Chapter 31
Moving On
The next day, when Angel Dust walked up to room 262, he psyched himself up for what was coming. He knew what he needed to do; he needed details. All of them. And the only two people who had them were Alastor and Eliza.
One of them was a lot easier to talk to than the other.
Luckily, he had two things going for him; this was both a scheduled appointment and critical information for him moving forward at the hotel. No matter what, if he needed it, he had the shrink by the balls if he accused her of being unprofessional. Still, he felt bad doing that, but if it's what he needed to do to get answers, then he'd do it. This was too important to play nice. Taking a deep breath, he reached out and knocked on the door before letting himself in.
Putting on his best mafia tough-guy swagger, he strutted over to the couch across from her and sat down. "Alright, shrink, we gotta-"
"I know what you want to know," she interrupted. Angel blinked at her; did she just cut him off? No one cut him off in gangster mode, dang it! "Just know that the only reason we haven't talked about it before now is because I feared I'd be crossing professional boundaries by discussing such personal information outside of this room. Now, before we begin, I'd like to know what you know about the situation. You know I went out to see Vox, and while I haven't kept it a secret, Valentino was also involved that night. For what it's worth, I wasn't aware it was him until I arrived. However, I felt… uncomfortable discussing this with my bosses until I let you know, personally, especially given your previous unwillingness to make them aware of your hazardous occupational situation."
As Angel listened, he just stared at her until she finished. Honestly, he hadn't expected it to be this easy. No one ever made it easy. Still, no point keeping any details to himself. "Al told me Big V wants me back at work full-time and wanted to bust the hotel ta make it happen."
The look of sheer relief that came over her features made it clear how happy she was to not be the one to break the news to him. "That is correct. Vox's sabotage was directed at Alastor, but Valentino's involvement seemed to exclusively revolve around bringing you back to the studio. I have yet to make Charlie aware of this, and wanted to check with you before doing so. As this involves the safety of the hotel, I must insist that-"
Angel raised a hand. "Just gonna stop ya there; Bubbles already knows about what happened. I told her last night. She also knows about, um… everything else." At the end of that statement he looked off to the side, eyes downcast. "I know I've been a pain in the ass about all this shit, but… Thanks. For keepin' on me about it, I mean. Heh, wish I told 'er sooner…"
Hesitating for a brief moment, Eliza eventually sighed and took a page out of her clipboard and reached out for him to take it. "Here, Angel, I would like you to take a look at this, please."
Blinking in confusion, Angel obliged and took a peak. After scanning the page, his eyes narrowed. "Wait, what the fuck?!" When he looked back up, the brief flash of anger he felt died back down when he saw how embarrassed and… Wait, was she sad? Why the fuck was she sad?
"I am aware that my feelings toward you and your situation have become less… professional, as of late," she informed him, slowly. "I'm worried that my attachment to you might start interfering with my position as an unbiased third party, and wanted to offer you the opportunity to-" she had to clear her throat before she could continue, as her voice started to choke slightly, "-to request a new therapist."
"...What?" Angel's brain started to falter as he tried to process exactly what she was saying. "Wait, are you serious?"
"Of course, this is entirely professional and will not be seen as a personal slight," she continued. "I will not be offended at all if you feel that-"
Before she got any further, Angel leapt up from the couch and grabbed her shoulders, causing her to stare up in shock. "Are you fuckin' kiddin' me?! Why the fuck would this mean I'd wanna see someone else? Ya tell me you're startin' ta give a shit and expect me ta get some otha freak to sit and talk with? The fuck is wrong with you?"
"I only thought that-"
"Nah, you listen up, damn it!" Angel interrupted, throwing his arms in the air. "I've been ta shrinks before, ya know. Bunch o' crack-pot head-doctors tryin' ta fix me. If my dad wasn't happy wit' one, he got a new one. We cycled through so many freaks because, back then… Do you know what they did to gays back then? Shock chairs, drugs, brainwashing… They planned ta do all that shit, and eventually I ran off an' left the family before they eva got the chance. Most o' them still don't talk ta me!" Eventually he sat back down across from her and slumped over, resting his arms on his legs and drooping his head between his knees. "They tried ta fuck me up good. I know I teased ya on day one 'bout tryin' ta crack me, but ya gotta know… I was bein' more serious than I let on. Psyches have always been nothin' but freaks ta me, but you're the kind o' 'freak' I can deal with. If you're serious 'bout carin', then… Then I don't want someone else ta talk to, K?"
When he looked back up, he saw that she was fighting not to cry. Her facade was holding, but the sheen on her eyes gave away that she was struggling hard to maintain it. After another moment she cleared her throat again. "You have to understand, Angel; this is all very strange to me. I've never been around my clients on a daily basis like this. Are you sure you don't..?"
Angel just gave her a small smile. "Damn straight!" He stood up once again and, summoning his third set of arms, held them out wide. "Look, I know ya like yer space an' shit, but I'm gonna hug ya and you're gonna deal wit' it. Got it?"
Eliza gave a heavily embarrassed nod, standing and bracing herself. When he wrapped her up in all six arms, she gave him a very hesitant pat on the back. Luckily it was a short one, and she felt like she could breathe again once she was released. "Thank you, Angel. This means a lot to me."
"No prob, babe," he chuckled. "I'm just glad ya didn't sell this place out. But hey, I gotta ask: Is there, like, some kinda reason Vox didn't just write the damn contract? I mean, I guess all things considered it was really sudden, but…"
She gave him a small, mischievous grin. "I may have used a less than flattering tone about the ordeal. I always felt like I couldn't trust him, and figured I might be able to see if he was worth the risk. It simply turned out that he wasn't worth it at all."
After a single, harsh laugh, Angel clapped a hand on her shoulder. "Damn, girl, ya got some balls hidden under that skirt! Wish I coulda been there, and Al got ta listen to the whole thing. Lucky bastard!" When she sat back down on her couch, she was surprised and somewhat unsettled when he joined her instead of returning to his own seat.
"Angel," she droned, "we're in a session right now. I've let you get away with a lot this time around because of the subject matter, but please let us return to a more professional setting. We might be more friendly outside, but in here, I'm still your therapist."
"Oh, yea…" he said awkwardly, rubbing the back of his neck before returning to his side of the table. "Kinda forgot there, sorry. And sorry for callin' ya 'babe.' Won't happen again, promise."
Taking a deep breath, she felt relief to finally be able to return to her usual, passive expression and move on from all the emotions that momentarily threatened to spill out of her. "Much obliged. Now, I suppose the best next step is to discuss just how this is going to affect you moving forward. Let's start with healthy coping mechanisms for the trauma to come. Knowing what I know of your boss, I'm sure he's bound to make your life difficult for a while, and since you're serious in your attempt to redeem yourself, we need to keep you from turning to drugs to numb yourself."
Angel nodded, but also sweated a bit beneath his fur. Too late, he already did… Twice. Oops.
By the end of the session, they brainstormed a couple ideas but nothing that seemed productive enough to occupy his off-time. Self-destructive tendencies required a carefully maintained schedule or time-consuming hobby; something to distract him from his problems and give him a sense of accomplishment. For now, they could only postpone the conversation until the next appointment, as they had yet to come up with anything that would be effective enough.
Still, it was nice to learn that Angel Dust apparently enjoyed cooking. Between him and Alastor, she had two very different styles to learn from. Maybe she'd pick their brains about it one day; she'd enjoy learning about Italian cuisine and southern comfort food.
When they exited the therapy room, they both turned sharply when they heard a knock. Charlie stared at them from in front of Eliza's door for a moment before giving a shy chuckle. "Oh, sorry, I didn't realize you had a session right now. Um… are you done?"
"Yea, just finished," Angel announced with a shrug, turning to smirk down at Eliza. "Looks like you're gonna be busy. Catch ya later." Spinning around and waving over his shoulder, he disappeared into his room, picking up Fat Nuggets on his way in and giving the little pig a nuzzle and some baby talk.
Turning to face her boss, Eliza gave her usual sweet smile. "What can I do for you, Charlie?"
When the princess closed her eyes, cleared her throat and composed herself, the therapist quickly realized she might actually be in trouble. That kind of mental preparation meant that she was about to have a very unpleasant conversation. "I… I need to talk to you. In private."
Stepping to the side, Eliza motioned for her boss to enter the therapy room. "If it's a professional discussion, I'd prefer to have it in here. Is that acceptable?"
"Yes." Charlie nodded once before entering, and Eliza shut the door behind her. "I wish to talk about Angel Dust. I know you kept some stuff to yourself about the whole thing with Vox and Valentino, and I want to know why."
Eliza felt her heart sink to her feet. Damn it all, she just had an emotional talk about this. Why did they have to do this now? Still, perhaps she could maintain a professional stance with her boss, despite only just recovering from a near emotional overload. "I was merely waiting for an opportunity to speak to him first, and his next session seemed the best time. I planned to speak to you tomorrow about all this, once I got permission from Angel."
Charlie blinked at her. "Permission? Eliza, this is important! Angel was- no, is- in serious danger! His boss is-"
"Valentino has always been a problem," the therapist droned. "But it was said during a session, and before it ended Angel Dust made it very clear that he didn't want anyone, especially you, to know about it. As a professional, I can't-"
"No, you listen to me," Charlie interrupted, taking on one of the most serious tones Eliza had ever heard from Hell's princess. "Professional or not, you should have told me. It's important for Angel and the hotel that I be told about this sort of thing. I always thought Angel was just acting out, but I never knew how bad it was for him."
"That's for him to-"
"And furthermore," Charlie interrupted, sternly, "he's going after the hotel. No matter what you kept from me before, this is about more than just Angel. This is my business, and if someone's trying to hurt it, I need to know who and why! Angel told me what happened; about how he asked you to keep quiet, and that you got hurt when it happened. I get trying to protect him, but this is not how you keep him safe. From now on, if something like this comes up, you have to tell me immediately. Understood?"
Eliza held her wrist to keep her arm from shaking as her anger only grew. She hated being told how to do her job, but even more, she hated Charlie's disappointed parent vibe. Maybe it was because she hates her own parents with a passion, or the fact that she still felt emotionally raw, but the temptation to lash out was almost painful. "Yes, ma'am."
Charlie looked awkward for a moment, but decided against correcting her employee despite it still feeling very weird being called 'ma'am.' "...OK then! Yes, good, I'm glad we could talk about this. Um, so is there anything else? You know, threat-wise? That I need to know about?"
The way her boss seemed to instantly deflate after such a stern reprimand just made Eliza sigh in frustration. "No, ma'am. There is nothing nor anyone worth mentioning."
"Good!" When her voice practically squeaked, Charlie cleared her throat and repeated in a calmer tone, "Good. Alrighty then, um… Just keep up the good work, I guess! Oh, before I forget; I think Alastor has budgeted your payroll, so that should get started a couple weeks after our next business meeting. We need you to be there, K? I know you're kind of avoiding him, but…"
"That won't be a problem," Eliza answered quickly, relieved to be talking about anything else. "What time is the meeting?"
"Ten in the morning, it's two- no wait, three!- Saturdays from now. Well, I guess I'll see ya there!" With that, Charlie waved goodbye and left the room. Inside, Eliza sat at the computer and held her head in her hand with a tired sigh. Outside, Charlie slumped against the opposite wall and gave a sigh of relief. Unbeknownst to them, the two women briefly thought the exact same thing:
'Well, that was exhausting!'
Yet another Saturday, and another series of performances. It surprised Eliza to see Matiu's name on the list, but she was quite pleased. She had recommended that he try his hand at telling jokes about his family as a way to vent his frustrations, because just about every session she had with him involved dealing with a harsh single dad and his many older siblings. Having studied many birth-order theories, she guessed that since he's the baby of the family he'd probably find it productive to vent for an audience, even if he usually preferred violence over humor. Now it was time to see if she was right. Best case scenario: he does a good job, people laugh and he feels a bit of relief or validation. Worst case scenario: he attacks the first person who tries to boo him off the stage and things escalate quickly. Problematic for Charlie and Vaggie, but also extra data for her work.
All in all, it was a victory no matter the outcome.
She sighed as she remembered how she first got in trouble doing her job. A co-worker in the office tried to accuse her of using her patients as guinea pigs to test theories, but in the end he was fired instead for causing problems in the office and constantly slinging baseless accusations that, when investigated, were quickly thrown out and forgotten. Now that she reflected on it, she could see how the man could get confused; psychiatric care is a delicate thing, but sometimes things needed to be tested before forming complete data on a patient. Many love to take the pharmaceutical approach, quickly diagnosing patients and handing out prescriptions, basking in a fast victory as they turned their clients into mindless vegetables.
As much as Eliza loved psychiatry, in many ways she hated other psychiatrists. Of course there had to be good ones out there, ones that actually wanted to help people find themselves rather than turning them into drooling husks, but she always seemed to be thrown into places full of doctors who were more interested in money and fame rather than knowledge. They studied to renew their licenses, did their paperwork in a rush and left their office staff to clean up the mistakes, rushed many clients out of their care to take in new ones… Eliza may not expect everyone to share in her workaholic tendencies, but some respect for their own profession was in order. So what if a patient of hers turned into a killer at the end of her career? He did it by himself. No suggestions from her, no outside influences, no brainwashing drugs. It was his choice, and he was proud of what he did, even going so far as to credit her for finding his true calling.
What's not to be proud of?
She could only imagine what happened to him afterwards, and in a way she pitied him. Because they blamed Eliza for him falling off the deep end, she could probably guess the route they'd take: a counsellor digging into his past to pick it apart and tell him why what he did was wrong, more time in prison surrounded by abusers with his hands tied, and maybe even a miraculous reformation that causes the psychiatric community to pat itself on the back and bask in the limelight for fixing a man that one of their own corrupted.
Yes, she really did hate other psychiatrists and their moral high ground bullshit. In the end, they didn't care how it happened, so long as the client was reintegrated into society and didn't cause any more trouble. Drugs and guilt were acceptable tools to get the job done. The only thing she could hope was that the decision to choose the moral road had been his own; at least then she didn't have to think of the mental rape he might be going through at this very moment.
Well, no matter what, she got the last laugh. She's in Hell; a land full of people who probably lived their lives being reminded of everything that society deemed was wrong with them. There was an endless clientele just begging for help, and that was her job: Helping. Granted it wasn't necessarily in the way her bosses would like, but frankly if they really worried about having a morally-focused therapist, they would have just given the job to Charlie rather than having the princess run the hotel.
As Eliza switched to pondering the phenomenon that was Erpa's ego, a force powerful enough to live in denial of her tone-deaf status and continue signing up every week to sing, Alastor entered the lobby and saw her standing in front of the sign-up sheet, thinking quietly. As per usual, he announced himself with a staticky crackle, and watched as she tensed but otherwise didn't turn around. Sighing to himself, he walked up to the door to the stage-room, pausing next to her as he opened it. "Are you, perhaps, thinking of performing tonight?"
At first it didn't seem as though she would answer, but right when he was about to give up she said, "No. I'm just… thinking what kind of willpower it takes to get on stage every week when you know no one wants you to."
"Ah, thinking of young Erpa, then," he chuckled. "Yes, a truly impressive case of denial, that one. I'd be impressed if every performance weren't so painful. Perhaps we should invite Mimzy to perform here sometime? Far more than these pathetic sinners deserve, but it would be such a wonderful change of pace to have some real talent grace the stage. Aside from my energetic co-manager and myself, of course."
He didn't turn to face her, but from the corner of his eye he saw her own eyes darken slightly as she looked down. After a moment, she stated blankly, "It would be nice, I suppose."
When Alastor closed the door without entering, she blinked and finally looked at him. "I am aware that the staff are technically required to take part in this, but as the outside assistance, I think I will opt out for the evening-"
"You don't have to!" The words escaped her before she could stop them, and Alastor blinked down at her in surprise. Clearing her throat, she looked back at the sign-up sheet. "That's… not necessary, if you want to stay. I don't mind."
Alastor beamed down at her for a moment before turning back towards the door. "I suppose it's too much to ask for you to keep me company this evening?" When she didn't reply, he just laughed. "I figured, but far be it from me to deny being hopeful. Still, I look forward to the day we can interrupt your servant's worthless tripe once again! Until then, my dear." He dipped his head slightly before entering the room, closing the door behind him. Sitting at his usual table, he watched as she entered a couple minutes behind him, sitting a few tables away but keeping him in sight.
Eliza once again heard the sound of three, slow beeps. When she turned to stare at his table, she saw him watching for her a moment and tapping her chair before looking away once more. It was only then that it dawned on her what that sound meant. It was an invitation.
Join me, if you wish.
While not yet ready to accept, she kept it in mind. It was strange, feeling as though he was welcoming her after what happened. Still, it made her feel somewhat better, at least.
As the night progressed, she was pleasantly surprised to find that not only was Matiu actually pretty good at telling jokes, but a fight ended up breaking out in spite of it, mostly when Paressu in his high state gave him a cat-call. Not the direction she expected things to go, but it was downright hilarious all the same. Poor Charlie had such a mess to clean.
It was at that moment that she really did miss talking to Alastor. Chancing a glance at him, she saw that his eyes were glowing bright as he watched the turmoil excitedly. When Vaggie turned to him and gestured for him to become involved, he sighed and reluctantly snapped his fingers, letting a group of shadows do the work while he… pouted?
Eliza just cocked her head to the side as she analyzed him. How do you pout with a smile?!
Normally Sunday was Eliza's day to keep to herself, but this time around she decided to do something different; walk around the hotel and ask everyone about their biggest complaints regarding the hotel. Since she has officially been invited to a board meeting of sorts, it might do well to bring something to their attention that they otherwise might not know about. After all, Vaggie and Charlie don't really mesh well with the guests still, and Alastor wouldn't bother working to please everyone. Besides, it could give her an idea for a new, productive activity to encourage positive behaviors. All she had to do was pick something that could convince both the princess and Vaggie that it'd be beneficial for the guests, and somehow also convince Alastor that it was either entertaining enough to consider or financially viable; both would be best.
That could be the real challenge.
With that difficult task in mind, she grabbed a pen and clipboard and made her rounds that morning, while everyone was either still asleep or hanging out in the dining room. Matiu and Lakavi were sitting together at a table, and Eliza couldn't help but raise an eyebrow at them. They made a volatile combination, but strangely enough it seemed to be working out, at least to a degree. Something to be monitored, for sure.
"Excuse me," she greeted politely as she approached the quiet duo, who both looked at her curiously. Despite being quite used to her, it was unusual for her to approach them outside of therapy. "I'm going around on my own to see how everyone is feeling about the current state of the hotel. Tell me; are there any complaints you have?"
As she expected, jokes were made to start. Lakavi taunted her about how she needed to get laid (still miffed that the therapist wouldn't give her the time of day), and Matiu complained about how annoying Vaggie was, poking fun at her while Lakavi laughed. Eliza played the silent spectator as they attempted to dodge her questions or make her uncomfortable, but her stubborn sweetness eventually made it clear that she was going to wait until they gave her an honest response. Matiu was the first to oblige.
"The food here is shit," he told her, gesturing down to his meager plate of grits and eggs. "That cyclops chick can cook, but she don't have much ta work wit'. Girl's tryin' ta make gold outta shit."
"Yea, gotta agree with that," Lakavi concurred with a disgusted look at her own food. "Tastes like she doesn't have anything to put in 'em, ya know?"
"But what do ya expect?" Matiu continued with a sigh. "This is Hell; food don't grow well without seasons an' shit. Constant weather, unless ya gotta bad day. Acid rain, ice storms, dust storms, twisters… We can take it, but plants get fucked up."
Tapping her lip with her pen, Eliza took some notes as they spoke. So a garden was out, unfortunately. Damn, that would have been an excellent idea… unless...
"Thank you very much! You've both been very helpful." With a small bow, she turned around and left, leaving the two to just shrug and go back to eating as though she never even bothered them.
Still taking the time to talk to anyone else she found, it turned out that the general consensus was that the food was the worst part of their stay. Even Niffty had her complaints, and she was the one making the food. The only time the staff had anything decent to eat was when Alastor felt compelled to cook, often bringing in his own stock for the occasion. If he was forced to stomach the hotel's inventory, he'd probably be the biggest critic.
Eliza had raided his spare stock once or twice before their writing sessions to cook, though most of the time he was there first. Whenever he went in, a spare fridge seemed to appear out of nowhere, and it was something she missed when she would help Niffty in the kitchen on occasion. He was in the financial position to pay for premium, whereas the hotel's budget just got tighter with the addition of her pay, or it would once it got approved. But maybe… Maybe there was another way to get a garden going. It would be something the guests could do themselves; something to provide a sense of accomplishment, as well as take care of the food dilemma. They could have days where those who enjoy cooking can help in the kitchen, using ingredients they grew from their own hands. All they needed was a way to deal with the dangerous and sporadic weather, as well as the lack of seasons. A big expense in the beginning, but perhaps something that could come to pay for itself in time.
This could be brilliant, if she can just get Alastor to see that the benefits outweigh the initial cost. Hopefully the man's inner foodie would be easy to persuade.
Author's Note:
Publishing this a day early because internet may be going away for a little while after today.
Ever have stuff you want to get to in a story, but you have to trudge through all the stuff in-between, first? That's my least favorite part of writing; gotta get through all that before getting to the crazy or fun stuff: Hotel advancement, romantic progress, Eliza's dad, angels... Lots of stuff, so much to settle before I can get to them. Fair warning; some of those things are going to be fucked up all to shit. I'll have warning labels on the chapters that go down dangerous rabbit holes, K? Just know that it's coming, and it's gonna get freaky, awkward and very uncomfortable at times. Makes it all the better when problems resolve.
Also, two very young kids and pregnant, just bought a house, mother-in-law is currently in the process of moving out (hence why internet might go bye-bye for a little while), husband works six days a week. Writing happens when it happens, people. Just know that I'm still loving on this story, and it haunts my thoughts all the time. I love you all and hope you continue to enjoy what I end up writing at 5am when I can't sleep, lol! It's hard sleeping in the same room as your light-sleeper baby. That will end as soon as my mother-in-law moves out of the master bedroom... I count the seconds until that moment!
