After Angel's return to the cabin, a sense of tranquility settled in. The trio of girls diligently adhered to Angel's injection schedule, with Cherri taking the lead for most of it. With Charlie and Vaggie set to depart for the hotel soon, Cherri planned to stay with Angel at the mountain compound. Their two-week excursion was nearing its end, and though Charlie wished she could extend it to a third week at her family's mountain estate, pressing responsibilities in Pentagram City beckoned.
Reports from Husk painted a grim picture - each passing day seemed to usher in more unsavory developments. Adding to the concerns, Alastor took to his radio tower to debunk the rumors surrounding Angel. Any notion of his retirement or a forced redemption held no water, according to Alastor's report.
Charlie had taken proactive steps to address the growing rumors. She engaged with both the News Station and the Pentagram Post to issue clarifications. Her statements emphasized that Angel was not being held against his will or facing any untoward treatment at her family's estate. Rather, his departure from the city stemmed from a series of concerning incidents at the porn studio that had raised alarm.
In her capacity as the overseer of the hotel, Charlie asserted her responsibility for Angel's well-being and safety. Given the lack of reassuring explanations from the studio, she took the decisive action of suspending Angel's employment at Porn Studios until further notice. This choice, although undoubtedly contentious, had been discussed and agreed upon between Charlie and Angel Dust himself. Both parties recognized the necessity for Angel to take a temporary hiatus, considering the circumstances. She took care not to disclose that she had actually declared to Valentino that Angel's employment at the studio was to be terminated, not wanting the give the wrong impression to the people who believed Valentino's propaganda.
This announcement aimed to counter misinformation and provide a clear understanding of the situation from Charlie's perspective. It also demonstrated her commitment to her role as a guardian and protector of those within her care.
The Hellborn princess harbored doubts about the effectiveness of her statements, recognizing the complexity of the situation. Her defense of Angel's situation while he was undergoing treatment at the clinic might not have a lasting impact, especially given the potential for media manipulation. Killjoy and others in the media sphere had a knack for distorting facts to cater to ratings, and Charlie anticipated that they might exploit the infamous incident from their prior interview. This involved Charlie's assertion that Angel had been on a positive trajectory, staying clean, well-behaved, and out of trouble for a significant duration after moving into the Hotel. Unfortunately, this narrative was shattered when breaking news emerged of Angel's involvement in Cherri's turf war, undermining everything Charlie had previously affirmed about his progress.
Adding to the challenge, Velvette's actions were compounding the issue. She was disseminating false information across her social media platforms, drawing upon rumors from Angel's coworkers and speculating that Angel might have deceived Charlie about the studio's toxicity. She even went so far as to provide testimony about her amicable associations with Valentino, depicting him as a benevolent friend and business partner who treated top performers exceptionally well. Velvette also recounted instances where she had witnessed Angel display ingratitude for all that Valentino has given him.
In light of this mounting disinformation, Charlie recognized the necessity of Angel giving a personal statement. This would provide him with a platform to express his perspective, allowing people to hear his side of the story directly. Such a move could potentially counteract the negative narratives and rumors that were rapidly gaining traction. It was a strategy to bring transparency to the situation and offer Angel an opportunity to address the misconceptions head-on.
Since their return, Charlie and Vaggie were taking a sensitive approach to Angel's presence. They aimed to make him feel welcomed and included while also recognizing the need to give him space. They understood that, in the absence of drugs as an escape, Angel was grappling with a multitude of thoughts and emotions. The weight of years of enduring physical, emotional, verbal, and covert abuse during his time in Hell, alongside the additional years of his previous life, was a heavy burden to bear.
Acknowledging the significance of Angel's journey, they afforded him the freedom to process at his own pace. Unlike his time at the clinic, Angel now had the liberty to enjoy the cabin and the surrounding compound like any other guest. He was unrestrained and able to explore the environment as he pleased, although he often chose to stay close to the cabin and its immediate surroundings. Cherri took it upon herself to gently encourage him to venture out and explore the area together, but Angel also had the option to stay behind when he felt the need to.
This approach demonstrated Charlie and Vaggie's respect for Angel's autonomy and the complexity of his experiences. By providing him with both the freedom to explore and the space to reflect, they were giving him the opportunity to gradually acclimate to his new environment and work through the emotions he was grappling with.
During the moments when Angel found rest or wandered the grounds with Cherri, Charlie would often take the opportunity to watch his music videos. She held no concerns about him being bothered by her viewing them, as he hadn't expressed any objections or restrictions. Though he had acknowledged that the videos didn't align perfectly with the Hotel's message, he hadn't explicitly discouraged her from watching them.
Watching these videos provided Charlie with a deeper insight into the person Angel had been before his current journey. She recognized that the videos depicted a lost and lonely soul, trapped in a life from which he couldn't break free. Despite his apparent contentment with the spotlight, a somber truth lay beneath the surface – Angel remained shackled to Valentino as a figurative prisoner. The drugs acted as his sole refuge, the sexual endeavors as a means of survival, and the songs as unheard pleas for help.
These videos gave Charlie a poignant glimpse into the complexity of Angel's past, highlighting the struggles and desperation he had faced. It was a way for her to connect with the person he had been before arriving at the Hotel, understanding the depths of his pain and the mechanisms he had used to cope.
"You're still engrossed in those?" Vaggie inquired as she entered the room, a hint of curiosity in her voice. She carried a catch of fish she had managed to secure for the evening's dinner. Charlie, who had been watching one of the videos, switched her attention and navigated to a collection of Angel Dust performances on Voxtube.
"I just thought..." Charlie began to explain, her voice carrying a hint of introspection. "I just thought they would give me more of a visual idea of what was going on." She sighed softly, her eyes reflecting a mix of curiosity and concern for Angel's past experiences.
"You know what was going on," Vaggie responded with a knowing tone. "You don't need to see his music videos to understand that." Her words conveyed an understanding that went beyond the visuals, acknowledging that Charlie was already well aware of the challenges Angel had faced.
"Maybe," Charlie responded thoughtfully. "But Angel hasn't really talked about it. He did give us an overview of what was happening, but it felt like he was pushed into sharing that information. He wanted us to hear it from him rather than getting Val's version first. Then there's the situation with Angel not returning to the Hotel and our journey here. When I spoke to Valentino, he did mention that Angel can be theatrical and manipulative himself, and there might be some truth to what he said. I mean, if I were in someone else's shoes, I might have found it easier to believe Val over Angel, even if it was just because Valentino holds the title of an Overlord." Charlie's words carried a sense of understanding about the complexities and challenges in deciphering the truth, even in the face of conflicting accounts.
"Angel said it himself," Vaggie stated firmly. "He's been associated with criminal activities. We're all aware of the kind of danger the Vee's represent, but we can't ignore the potential threat posed by Angel's own family members... his father and brother could present a different type of danger. They might not be after Angel for monetary gain, but the fact that he's now associated with you and the hotel is bound to catch their attention. Valentino and the Vee's represent one form of organized crime, and Angel's family might represent another. It's possible that they're not taking action yet because they're assessing how much of a threat our hotel poses to their own operations." Vaggie's words conveyed a sober recognition of the multifaceted dangers that Angel's connections could bring, including the potential risks from his family's involvement in criminal activities.
"The hotel isn't a threat to them," Charlie defended, her tone resolute. "I'm not taking any actions to impede their business operations or whatever it is they're involved in. Angel doesn't talk about them because it would mean breaking a code of silence. And, Vaggie, remember that he's no longer with them." Charlie's response held a clear determination to address Vaggie's concerns and clarify the stance of the hotel and Angel's current situation regarding his family's ties.
"We don't know that," Vaggie pointed out, emphasizing the uncertainty. "Angel avoids his family and isn't working for them, based on what Cherri knows. But remember, the Mafia thrives on secrecy. If he were working for them, Cherri might not have been informed because Angel wouldn't disclose that. He does maintain some level of contact with his older brother, though. Regardless of their relationship is amicable or turbulent, it's still an association." Vaggie's observations underscored the complexity of Angel's connections and the potential hidden ties that might exist beyond what was openly known.
"Perhaps," Charlie agreed thoughtfully. "But when we learned about his father and brother, it did seem like there was a reaction from Angel. It could have been influenced by the drug withdrawal and the stress of the storm, but it left me with the impression that Henroin was a source of trauma for him." As she continued to scroll through various videos of Angel Dust's singing performances, she stumbled upon one titled 'Unusual Song by Angel Dust.' The description caught her attention, indicating that it was a performance from Angel Dust's pre-Porn Studios era, showcasing a side of him that wasn't commonly seen.
"Another one," Vaggie sighed, her tone tinged with concern. "I really don't think watching these is a good idea, hun." Vaggie's words reflected her unease about delving further into Angel's past through the videos.
"This one is different," Charlie responded, her voice holding a note of intrigue. Her words hinted at the uniqueness of the particular video she had come across.
"Charlie," Vaggie heaved an exasperated sigh, her frustration evident. "You do understand the concept of clickbaiting, right?" Vaggie's remark conveyed her concern that the video's title and description might have been intentionally designed to lure viewers in, potentially with misleading or sensational content.
"This isn't one that people usually hear, so maybe there is something different," Charlie explained, her curiosity piqued. As she selected the video, a synthesized tone played, imbuing it with a clockwork-like quality, before a haunting bluesy melody began. The video showcased Angel on stage, a departure from his usual Porn Studio attire – he was dressed in black leggings and a soft lavender top with a napkin hem. His wild mop of fur that usually constituted his hair was carefully pinned back into a delicate bun. The song started, and Angel's words resonated with somber passion. The performance seemed to hold an unusual depth compared to his more flamboyant and provocative image.
Wish I could believe that you care for me that way
Mirror mirror speak to me In the night...
Don't you think I know this grief can't be cried away
In the tears I cry, I see you Rainy day...
Why can't I love you so? Sleep won't come to me...
With the eyes closed the mind has a perfect view...
It's... just... we two are
Lost in your arms I float away Don't you know?
Once daylight comes, I'm searching for you
The song spoke of a yearning for a love that turned out to be merely a dream, and yet there lingered a glimmer of hope that the initial attraction had held some truth. The performance stood in stark contrast to the more flamboyant and escapist songs that Angel typically sang. This rendition felt genuine, revealing a deeper layer of Angel's true self. It was a poignant reminder of the person he had been before the toxic situation and the persona he had created to escape it.
As the song concluded, Charlie was lost in thought, her mind grappling with the weight of what she had just witnessed. This rare glimpse into the real Angel, the person behind the mask, laid bare the extent to which Valentino's influence had broken him mentally and emotionally. Given the insights she had gained, it was astonishing that Angel had managed to retain any semblance of sanity at all. Charlie remained silent, her mind working to process the information and consider how it could be leveraged to assist Angel in his current journey of healing.
Vaggie settled herself at the table, relieved that for once she wasn't tasked with preparing the evening meal since their arrival at the Morningstar's mountain compound. Cooking wasn't an issue for her, but she had felt a sense of responsibility for it over the past week. She appreciated the break from that routine. Despite this, she couldn't help feeling a bit apprehensive about Angel's willingness to cook that night. This was a rarity; he hadn't shown interest in cooking or volunteering for meal-related tasks during their time at the hotel. It also dawned on her that he hadn't often been present for meals at the hotel in the first place.
"So, I guess we're having spaghetti for dinner?" Vaggie asked Charlie with a hint of confusion. Her surprise deepened as a plate was set before both her and Charlie. On the plate rested a couple of pieces of briny lemon-scented chicken breast, accompanied by a side of delicately smashed potatoes. The unexpected meal left Vaggie momentarily taken aback.
"Cut me a break, Vag's, will ya?" Angel interjected, a hint of amusement in his voice as he placed matching plates at Cherri's and his designated spots. His words carried a playful tone, suggesting that he was well aware of the surprise his cooking might have caused.
"Mmm," Cherri commented approvingly as she made her way up from downstairs. "I had a feeling you'd whip up something delicious." Clad in red flannel pajama pants and a black spaghetti-strap tank top, her pinkish-blond hair cascading freely, Cherri exuded a more relaxed aura. She settled into a seat at the table with an ease that spoke of familiarity. Angel claimed his place across from Charlie, creating a casual yet unexpected tableau.
"Wow," Charlie exclaimed, clearly impressed. "Angel, this looks absolutely wonderful." Her genuine admiration for Angel's culinary effort shone through. However, Vaggie seemed to approach the dish with a hint of skepticism, using her fork to poke at one of the capers that dotted the lemon sauce, her expression indicating mild distaste.
"It's just a simple chicken piccata," Angel shrugged modestly, downplaying his culinary feat. Cherri was already digging into her plate with enthusiasm, and Charlie followed suit.
However, Angel's behavior caught Charlie's attention. After a moment of quiet contemplation with his eyes closed, he touched his forehead, then his stomach, and finally his shoulders. Charlie was about to inquire if he was feeling alright when he opened his eyes and noticed her watching.
"It's an... old habit," Angel explained, his words hinting at something more than just a peculiar routine.
"Your..." Vaggie began, her voice carrying a touch of curiosity. She recognized the gesture Angel had just performed as something her own family used to do when they sat down for a meal. However, she didn't want to jump to conclusions and make any assumptions.
"Roman collar," Angel replied, offering an explanation. "I wouldn't exactly call myself a devout Roman Catholic, you know. In my family, most folks only made it to mass on big religious occasions like holidays or special ceremonies like baptisms, first communions, and weddings. To be honest, I'm not too surprised that quite a few of them might have ended up in a bit of hot water with the old man upstairs. Living that kind of life, family always came first, even before God."His response provided insight into his background and upbringing, shedding light on how his family's values had influenced his perspective and actions.
"When you say family," Vaggie inquired, seeking clarification. "Are you referring to your blood relatives, or is there something else you mean?" Angel paused, a piece of chicken poised before his mouth, lost in thought. After a brief moment, he took a bite and chewed contemplatively. Setting his fork down, he delicately dabbed his mouth with a cloth napkin before he began to speak.
"Guess it's a bit of a mix, you know?"Angel responded after a moment of consideration. His words carried a sense of complexity and nuance. "The workings of the mob are pretty intricate, and it can change depending on which crew you're rollin' with." Cherri observed him closely, her expression a blend of concern and curiosity. Part of her seemed eager to hear his response to Vaggie's question, yet another part wrestled with the notion of whether this was something Angel should be discussing. Charlie, too, appeared to share similar concerns.
"So, you have your dad and your brother here in Hell," Cherri remarked, her voice carrying a mix of realization and empathy. Her words acknowledged the presence of Angel's family members within the confines of Hell.
"Pops, Fratello," Angel began, listing off people. "Fratello's missus, a bunch of uncles and aunts from both Pops and Mamma's clans, a whole battalion of cousins, and a mix of other kinfolk. And then you've got the fellas who may not have shared our blood but were deep in the family's line of work." Angel's enumeration revealed the extensive network of family members, both by blood and by affiliation, that existed within Hell.
Vaggie was taken aback by the confession. "You mean to tell me that you have a whole extensive family here... in Hell?"
"Sure thing," Angel remarked, his shoulders lifting in a nonchalant gesture. "Listen, ya don't stroll into the mafia thinkin' you'll end up wearin' halos and singin' with the saints. Nah, it ain't like that. Sure, there were some fellas in the life who had a certain decency 'bout 'em, maybe even found redemption in the midst of the darkness. But don't kid yourself, they had their hands dipped in some murky waters, and more often than not, they'd admit they ain't exactly proud of the things they did. See, what ya might call crimes, they saw as nothin' more than the dirty side of business. Yeah, it's twisted, but that's how they justified it to themselves. My own blood, well, let's say they had their own set of morals, and it sure as hell didn't match up with society's standards. Some of 'em were pure rotten to the core, no denyin' that. But back then, survival meant makin' choices that ain't exactly wrapped in virtue. New York in them days? It ain't no rose garden, especially if you're an outsider. If you ain't speakin' the right tongue or wearin' the right face, you're gonna find yourself on the outskirts. So, yeah, my folks and others did what they had to do, even if it meant wading through muck and mire. It ain't pretty, but it's the story of a time when folks were just tryin' to carve out a place, any way they knew how."
"The three of us understand that there are certain things you can't discuss openly," Charlie added. "Because they involve breaking an oath of silence. I don't want you to feel like you'll be in trouble for sharing something you weren't supposed to. However, if there's anything you can explain..."
"Guess there ain't too much reason to keep it all hush-hush anymore." Angel admitted. "Ain't no use pretendin' otherwise. I already shattered that loyalty to the fam when I sliced those ties after landin' myself down here in Hell. But truth is, them connections to the underworld, they stretch far wider than just my folks. It's like roots runnin' deep, back to the days when they was livin' on Italian soil." He paused as he felt Charlie's hand gently resting on his across the table.
"Why don't you explain after we finish our meal," Charlie suggested. "The four of us are gathered here as a family for the first time since we arrived. Isn't that important too?" Angel glanced at the three girls around him. Indeed, this was the first instance where the four of them were truly enjoying each other's company around the dining room table since they had first arrived at the cabin.
During their time at the hotel, Angel hadn't been present for many shared meals with Charlie and Vaggie. He often left for the studio by the time the girls were coming downstairs, and his return would be after they were already asleep. The last time they all sat down together for a meal was when Alastor had made Jambalaya. Yet, at that point, Angel hadn't really thought of any of them in terms of family. Even now, it was difficult for him to fully embrace Charlie and Vaggie as family, even though he regarded Cherri as an adopted sister. Charlie and Vaggie had become more of a family to him than most of his blood relatives ever were.
Still, he hesitated at the prospect of viewing them solely through familial terms, especially considering their potential reactions to what he was about to reveal. He gave a nod to indicate his understanding of Charlie's suggestion. Notably, Charlie didn't retract her hand from Angel's even after he complied with her request. Only when he returned to his meal did she gently withdraw her hand.
Charlie observed Angel as he stood on the deck, gazing out at the horizon. He had stepped outside for a smoke not long after dinner, thankfully not one of those foul and repulsive cigarettes. These were a pack that Dr. Abaddon had given him after Angel had finally been permitted to leave the clinic. Cherri had joined him briefly for a conversation before returning indoors to assist with cleaning up.
"I had no idea entire families could end up in Hell," Cherri remarked.
"It's not a common occurrence," Vaggie explained. "However, based on the kind of individuals that make up a family, entire bloodlines can find themselves in Hell. I don't possess much knowledge about the era he hails from or the experiences he's had, but one thing I am aware of regarding Italian culture is their strong emphasis on family as a tight-knit community."
"I'm not sure if he's ever truly experienced what could be called a community here in Hell," Cherri confessed. "You girls have probably noticed he's pretty guarded, finding it difficult to trust others, especially those he's not very familiar with. Given the nature of Hell, it's not unexpected, considering that people can switch from being your friends one moment to betraying you to save themselves the next. A significant portion of his afterlife was spent on the streets of Pentagram. He got involved in the sex trade early on, finding refuge in brothels when he could. Occasionally, he'd find temporary shelter with clients or acquaintances when he was between places, and he'd rely on partners who acted as managers for support."
"He didn't have a stable place to live?" Charlie inquired, her curiosity piqued. This was new information for her, likely something her father had kept hidden from her as she was growing up.
"No one really has a stable place to live when they first arrive in Hell," Cherri explained. "It's not like there's a welcoming committee saying, 'Hey, welcome to Hell! Here are the keys to your charming little apartment on the sketchy side of town. Don't mind the rats, cockroaches, and the aroma of piss—it's all part of the experience.' Maybe they do that in Heaven, but down here, survival is a constant struggle. If you want something, you fight for it. You take what you can get, especially with the overcrowding. Occasionally, you get lucky—someone who had a decent place might disappear, leaving their spot and belongings up for grabs. Take my old apartment on the west side, for example. The lease was open, so I inquired about it. The landlord told me the demon who lived there had been missing for a while. If I wanted it, he said it was mine, along with everything inside. I went through everything, kept the furniture, ditched the clothes (not really my style), and suddenly I had a pre-furnished home for a while. When I moved out to live with Angie at the hotel, I took only the clothes and items I cared about. Whoever wanted that place could have it."
"What about where Angel was staying?" Vaggie inquired. "He mentioned he was three months behind on his rent."
"Yeah," Cherri confirmed. "His landlord was jacking up the rent for that tiny single-room occupancy apartment. It was basically a shoebox with a small room for a toilet and shower. Not exactly the kind of place he'd host clients, but Valentino would drop by occasionally... that's how I found out about what was going on."
*Flashback*
"Hey, 'Grumble Dust!'" Cherri exclaimed loudly into the phone. "Do you know how to interact with people or do actually prefer solitude over socializing?" She acknowledged the sensitive nature of Angel's past, including his time in Hell and his previous life. She understood the time constraints posed by his job at the porn studio. What truly bothered her, though, was his tendency to view her as a friend only when it suited him. It was high time for a serious conversation between them – the kind he referred to as a 'sit down' – to unearth some honest answers.
Cherri had no intention of allowing herself to be exploited for Angel's convenience. She had been down that road with Issac before, and she had no intention of tolerating similar treatment from someone else. Angel's response was silence; he chose not to reply and instead abruptly hung up the phone, demonstrating a complete disregard for her feelings.
"GFY," Cherri snorted in disgust, using the abbreviated version of 'Go Fuck Yourself.' She turned to walk away, fully prepared to leave Angel behind as a fitting response to his indifference. However, a surprising sound stopped her in her tracks: the door buzzer granting her access to the building.
She hesitated for a moment, torn between leaving and the possibility that Angel might be willing to resolve their issues. Curiosity got the better of her, and she pushed open the building's door, making her way to the elevator. As she traveled to Angel's floor, her thoughts were a mix of anger and uncertainty.
Upon arriving at Angel's door, Cherri noticed that it was slightly ajar, a far cry from the usual state of things. Normally, Angel would come down to greet her. This unusual setup gave her pause, prompting her to wonder what might be going on behind that door.
"Angie..." Cherri spoke cautiously as she pushed the door open. Inside, Angel sat on the mattress, lost in his thoughts, his legs pulled up to his chest. Cradled in his arms was Fat Nuggets, the runty pig, nestled contentedly while the Spider stroked his back. Angel's gaze was distant, as if he were staring into a void. He didn't acknowledge Cherri's presence or her entrance. This subdued version of him was a stark contrast to the usual confident and unapologetic Angel Dust she knew.
Her concern deepened at seeing him in this state. Angel was known for his strength and fearless attitude; seeing him like this felt like something significant had shaken him to the core. It was as if he was broken or grappling with an experience he didn't quite know how to process.
"Angie?" Cherri's voice was soft and tentative as she took a seat beside her friend. Still, Angel offered no indication that he was aware of her presence or her attempts to engage him. The air was heavy with unspoken emotions, leaving Cherri uncertain of how to break through the walls he seemed to have erected around himself.
Taking in her surroundings, Cherri's eyes swept over the disarray that had consumed the room. While Angel was never the neatest person, this level of chaos was far from his norm. His bedding was unmade as usual, but the disorder went beyond that. The room looked as if a bomb had gone off, leaving a trail of destruction in its wake.
Her gaze settled on the small vanity in one corner, where Angel's makeup was usually neatly organized. Now, it was a scene of broken palettes and scattered cosmetics, as if they had been violently swept off the table. Among the debris, there were a few items that seemed salvageable, but the majority was irreparably damaged.
The old dress rack that usually held Angel's colorful outfits was overturned, and the garments were strewn about the room. Some lay amidst spilled perfumed lotions, adding to the mess. The worst part was the dark stain of oil that was soaking into the floor, rendering several outfits unwearable no matter how much cleaning was attempted.
Cherri's brows furrowed in realization. Angel might have his temperamental moments, but she knew him well enough to understand that he would never deliberately cause this level of destruction to his own space. Something had happened here, something beyond the ordinary frustrations he might occasionally experience.
"Angie, what happened here?" Cherri's voice held a mixture of concern and curiosity as she gently placed her hand on his arm, attempting to get through to him even as he remained unresponsive.
"My boss..." Angel's voice sounded distant and hollow, causing Cherri to wonder if she had heard him correctly. His words hung in the air, heavy with a sense of detachment that made it difficult to gauge his emotions. "...he stopped by."
"Stopped by for what..." Cherri's question hung in the air, the concern in her voice evident as she sought to understand the nature of the visit that had clearly left Angel so distressed.
"Remember that storm the other day?"Angel sighed, his voice carrying a hint of resignation. While he wasn't as distant as before, there was a rehearsed quality to his words, as if he was trying to find the right way to share his story. "They had to give me the ol' heave-ho early 'cause I was a real mess, I tell ya. I couldn't stand on my own two feet without feelin' like I was gonna blow chunks or keel over right there on the set."
Cherri nodded, understanding the pressure that must come with maintaining a certain image in his line of work.
"I can't understand why he felt the need to go this far," Cherri remarked while she straightened the dress rack. Selecting one of Angel's more presentable tops, she examined it closely to assess its condition before casually discarding it. Unfortunately, the piece was nothing more than a stained and tattered cloth, a result of the harm it had sustained. Among the relatively recoverable shirts, there were reddish stains and tears, although they seemed reparable with a proper trip to the laundry."
"You don't understand, Val," Angel explained. "Whenever things don't go his way, he looks for someone to blame and punish. Even on a good day, he manages to find something to vent his frustrations on. If a shoot requires more than one take, someone has to bear the brunt of his anger. If I take initiative without his knowledge, he unleashes his wrath on me for going behind his back. It doesn't matter if my actions benefit him, the studio, or anyone else; all that matters to him is that I didn't keep him in the loop. Even problems in his relationship with Vox can trigger his outbursts, and it's anyone in the studio who pays the price. It all depends on his mood."
"And you never shared this with me," Cherri responded. "Angie... this is... I can't stand any of that. Why do you even continue working for someone who treats you like this?"
"It ain't as easy as just hittin' the bricks and scrammin'," Angel responded. Nugg's let out a small squeal of protest as Angel held onto him more tightly than he preferred.I ain't your run-of-the-mill worker. I'm in chains to this guy. He's got a piece of me, owns me down to my last breath, squeezin' every drop of sweat for his own gain. I've taken a shot at breakin' free, believe me, but that snake Vox, he's the hound on my tail, sniffin' me out every time I try to slip away. Them connections they got, they're like roots in this concrete jungle, reachin' into every corner. Ain't no hole deep enough, no shadow dark enough to hide me from their grasp. So don't go thinkin' I can just hop a train and vanish. This here's a game where the cards are stacked against me, and I'm playin' with a losing hand."
"That's absolutely twisted," Cherri seethed. "Seems like I need to pay that jerk a little visit."
"Hold on, Cher," Angel cautioned. "You ain't graspin' the whole picture here."
"I don't care," Cherri snapped back. "My turf and my friends are inseparable. Anyone messing with my friends is like an unwelcome intruder, and I won't stand for it... as long as I'm around."
"Yeah, I get it, I do. Val ain't just another face in the crowd," Angel said. "We're talkin' about Overlords here. Them folks are a whole different breed. Sure, there might be a way to deal with 'em if you got yourself one of them fancy Angelic weapons, but even then, it's like tryin' to put out a fire with a teaspoon. Direct confrontation? You're askin' to be erased. As for Val and Vox, yeah, I get it, it's all 'just business' in their world. Loyalty? Well, that's a rare gem in the streets. When the heat's on and the walls are closin' in, they'd sell each other out faster than you can say 'purge.'"
"I don't give a damn who he is," Cherri seethed, her body starting to expand as her full demon form began to emerge. "That jerk is hurting someone I care about. Someone has to take action."
"Believe me, sistah,"Angel said, gripping Cherri's hand and redirecting her attention to him. Her emotions began to settle, causing her form to return to its normal shape. "This guy ain't the sort we take lightly. I've held my own in these streets by avoidin' senseless brawls, pickin' my battles with a keen eye. Yeah, I've handed out my share of knuckle sandwiches to those who thought they could mess with me, and thinkin' it was cute to call me a fag and shit like that. But I ain't walkin' into shit like dis blind. I've learned, the hard way, that a fight ain't worth it unless you're ready to take the blows that come with it. Every time I've let my thoughts wander toward takin' on Val, I've seen a dark road ahead, one I don't make it back from. So, trust me, this ain't a war I can come out on top of."
No words were spoken as Cherri concluded her story. Both Charlie and Vaggie exchanged worried glances, emphasizing that Valentino must not be allowed to regain control over Angel.
"You mentioned that Angel could prevent you from fully transforming into your demon form," Charlie pointed out.
"Well, obviously," Cherri replied. "You saw him do that the other day when I was about to lose control. When I get too worked up... you could say I go into She-Hulk mode. The upside of that form is I become incredibly strong and powerful. I can't speak for other demons and their full forms, but for me... I turn wild and start attacking anyone nearby. One of the benefits of my arrangement with Angel is that he can help bring me back to normal. And even though I've only witnessed him in street fights and brawls at dive bars, I chose him as my partner because I've seen him handle situations on his own. Those instances were enough to make me realize I wouldn't want to face him in a fight myself."
"Have you ever witnessed him using his full demon form?" Vaggie inquired.
"No," Cherri said. "I've never seen him feel the need to unleash his full form. I've asked him about it before, and he simply said he doesn't find it necessary to reveal the monster he can become. However, there have been moments when I've noticed his shadow behaving oddly. He doesn't seem to notice it, but there are times when it extends outward unexpectedly. Then, it seems to manifest three pairs of arms, similar to when he reveals his hidden set of arms. And in the shadow, these glowing red eyes appear." Charlie and Vaggie exchanged worried glances upon hearing this information.
"That sounds like..." Charlie began to say.
"Cherri," Vaggie inquired, "when was the last time you witnessed this?"
"Um..." Cherri hesitated. "It was during that turf war against the steampunk serpent edgelord. Why do you ask?"
"Because that description sounds quite similar to Alastor's abilities," Vaggie pointed out.
"Seriously," Cherri scoffed in disbelief. "Angel isn't into voodoo or anything like that, so why would he possess anything remotely like that freaky Radio Demon."
"Meaning," Cherri asked in confusion, "that Angel is an Overlord like that radio-themed freakshow?"
"We don't know," Charlie said. "It doesn't seem like he's aware of this ability, or if he is, he hasn't made any efforts to control or use it."
"Come on," Cherri snorted. "I can't speak for Al back at the hotel, but I know Angel isn't really interested in having power or authority over others. So, why would he bother becoming an Overlord?"
"Because," Charlie said thoughtfully, "it might shed light on why Valentino is so intent on keeping Angel under his control. If Angel poses a problem for the Studio, his popularity might not be enough to protect him from being eliminated. Valentino would only have a reason to keep Angel in check if he suspected that Angel possessed something that could potentially challenge or threaten Valentino's own status."
"What about having a connection to Angel's brother or father?" Cherri pointed out. "I mean, these high-ranking crime lords are involved in various activities, including the adult entertainment industry. So, wouldn't it be advantageous for Valentino to establish a partnership with them?"
"But that would imply..." Vaggie said, her expression showing a mixture of disbelief and disgust. "That would imply that someone within Angel's family was willing to hand him over to Valentino, fully aware of the consequences. Or it suggests that someone considered Angel a threat and believed that subjecting him to an Overlord's control was the only way to neutralize him."
"That doesn't make any damn sense," Cherri protested. "Angel wants nothing to do with his family. He's made it clear that he wants them to do whatever they want as long as he's not a part of it."
"Maybe..." Vaggie concurred. "But it's one thing for Angel to say he doesn't want to be involved; it's another for the members of his mafia clan to fully accept that he has no intention of interfering with their affairs. So either they didn't get the memo... or someone wanted to make absolutely certain that he wouldn't be a problem."