Helluva Boss AU: Chapter Two – Dreams Denied

Two years had passed, two years of grueling hard work and side hustles and Verosika Mayday, once a dorky, brace-faced nobody, had transformed into a sensation in Hell's niche outsider market. At just 20 years old, she was known far and wide as the Virgin Succubus—a concept that was both wildly novel and strangely alluring. Her rise to fame was built on a foundation of defiance, self-respect, and an unwavering commitment to being true to herself. This resonated with many in Hell who had grown tired of the usual depravity and yearned for something different.

Verosika's music career flourished. Her first album, "No Means No," had gone silver, capturing the hearts of those who were charmed by her message of self-empowerment and her refusal to conform to the Lust Ring's expectations. Her second album, "Look, Don't Touch," went gold, solidifying her place as a force to be reckoned with. But it was her third album, "Circus of the Heart," that truly catapulted her into stardom, going platinum and making her a household name in Hell. Her songs were filled with heartfelt ballads, and many wondered about the identity of the "Scarlet Prince" she often sang about—a mysterious figure who, unbeknownst to the public, was none other than Blitzø.

In her performances, Verosika embraced her identity as a prudish icon, wearing clothes emblazoned with the word "NO" across her chest, crotch, and rear. She became known for her refusal to show any "naughty bits," a decision that further cemented her image as a symbol of self-respect and autonomy in a world that often demanded the opposite. Her image was so powerful that she even did a television special on VOX-H1, where she proudly was fitted with and showcased her chastity belt, adorned with the same bold "NO" and kept the key around her neck as a badge of honor. Her straight-edge lifestyle—no smoking, no drinking—only added to her appeal, making her a role model for those who felt out of place in the Lust Ring's hedonistic culture.

But as Verosika's star rose, Blitzø and Barbie found themselves struggling. The circus, once their home and sanctuary, was now a sinking ship. Their father, Buckzo, an abusive con artist with a penchant for gambling, had run into serious trouble with loan shark demons. Blitzø and Barbie, though skilled performers, couldn't save the circus from its inevitable decline. Blitzø, ever the devoted friend and brother, did his best to hide his suffering from Verosika, joining her at parties, helping her write songs, and even posing with Barbie on the cover of her third album. But the weight of his father's debts and the pressure to keep the circus afloat began to take its toll.

One evening, in the dingy backstage of the crumbling circus tent, Blitzø and Barbie found themselves cornered by their father. Buckzo, looking more desperate than ever, was pacing back and forth, his eyes wild with fear.

"Look, look, Blitz, Barb—you've gotta help me out here!" Buckzo pleaded, his voice a mix of desperation and anger. "If I don't pay them back, they're gonna fit me with cement galoshes!"

Blitzø stood there, arms crossed, his face a mask of frustration. "What about Fizz? He hit it big. Why not ask him for the money? Asking your own kids for the money isn't exactly a good look, pops," Barbie quipped, tugging at her eyelid and sticking out her tongue, her usual snark masking the worry she felt inside.

"I tried, but he says he's bailed me out enough! Ungrateful twink forgets I made him! I treated him better than my own kids!" Buckzo seethed, his rage boiling over as he recalled how Fizzarolli, now a successful entertainer, had turned him down.

Blitzø sighed, his shoulders slumping under the weight of the situation. "Look, Dad, we don't have the money, okay? We're barely scraping by as it is."

Buckzo stopped pacing, his eyes narrowing as a twisted idea formed in his mind. "Yeah, I know," he said slowly, his voice taking on a sinister edge. "But you're dating that hot pink piece of prudish ass, right? I got a buddy at a tabloid who'll pay big bucks if you get a candid shot of what she's hiding under that chastity belt of hers, especially in any compromising positions."

Blitzø's heart stopped. His father's words hit him like a ton of bricks. The very idea of betraying Verosika, the girl who had always believed in him, who had stood by him through thick and thin, was unthinkable. But as Buckzo continued, the reality of the situation became all too clear.

"If you won't do it for me, do it for your mom," Buckzo hissed, his serpent-like tongue flicking out as he handed Blitzø a camera. "They might be putting cement heels on her too if I don't pay."

Blitzø stared at the camera in his father's hand, his mind racing. The thought of his mother, who had always been a silent victim of Buckzo's schemes, suffering because of his inability to come up with the money was unbearable. But the idea of betraying Verosika, of destroying the trust they had built over the years, was equally horrifying.

Beside him, Barbie shifted uncomfortably, her usual bravado faltering as she watched her brother struggle with the impossible choice before him. She knew Blitzø better than anyone, and knew how much he cared for Verosika. But she also knew the kind of pressure their father could exert, the way he could twist the knife just enough to make you bleed.

"Blitz, we can't…" Barbie started, her voice uncharacteristically soft, but Blitzø cut her off.

"I know, Barb," he said, his voice heavy with resignation. "I know."

He took the camera from Buckzo, his hand trembling as he did so. The weight of it felt like a thousand pounds in his grip, a physical representation of the moral dilemma tearing him apart inside. Buckzo, sensing his victory, smirked and turned to leave, his confidence restored.

"Good boy, Blitz. I knew you'd come through for me," he sneered before slinking out of the tent, leaving Blitzø and Barbie alone in the dim light.

Barbie looked at her brother, her heart aching for him. "Blitz… what are we gonna do?"

Blitzø didn't answer right away. He just stood there, staring at the camera in his hand, feeling like the walls were closing in around him. He thought of Verosika, of her bright smile and the way she'd light up when she was on stage. He thought of all the times she'd confided in him, shared her dreams with him, and trusted him. And he thought of the Scarlet Prince she sang about—the persona he never truly lived up to.

Finally, he looked up at Barbie, his expression one of utter despair. "I don't know, Barb. I just… I don't know."

Barbie wrapped her arms around her brother, pulling him into a tight hug. She didn't have the answers either, but she knew one thing for sure—they had to find a way out of this without destroying the one good thing in Blitzø's life. Verosika didn't deserve to be hurt, not after everything she'd been through. And Blitzø didn't deserve to carry the guilt of betraying the only person who'd ever seen him for who he really was.

But as the reality of their situation settled in, one thing became clear—whatever they decided to do, it would change everything.

Over the next few days, Blitzø and Barbie found themselves drowning in a sea of anxiety and guilt. The camera Buckzo had given them sat on a small table in their shared trailer, a constant reminder of the impossible decision Blitzø had to make. Every time he looked at it, his stomach twisted in knots.

Verosika, blissfully unaware of the turmoil brewing behind the scenes, was happier than she had ever been. Her career was soaring, her fans adored her, and she was in love—truly, deeply in love—with Blitzø. To her, Blitzø was more than just a boyfriend; he was her muse, her Scarlet Prince, the embodiment of everything she sang about in her songs. She couldn't imagine her life without him, and she often spoke about their future together, about how they would continue to conquer Hell side by side.

Blitzø, however, was barely holding it together. Each time Verosika mentioned their future or looked at him with those adoring eyes, the guilt gnawed at him like a ravenous beast. He wanted to be the man she believed him to be, the hero in her songs, but the reality was far from that. His father's demands loomed over him like a dark cloud, and no matter how hard he tried to push it aside, the pressure was unbearable.

One evening, Verosika invited Blitzø and Barbie to her penthouse for a small, intimate celebration. She had just received news that "Circus of the Heart" had officially gone double platinum, and she wanted to share the moment with the two people who meant the most to her. She'd prepared a simple but elegant dinner, complete with her favorite non-alcoholic sparkling juice. The setting was perfect: the city lights of Hell glimmered outside the floor-to-ceiling windows, casting a warm, golden glow over everything.

"Blitzy, isn't it amazing?" Verosika beamed as she twirled around in her living room, her long, flowing dress fluttering around her. "Can you believe it? Double platinum! We did it!"

Blitzø forced a smile, trying to match her enthusiasm. "Yeah, V. It's incredible. You've worked so hard for this."

Verosika rushed over to him, wrapping her arms around his neck and planting a kiss on his cheek. "I couldn't have done it without you. You've been my rock, Blitzy. I'm so lucky to have you."

Blitzø's heart twisted painfully at her words. He held her close, burying his face in her hair, trying to hide the tears that threatened to spill over. "I'm lucky to have you too, V," he whispered, his voice thick with emotion.

Barbie, watching from the side, felt a pang of sympathy for her brother. She knew how much he was struggling, how much he wanted to protect Verosika from the darkness that was creeping into their lives. But as much as she wanted to believe that they could find a way out, she knew their options were limited. Buckzo was relentless, and the clock was ticking.

As the night wore on, Verosika finally brought out a small cake, its icing adorned with silver and gold stars—a nod to her album's theme. She lit a single candle in the center and turned to Blitzø and Barbie with a smile.

"Make a wish!" she said, her eyes sparkling with joy.

Blitzø stared at the candle, the flickering flame reflecting in his eyes. He wanted to wish for so many things—freedom from his father's control, a way to save his mother, a future with Verosika that wasn't tainted by betrayal. But all those wishes felt impossible, like reaching for stars that were just out of his grasp.

"I wish…" Blitzø began, but his voice faltered. He glanced at Barbie, who gave him a small, encouraging nod. Then he looked back at Verosika, who was watching him with so much love and trust that it nearly broke him. "I wish for this moment to last forever," he finally said, his voice barely above a whisper.

Verosika smiled, her heart swelling with affection. "Me too, Blitzy. Me too."

She blew out the candle, and for a brief moment, everything was perfect. The three of them sat together, laughing, eating cake, and reminiscing about the journey that had brought them to this point. It was a rare moment of peace, a brief respite from the storm that was brewing on the horizon.

But as the night came to an end and Blitzø and Barbie prepared to leave, the weight of reality came crashing back down on Blitzø's shoulders. Verosika kissed him goodbye, her lips lingering on his as if she could sense his inner turmoil but didn't know how to help.

"Goodnight, Blitzy," she whispered, her voice soft and filled with warmth. "I love you."

Blitzø swallowed hard, his throat tight with emotion. "I love you too, V," he replied, his voice cracking slightly. He held her gaze for a moment longer, then turned and walked away, the weight of the camera in his pocket feeling heavier than ever.

As they left Verosika's penthouse and walked through the dark streets of Hell, Blitzø felt like he was suffocating. The pressure was too much, the guilt too overwhelming. He had to do something, but every option felt like a betrayal.

"Blitz, we can't keep going like this," Barbie said quietly, breaking the silence. "We need to figure something out, and fast."

"I know, Barb. I just… I don't know what to do," Blitzø admitted, his voice raw with pain. "I can't betray V. I can't do that to her. But I can't let Mom suffer either."

Barbie sighed, her heart aching for her brother. "Maybe… maybe we can find another way to get the money. Maybe we can talk to Verosika, explain what's going on. She'd understand, right?"

Blitzø shook his head. "I can't drag her into this mess. She's worked so hard to get where she is. She doesn't deserve to be pulled down by my family's bullshit."

They walked in silence for a while, the weight of the situation pressing down on them. The streets were eerily quiet, the usual hustle and bustle of Hell muted by the late hour. Blitzø felt like he was walking through a nightmare, each step taking him closer to an inevitable disaster.

Finally, they reached their trailer, the familiar sight doing little to comfort them. Blitzø stopped at the door, his hand hovering over the handle, as if he were afraid to go inside.

"I don't know if I can do this, Barb," he said, his voice barely audible. "I don't know if I can betray her."

Barbie placed a hand on his shoulder, giving it a reassuring squeeze. "We'll figure it out, Blitz. We always do."

But as they stepped inside, the camera still sitting ominously on the table, both of them knew that this time, the stakes were higher than ever. Blitzø was caught between his love for Verosika and his loyalty to his family, and no matter what choice he made, someone would end up hurt.

As Blitzø lay in bed that night, staring up at the ceiling, he tried to think of a way out—a solution that didn't involve betraying the woman he loved or letting his family suffer. But every time he thought he'd found an answer, it slipped through his fingers like sand.

And so, as the hours ticked by and the first light of dawn began to creep into the sky, Blitzø found himself at a crossroads, unsure of which path to take, knowing that whatever he chose, nothing would ever be the same again.

Barbie's mind raced as she paced back and forth in the trailer, the dim light barely illuminating the small, cluttered space. She could feel the weight of the situation crushing her, but she wasn't about to let it break her. Blitz was her twin, her other half, and she couldn't stand to see him drowning in despair. She hated seeing the light in his eyes dim, hated the way he carried the burden of their father's cruel demands on his shoulders. Their parents, too—she couldn't bear the thought of them suffering, of their mother enduring more pain. But Verosika…Verosika was her best friend. The bubbly, passionate pop star had welcomed Barbie into her life with open arms, treating her like family, and Barbie had grown to love her like a sister. She knew that Blitz loved her deeply, even if he was too tangled up in his own fears to see it clearly.

Barbie sighed heavily, her thoughts a chaotic storm inside her head. She could see it clearly: the no-win situation that they were all trapped in. It was like a nightmare where every door led to disaster, and no matter which way they turned, someone was going to get hurt. But she couldn't just sit by and watch her brother fall apart. She couldn't just stand there while Blitz agonized over a decision that could destroy everything he cared about.

As she sat on the edge of her bed, an idea began to form in the back of her mind—an idea that was dangerous, reckless, and completely insane. It involved reaching out to some old acquaintances, demons she hadn't seen in years, members of a wild, all-girl gang known as the "Hells Harlequins." Barbie had run with them for a while, back when she was trying to find herself, trying to figure out who she was apart from her family's legacy. The Harlequins were tough, they were fierce, and they were loyal to their own. If anyone could help her get the money Blitz needed, it was them. But the thought of going back to that life, even temporarily, sent a shiver down her spine. She'd left that world behind for a reason—she wanted something better for herself, for Blitz. But what other choice did she have?

Barbie stood up, her resolve hardening as she glanced at the small, worn photograph on her bedside table—a picture of her, Blitz, and Verosika from a few months ago. They were smiling, carefree, their arms around each other. Verosika had playfully mussed Blitz's hair, and Barbie had been laughing so hard she thought she might burst. It was a perfect moment, one of the few where they'd all been truly happy. She wasn't going to let that go. Not without a fight.

She grabbed her leather jacket, the one she hadn't worn in years, and slid it on. The weight of it was familiar, comforting in a way that made her feel like she could take on the world. As she looked back at her sleeping brother, his face etched with worry even in slumber, she felt a pang of sadness. Blitz had always been the dreamer, the one who believed in love and loyalty, in happy endings, even in a place like Hell. He was the dork who would marry a silly dreamer like Verosika and think he could rule Hell's nightlife with her by his side. And maybe, just maybe, that wasn't such a crazy idea.

"Don't let this bullshit drag you down, bro," Barbie whispered softly, her voice barely audible. "Marry that silly dreamer and rule Hell's nightlife, you dork. I'll take care of the rest."

With one last look, she closed the door behind her, her mind made up. Outside, waiting in the shadows, were the Hells Harlequins, each one sporting a jester motif, their faces hidden behind colorful masks. They were wild, unpredictable, and dangerous—everything Barbie needed right now. As they handed her a mask and a hat, one of the girls revved a motorcycle, its engine roaring to life.

Barbie took the mask, sliding it on and feeling herself transform into someone else—someone stronger, someone who could do what needed to be done. As she mounted the bike, the adrenaline surged through her veins, pushing aside the fear. She glanced back at the trailer one last time before speeding off into the night, the Harlequins following close behind.

For the next few weeks, Barbie disappeared. No one saw or heard from her. The days passed in a blur of uncertainty, the clock counting down as the loan sharks continued to breathe down their necks, demanding their money. Blitz was spiraling, the pressure weighing on him like a ton of bricks. He felt like he was completely alone, abandoned by the one person he thought he could always count on—his sister. Without Barbie, the world felt colder, darker, and he didn't know how much longer he could keep it together.

Desperate, Blitz decided to seek out the only other person who might be able to help: Fizzarolli. Fizz and Blitz had been childhood friends, their bond forged in the fires of Hell's most chaotic circus. They'd been through everything together—laughs, tears, pranks, and the occasional near-death experience. Blitz knew that Fizz had become a huge star, his act with Mammon catapulting him to the top of Hell's entertainment world. But they hadn't talked much recently. Blitz was hesitant, knowing Fizz was wrapped up in his own chaotic life, but he had no other options.

Blitz found Fizz backstage after one of his performances at Ozzie's club, the neon lights casting long, eerie shadows on the walls. Fizz was sitting in front of a mirror, wiping away the remnants of his makeup, his usual over-the-top grin replaced by a more subdued expression. The energy in the room was different from their usual banter, the weight of reality pressing down on both of them.

"Blitzy, what brings you here?" Fizz asked, glancing at Blitz through the mirror's reflection. He could see the worry etched into Blitz's face, the way his shoulders slumped under the weight of whatever was plaguing him. Fizz's usual carefree attitude faltered as concern crept into his voice. "You look like you've been through the wringer."

Blitz hesitated, his hand hovering near the back of his neck as he struggled to find the words. "Fizz, I…I need your help. It's about my mom. My dad, he—he took out a loan, and now the sharks are coming for us. They want the money, or they'll…" His voice broke, the fear and desperation finally bubbling to the surface. "They'll hurt her, Fizz. They'll hurt her real bad."

Fizzarolli's expression softened, and he turned around to face Blitz, the makeup wipe crumpled in his hand. "Shit, Blitz, I… I didn't know. You should've told me sooner." He reached out, placing a comforting hand on Blitz's shoulder. "I wish I could help, but the truth is, I don't have any money to give. Everything I make, it goes straight to Mammon. That's the deal I made—fame in exchange for the cash. I don't even see a fraction of it."

Blitz's heart sank further, the last glimmer of hope flickering out. "I didn't know," he muttered, his voice hollow. "I thought maybe you could…"

Fizz shook his head, his grip on Blitz's shoulder tightening. "Look, Blitz, I might not have the money, but you're not alone in this, okay? I'm still your friend, and I'll do whatever I can to help. But maybe—just maybe—you need to talk to Verosika. Ozzie's paying her well, and if she really loves you, if she's the one, then she'll understand. You can't keep hiding this from her. You're killing yourself with all this guilt, Blitzy."

Blitz recoiled at the suggestion, shaking his head vigorously. "No, Fizz. I can't do that to her. She's got her own stuff going on. I can't drag her into this mess. She deserves better than that. She deserves better than me."

Fizzarolli sighed deeply, his eyes filled with sympathy. "Blitz, listen to me. I know you're scared. I know you think you're protecting her, but you're also shutting her out. Love isn't just about the good times, it's about the bad too. If she's as crazy about you as you are about her, she'll want to be there for you, even if it's messy. Especially if it's messy."

Blitz felt tears prickling at the corners of his eyes, his vision blurring as he tried to keep it together. "I just don't want to lose her, Fizz. I don't want to lose anyone."

Fizz pulled Blitz into a tight hug, holding him as he finally broke down, the weight of his emotions too much to bear any longer. "You're not gonna lose her, Blitzy. You've just gotta trust her. Trust yourself. You're not alone in this, okay? You've got me, you've got Barbie—even if she's MIA right now—and you've got Verosika. You're stronger than you think. We'll figure this out, together."

Blitz clung to Fizz, the tears streaming down his face as he allowed himself to feel the full weight of his fear, his guilt, his desperation. In that moment, he felt like a little kid again, lost and scared, trying to navigate a world that was too big and too cruel for someone like him. Fizz held him tighter, like he was afraid Blitz might slip away if he let go. The silence in the room was heavy, filled only with the sound of Blitz's quiet sobs and Fizz's steady breathing.

After what felt like an eternity, Blitz finally pulled back, wiping his eyes with the back of his hand. He felt raw, exposed, like every nerve in his body was on fire. But there was also a strange sense of relief, like a weight had been lifted off his chest, even if only for a moment.

"Thanks, Fizz," Blitz mumbled, his voice hoarse. "I don't know what I'd do without you."

Fizz smiled softly, a hint of the old mischief returning to his eyes. "Well, you'd probably be a lot less fun, for starters. But seriously, Blitz, you don't have to go through this alone. You've got people who care about you. Let them in, okay?"

Blitz nodded, even though he wasn't sure if he could do what Fizz was asking. It was one thing to hear the words, another thing entirely to put them into action. But Fizz was right about one thing—he couldn't keep hiding. The longer he did, the more he risked losing everything.

"I'll… I'll talk to Verosika," Blitz finally said, the words feeling heavy in his mouth. "I just need to figure out how. She deserves to know the truth, but… I don't want to drag her down with me."

Fizz nodded in understanding, his expression serious. "Just be honest with her, Blitzy. That's all you can do. She loves you, man. She's not gonna just walk away because things get tough."

Blitz wished he could believe that, but there was a small, nagging voice in the back of his mind telling him that he wasn't worth it—that he would only end up hurting her, like he hurt everyone he cared about. But he pushed that voice down, trying to focus on the advice Fizz was giving him.

"What about you, Fizz?" Blitz asked after a moment, trying to shift the focus away from his own problems. "How are you holding up? I know you said all your money's tied up with Mammon, but that can't be easy."

Fizz shrugged, leaning back against the dressing room counter. "It's not, but it's the life I chose. I wanted fame, and I got it, with all the strings attached. But, Blitz, this isn't about me. We're talking about you. I'm doing fine, but you? You're on the brink, man. And if talking to Verosika can help even a little, then you owe it to yourself to try."

Blitz let out a long, shaky breath, feeling the weight of everything pressing down on him again. But he also felt a glimmer of hope, small and fragile, but there nonetheless. Maybe, just maybe, he could find a way out of this mess without losing everything.

"Thanks, Fizz," Blitz said again, the gratitude evident in his voice.

Fizz grinned, the playful spark back in his eyes. "Now, get out of here and go talk to your girl. You've got this, Blitzy."

Blitz nodded, a small smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. "Yeah… yeah, I do."

As Blitz left the club, the neon lights of Hell's nightlife flickering around him, he felt a strange mix of emotions—fear, hope, uncertainty. He knew what he had to do, but that didn't make it any easier. Talking to Verosika, opening up to her about everything, was terrifying. But Fizz was right. He couldn't keep hiding. Not if he wanted to keep her in his life.

As he walked through the streets, his thoughts drifted to his sister. Barbie had always been the strong one, the one who could take on the world without flinching. But now she was gone, disappeared into the night with nothing but a cryptic note left behind. Blitz missed her more than he could put into words. He felt like he was missing a part of himself without her, and the uncertainty of where she was or what she was doing gnawed at him constantly.

But there was nothing he could do about that now. He had to focus on the here and now, on the problems in front of him. And that meant talking to Verosika, no matter how scared he was of what might happen.

It didn't take long for him to find her. Verosika was at her place, a sleek, modern apartment that was a stark contrast to the chaos of Blitz's life. The moment he walked in, she knew something was wrong. Her usually vibrant, confident demeanor softened, concern etched across her face.

"Blitzy? What's going on?" she asked, her voice gentle as she approached him, her hand resting on his arm. "You look like you've seen a ghost."

Blitz took a deep breath, trying to steady himself. "V, we need to talk. There's something I've been hiding from you… something I should've told you a long time ago."

Verosika's eyes widened slightly, but she didn't pull away. Instead, she led him over to the couch, sitting down beside him, her gaze never leaving his. "Whatever it is, you can tell me, Blitzy. I'm here. I'm not going anywhere."

Blitz's heart ached at her words, at the sincerity in her voice. He didn't deserve her—he knew that. But he couldn't keep lying to her, not if there was any chance of saving what they had.

"It's about my family," Blitz began, his voice trembling. "My dad… he took out a loan, a big one, and now the loan sharks are coming after us. They've been threatening to hurt my mom, to hurt all of us, if we don't pay up. And… and I don't have the money, V. I don't know how to fix this."

Verosika listened intently, her expression unreadable. When Blitz finished, there was a long moment of silence. Blitz's heart pounded in his chest, waiting for her reaction, terrified of what she might say.

Finally, Verosika reached out, taking his hand in hers. "Blitzy, why didn't you tell me sooner? You've been carrying this all by yourself, haven't you?"

Blitz nodded, his throat tight. "I didn't want to drag you into it. You've got your own stuff to deal with. I didn't want to be a burden."

Verosika shook her head, her grip on his hand tightening. "You're not a burden, Blitz. I'm your partner. We're supposed to face this stuff together, aren't we?"

Blitz felt a tear slip down his cheek, and he quickly wiped it away, trying to keep his emotions in check. "I just… I didn't want to lose you, V. I was scared you'd see how messed up my life is and run for the hills."

Verosika's expression softened, and she reached up to gently cup his face, her thumb brushing away the remnants of his tears. "Blitzy, I'm not going anywhere. I love you, okay? I love you, and that means I'm here for all of it—the good, the bad, the ugly. You're not in this alone."

Blitz's heart swelled at her words, the fear and anxiety that had been gnawing at him for weeks slowly starting to dissipate. He leaned into her touch, his eyes closing as he allowed himself to believe, even just for a moment, that maybe things would be okay.

"I'm sorry, V," Blitz whispered, his voice barely audible. "I'm so sorry I didn't tell you sooner."

Verosika smiled, a sad, understanding smile, and leaned in to press a gentle kiss to his forehead. "It's okay, Blitzy. We'll figure it out together. Whatever it takes, we'll get through this. You're not alone."

And for the first time in a long time, Blitz actually believed it.

To be continued……