmy Crystal's voice rumble through.

A/N

I debated if I wanted to ship Buster with anyone. Went through a cycle of possibilities including Eddie (though I prefer them as BFFs rather than BFs) and even an OC, but I liked playing with the dynamic between him and Suki, as well as Porsha's reaction to them. It won't be a big thing going forward, they may not even last, but it's a fun experiment for the moment.