"I don't want to be like this. Not forever." The words echoed in Verosika Mayday's head, like an annoying echo that wouldn't let her be. The pop star succubus couldn't stop thinking about the night of her Anti-Blitzo party. Those words that Blitzø had said left her completely out of place. Him? Vulnerable? She had never thought that the pathetic imp who had broken her heart could even feel something like that. It was easier to imagine Blitzø swallowing a fireball than admitting something of that magnitude.
Days, weeks, maybe months (or whatever), passed as she thought about how she was going to make that bastard pay for messing her up when she had decided to open up for the first time in centuries. She had the perfect opportunity that night: she could have destroyed him, left him crying on the ground, but… even though it pissed her off to admit it, seeing him like that reminded her of the Blitzø who used to make her laugh, the idiot she had once fallen for. She no longer knew if she wanted to see him crushed or just find out what the hell had happened to that charming idiot.
One of the companies sharing a building with I.M.P offered Verosika a minor job. It wasn't anything spectacular, the pay was lower than she deserved (didn't they know she was Verosika fucking Mayday?), but the chance to run into Blitzø again and get a word or two out of him after that night convinced her to accept.
On the other hand, Blitzø, the head of I.M.P, was sinking into his own pile of shit. Between the full moon, the fiasco of his ridiculous apology tour, and the disaster on the Antarctica mission, he was carrying more emotional weight than a moving truck. Eventually, he reached the point where he had to admit he couldn't keep fucking up his life with his constant self-destructive tendencies. He couldn't keep pushing away the few people who still mattered to him before he ended up alone. Again.
He decided to give his team a break. It's not like they could keep working, not with him having trouble opening portals to the human world with his asmodean crystal. Moxxie, as expected, questioned the decision, but Blitzø, with his charming ability to "convince" people (also known as annoying them until they give up), managed to get him and Millie to take a break. At least Loona was out today too, thanks to Tex and another one of those wild Beelzebub parties.
Blitzø, lost in his self-destructive spiral, tried to stay afloat. His business was on hold, his team out of action, and even his dear Loona had gone to a party. Loneliness hit him harder than he was willing to admit. He had woken up that day with the feeling that everything he touched was crumbling around him. He couldn't keep going like this, he knew it, but damn it, he didn't know how to stop.
His apartment was silent, and for one day he could wallow in his misery without witnesses. But the silence only gave him more space to hear the voices in his head. Seeking distraction, he began pulling out some of the things he had accumulated in his apartment: bottles of alcohol, weapons, and a bunch of old mementos from his failed relationships. He didn't even know why he kept those things. He gathered everything up and put it in a cardboard box. He headed to the office early, not so much because he wanted to start the day with energy, but because he preferred not to stain the couch he used as a bed with his tears.
When he arrived at the building's parking lot, something seemed off. It was empty. He could swear there had always been at least a couple of cars parked there at that time. He parked the I.M.P. van in its usual spot and briefly smiled at the sight of Verosika's name crossed out. It brought back memories, not just of the Spring Break disaster, but also of the times when things between them had been… well, decent. Damn it, lately those memories wouldn't leave him alone.
His thoughts were interrupted by the vibration of his phone. A message from Moxxie: "Sir, you did leave the Pride Ring, right?" Blitzø rolled his eyes and decided to ignore it. Moxxie shouldn't give a damn where he was on his fucking day off.
With a sigh, he opened the back of the van and took out a box full of random junk: weapons, cheap alcohol bottles, and everything he had found lying around his place before finally heading to his office. Blitzø had more important things to think about, like which bottle of liquor to open first to drown out the demons tormenting him (even though he was technically surrounded by demons... ironic, right?).
A few hours later, Verosika arrived at the building. Seeing the parking lot completely empty, she smiled with a bit of nostalgia. The last time she was here was during the chaos of Spring Break, where she and Blitzø had competed for a stupid parking spot. She parked her car next to the I.M.P. van, and thought that now, on better terms, Blitzø wouldn't give her a hard time about it.
She smiled when she saw Blitzø's van. It meant the idiot was already there, which reassured her a bit. She had heard rumors that his little company was on hiatus for unknown reasons, and although she hated to admit it, she was worried about him. She was pulled out of her thoughts when her phone vibrated: a message from Vortex. She barely paid attention. Something about leaving the Pride Ring and more crap; she just glanced at it before dismissing the notification and entering the building.
Although she was supposedly there to work, her team of succubi and incubi had requested the day off, and even Vortex wanted the day off. It seemed strange to her because her bodyguard never missed work. But honestly, she didn't care; she was too busy reflecting on Blitzø's words to pay attention to why her team wanted a break.
She walked into the building, when she accepted the job, she made sure to get an office right across from I.M.P.'s. That way, she could "accidentally" run into Blitzø, of course. She had been working, or at least trying to, for almost an hour when she noticed something odd: silence. There were no fights, no explosions, no shouting coming from Blitzø's office. Nothing. The silence was so damn eerie it gave her chills. That office used to be a damn chaos.
After a while, she couldn't take it anymore. She left her studio and stood in front of the I.M.P. door. Cursing herself for being so soft, she opened the door and walked in. The place was empty. She walked toward Blitzø's office, and the first thing she saw was a photo of the four I.M.P. members, but Blitzø's face was crossed out with a black marker. It wasn't just the photo; posters, circus memorabilia, anything with Blitzø's image had been vandalized, as if someone was trying to erase his existence.
Verosika knew Blitzø had problems. She had always known. But this… this was worse than she ever imagined. Suddenly, she realized that in all those anti-Blitzo parties, there was always someone missing. Someone who hated him more than anyone and had been deeply hurt by him. That person, of course, was Blitzø himself.
The revelation hit her like a train. She felt genuinely concerned for him. If no one did something, sooner or later Blitzø was going to end up completely destroying himself.
On his desk, Verosika found a box full of stuff. Her curiosity got the better of her, and even though she knew she shouldn't snoop, she approached it. What she found inside surprised her.
First, she saw a pink gun with white and black details: hearts, stars, and little symbols that made it look flashy, almost childish, but deadly. She recognized it instantly. It was the counterpart to the golden gun Blitzø always carried with him. It had been a gift from him during their relationship. Verosika remembered the day he, with a stupid and arrogant smile, handed her that luxurious box and pulled out the twin guns: a golden one for him and a metallic pink one for her. It was one of those cheesy and ridiculous moments, but at the time, it made her smile.
She kept searching through the box and found more mementos. Necklaces, bracelets, small trinkets that Blitzø had given her. What kind of idiot kept things from a broken relationship? She had returned those gifts when she broke up with him, as part of her grand act of pride, and yet there they were. Intact. Surrounded by other things she had also returned: jewelry, photos, and even some of those cheesy little trinkets she had forgotten.
She couldn't help but pick up the gun. The weight of the weapon brought back memories, not all pleasant, but powerful. Maybe Blitzø wasn't the only one clinging to the past, though she would never admit it out loud.
Suddenly, a familiar sound pulled her out of her thoughts. One of her own songs was playing in the air, coming from the meeting room. She approached cautiously and peeked inside. There was Blitzø, sitting alone with his golden gun in hand. He had placed a cardboard cutout of himself on the other side of the room and, between tears and gunshots, seemed to be trying to exorcise his inner demons, one by one.
Blitzø had his eyes closed, trying to drown out the voices in his head with the sound of the gunshots, the smell of gunpowder, and other sensations, but the pain wouldn't go away. He didn't need to open his eyes; he knew he had hit the target, firing straight at where his heart was supposed to be.
The imp was deeper in his hole than Verosika expected. Each shot echoed with more pain than anger. As she entered, she watched Blitzø fire one last time before the gun clicked, empty. The succubus, without saying a word, lifted the pink gun she had found in his office, aimed, and shot, hitting the cardboard cutout in the face. Blitzø opened his eyes, surprised, and saw her there, holding his old gift with a faint smile.
Blitzø, startled, turned towards her, his expression a mix of embarrassment and exhaustion. "Good shot," he murmured, unable to look her in the eye.
"I learned from the best," Verosika replied, letting out a slight smile before sitting down next to him. The smile quickly faded, replaced by genuine concern. "Why am I not surprised to find you here, doing this?" she asked, hating herself for caring so much about him, the idiot who once made her feel alive and then shattered her.
Blitzø shrugged, too tired to offer a sarcastic response. "It's just another day," he murmured, almost as if he didn't believe his own words.
"I'm surprised you still keep this crap." Verosika moved closer, placing the gun on the table with a dry thud.
Blitzø followed her gaze to the gun and shrugged. "I guess... I don't know. Maybe I'm a fucking nostalgic. Or maybe I'm just a dumbass who doesn't know when to let go."
"Yeah, I can believe that," Verosika murmured, though her tone lacked real malice. There was something different about this conversation. Maybe it was the raw honesty, or maybe it was the shared loneliness they both felt, but for the first time in a long time, talking to Blitzø didn't feel like an ego battle. It was weird. Uncomfortable, but not necessarily bad.
"So, the old Blitzø is running out of ideas and decides to shoot himself? I knew you were a dumbass, but this is depressing even for you."
He didn't respond immediately. Instead, he grabbed a bottle of Beelzejuice from the table and opened it with his tail, tossing another one to Verosika. "Care to join the 'I Hate Myself' club?" he asked with little enthusiasm.
She took the bottle but didn't drink. Instead, she looked at him intently. "Do you really think this shit is going to fix anything?"
Blitzø let out a hollow laugh, staring at the bottle in his hand. "Fix? No, but it makes it hurt a little less for a while, you know exactly what I'm talking about." His eyes shifted to the cardboard cutout. "What are you doing here, Verosika? I thought you'd gotten over me."
She moved her chair closer to him, her eyes locked on his. "And I did… until you came back with that crap about 'I don't want to be like this forever.' Damn you, Blitzø, you always know how to make me feel things I don't want to."
A silence fell between them. Blitzø looked down, defeated. "I… I'm sorry," he murmured. "For everything. For how I ended up messing things up between us. For being so… me."
"Yeah, Blitzø, you were a monumental idiot," she said, not softening her words. Verosika let out a sigh, trying to find a comfortable position to sit. "I'm not going to lie to you, Blitzø. What you did hurt me. It pissed me off. And I swore to myself that I'd never let you make me feel that way again. But I'm not a saint either. We both screwed up, and honestly, I don't know if that even matters anymore." She glanced at the pink gun on the table. "Besides, I also know you're not just that dumbass who ruins everything. There's something more there, something that was worth it at one point."
Blitzø glanced at her, surprised by her honesty. "Do you think there's still something left of that?"
"I don't know," Verosika replied. "But I'm not going to lie to you, Blitzø. Seeing you like this… makes me want to punch you in the face and also help you. I don't know which one will win out in the end."
He let out a small laugh, which quickly faded. "Whatever you decide to do, Verosika… thanks for not hitting me yet."
She smiled, finally taking a sip from the bottle. "Don't get too comfortable. I'm still weighing my options." Verosika said with a small smile as she looked away at the cardboard cutout and observed the bullet holes around the heart area.
"Were those bullets meant for the cutout or for yourself?" Verosika asked with a tone more serious than she intended. When Blitzø didn't answer immediately, she frowned. "Do you really want to end up like this, Blitzø? Like a fucked-up shadow of what you once were."
Blitzø remained silent for a moment, taking a swig from his bottle. "I don't know, Verosika. I just want to… stop hurting everyone, even myself. But you know how I am. I mess things up. Always."
She sighed, fiddling with the gun on the table. "You and I have always been a fucking disaster, Blitzø. But even the biggest disaster can learn to stop burning… if someone pours a little water on it."
Blitzø shot her a sideways glance, with a sad smile. "Do you think I can stop being a damn wildfire?"
"I don't know," she said, resting her head on her hand. "But we can start with a drink… and see where it goes from there."
They both drank in silence, but for the first time in a long while, the silence wasn't so painful. They both sighed before taking a long swig from their respective bottles to finish them off. Blitzø immediately grabbed a couple more bottles, knowing that this conversation wasn't going to be easy, but that, somehow, it might be exactly what they both needed.