Before we get started, know that this story started as something small just for myself where I would write for an hour and move on. Then, it turned into something else. Then something else.

Content warning for this story as it includes the following: Drug use, suicide, physical, mental, and emotional abuse, rape, sex, alcohol use, tobacco use, and physical violence.

Part 1

On shaking legs like a baby deer, Angel stepped out of the long red car that dropped him off in front of the hotel. He was sore, upset, pissed off, but he bit his tongue to keep quiet until the car drove off, and he limped his way up to the door of the hotel.

He stared down at the handle, seeming like it was further away than it was, but he closed his eyes, took a deep breath, plastered on his smile, and opened it.

A gust of wind made him flinch as he was greeted by Charlie, dashing up to him with a big smile. "Hey! Welcome back, Angel! How was work?" The spider didn't respond initially. Instead, he just walked by her, trying to ignore how his body felt like it had been thrashed around. He kept his smile on, gritting his teeth. "Fuckin' faaantastic. Did a whole series in one night. New record, baby!" He called over his shoulder as he made his way toward his room on the second floor, his heels clicking against the hardwood and carpet with every step. "I'm gonna go shower 'cause' I am covered in things you don't want to hear from people you probably know."

Opening his door, he stepped inside, his smile dropping when he closed it behind him. Angel released a shaky sigh, looking around his room before taking off his fur jacket and throwing it somewhere in the corner. He leaned back against the door and slid down it to sit on the floor. Whatever decompression was, he wasn't sure this was it, but this was as close to an exhale as possible.

He hated feeling like this. It made him feel weak and pathetic and reminded him too much of his old life. He didn't want that.

Standing up, Angel went to the bathroom and stripped himself of his clothes, taking them off piece by piece. He wanted to burn them, but some of them looked pretty. He'd keep them for now.

Turning on the shower, he put his hand under it to ensure the temperature was nice and hot, almost scalding, and stepped inside. The water ran red and brown as all the blood and makeup he wore was washed off, leaving his skin and fur clean. It would show the bruises more, but that was part of it. He always got roughed up in the studio; it was nothing new.

His hands shook a little as he grabbed his soap and began to scrub himself clean, trying to wash off everything that had happened. He wasn't going to cry. He wasn't going to freak out. He was going to finish and lay down. He could freak out and pass out when he woke up. He just wanted to breathe.

When he was done, he stepped out of the shower and wrapped a towel around himself. He needed to do something to distract himself, and he knew just the thing. It was early enough, maybe.

Angel grabbed his fluffy pink robe, walked back into his room, and flopped onto his bed. With a keen eye, he looked around, checking the shadows and closet, under his bed, and in the corners of his room in case anyone or anything was there. one never really knew. When he was sure he was alone, he reached under his pillow and pulled out his phone.

Months prior, Angel had found the phone on his pillow when he returned to his room. The small black flip phone wasn't his, but he hadn't seen anyone else carry something like this around, a relic compared to more 'modern' communication at the bottom of the world.

But now, it had become a small but powerful lifeline into which he poured most of his desperation, anxiety, concerns, and dreams.

One name was in the contacts: Alex

He took a deep breath and exhaled. This was stupid. He was stupid. But he needed someone to talk to. He needed someone to hear him without judgment.

He checked the time on the phone to make sure it wasn't too early or late. His finger hovered over the call button. No one would know. No one had to know.

Angel bit his lip and selected the name.

It rang.

Once.

Twice.

Three times.

"Hello?" A voice answered from the other side, groggy, half asleep. Angel sat up on his bed and stared at his wall. He wanted to speak, but words wouldn't come out. A small chuckle on the other end filled Angel's chest with warmth. He heard the person groan. He must have still been in bed. "I know it's you. You're the only one that calls."

Angel gulped and cleared his throat, "I-I'm sorry. Did I wake ya?" His voice was soft. The person on the other line hummed slightly in satisfaction, "Yeah, but it's you. How could I be mad?"

Angel felt his face heat up as he pulled his legs up to his chest. "I guess you can't. So...how are you?" Shuffling was on the other line as the person sat up. "I'm doing alright. I was thinking about you last night."

A gentle heart flutter in his chest warmed him as he rolled over onto his stomach. "Ya did? How come?"

"I was thinking about how you sounded. It's been a while since I last heard from you—at least a week at this point." The voice yawned. It was early.

Angel nodded, "I was...busy. Had a lot of shoots to do. They had me do a bunch of shit the last few days. I couldn't take a break."

"Angel, you know you never have to apologize to me. I understand you're busy with...all that." Angel shook his head, "I know, but...I still feel guilty." The spider rolled and grabbed his pillow, hugging it to his chest.

There was more shuffling on the other line, "Angel, listen, it's fine. I understand. I wish I knew you were OK when we don't speak." Angel chuckled, "I'm fine. Promise. Just tired. They had me work my ass off."

"Are you sore?"

Angel felt his cheeks burn as his body shivered, "A-A little. It's not that bad. I'm used to it."

"I bet it's not that bad. You're pretty strong. You're so fucking strong, Angel. That's why you're number-fucking-one. You're a goddamn beast. But how are you, really?"

Angel let out a shaky sigh and closed his eyes. "I am sore, Alex. I'm sore and I'm tired and I just...I want to scream. I want to FUCKING-" he pulled the phone away from his head and put his hand over his eyes.

"Angel?"

He returned the phone to his ear, "Yeah?" his voice was so small.

"You still there?"

"Yeah. Still here."

There was silence between them. "Let's change the subject, yea? No more work talk. I made something for you, Angel." Angel sat up. "You did?"

"Yea. Give me a second. I'll send it through."

"Send?"

Angel waited a moment, and his phone buzzed as a notification went off. It was an audio file. Eight minutes long. "I went down to the beach. I recorded some sounds for you. Birds, water, and some people are going by, shit like that. I don't know if the stories of hell are true, but I'm sure you don't have any oceans, and if you do, they are probably horrifying, so...I wanted to give you something to get lost in."

Angel stared at his phone, his mouth open as his heart squeezed in his chest. He couldn't help the tears that rolled down his face as he bit his lip and smiled, "I-I...thank you. Thank you. I-I don't know what to say. I just...thank you." If nothing else, Angel didn't have to wear a mask while on this phone. He didn't have to smile through everything or fire back at every comment. It was like a stone had been removed from his neck.

"It's nothing, Angel. It's not a big deal."

Silence carried on for a long time before Alex spoke. "I don't want to, but I need to get going, Angel. I got class. But I'll be available in," pause, "five hours. If you want to call again, that is."

Angel nodded, a smile creeping onto his lips. "I'd like that."

"I'd like that too," the voice was gentle. Angel kinda liked gentle.

There was silence, and Alex didn't hang up. Angel knew he would say something to break the moment before he left. He always did. "I want to put my tongue in your belly button."

Angel snorted and burst into laughter, "Fuck off!" Alex chuckled on the other line, "There's that pretty laugh. I'll talk to you later, Angel." The line went dead as he hung up the line.

Angel stared at his phone, his body warm and fuzzy. He was smiling now.

Alex...Fucking sweetheart, "bastard."

He pressed play on the audio file and braced.

His heart fluttered as the sounds filled his room.

Waves crashing, birds singing, people chatting in the distance. He closed his eyes and pictured himself there. He pictured himself at the beach, or at least what he remembered the coast to look like, walking along the sand, the wind in his hair, the sun on his- "Hey, Angel." Angel looked at his phone as Alex's voice came through the speaker. "You having a good time? It's a beautiful day out today. I'm glad you came out with me. Do you have any idea how much I love you?

Angel's leaned up, his heart thudding in his chest. "W-What?"

He could hear Alex walking along the beach in the recording. "Would you like to get some ice cream? I'll buy."

Angel sat there in shock. That son of a bitch. This was a date!

He heard a bell go off as Alex walked into a store. "Let's play it safe, yeah? Two chocolate cones, please." Angel closed his eyes and smiled as he heard the ice cream man make the cones. "That's...perfect. Thank you. Keep the change." The spider relaxed and leaned back down in his bed.

Angel heard Alex sit down in the sand. "I won't talk alot in this because I want you to enjoy the ambiance."

Splaying out in bed, his body growing heavier and sinking into the mattress, Angel held his phone close to his ear and closed his eyes. He took a deep breath and exhaled. He imagined Alex sitting beside him, their hands interlocked, enjoying their ice cream, watching the ocean. That son of a bitch.

Pulling his blanket up to his neck, Angel relaxed his arms around his head. He felt...sleepy. He needed this. He needed to get away from everything. He wanted just to lay there and enjoy this moment.

He didn't want to move.

He didn't want to go back to work.

Eventually, Alex spoke again on the recording, "Listen to this any time you want to have ice cream on the beach with me, Angel, and know I'm right here."

Angel smiled softly and pressed play on the recording again as he snuggled into bed, the little hooves of Fat Nugget clipping on the ground as the fat little pig leaped up, pathetically, onto the bed and curled into Angel's side. Wave crash. Sound of a Bell. A seagull. He draped his arm over the pig, scratching its head and back with just his fingertips until his hand got too heavy.

It didn't matter.

None of that mattered.

Not for now. Not here, not for the next eight minutes.

He was lost in the sounds of the waves, sleeping more peacefully than on any drug or drink he had consumed in the last...long time.

For the next eight minutes, his mind was far, far away.

Far away from his problems.

Far away from Hell.

And right next to him sat Alex.

For eight precious minutes, he wasn't alone.

He was snoring.