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hopeless

ωαяиιиg: ¢σитαιиѕ α∂υℓт ¢σитєит!! νιєωєя ∂ιѕ¢яєтισи α∂νιѕє∂!!

Angel

I stand in my room, amazed by the difference Alastor made. Just a simple movement from him and it looks trendy and chic, like an actual hotel. Nuggets walks over and rubs against my foot, snorting questioningly. I had set him down after the bedroom renovation ended- right before I hugged Alastor out of impulse and he pushed me off. 

Idiot. Why would you hug him. 

My phone vibrates. I flinch, knowing that only two people text me, and one is currently asleep, mending from the turf war today. I don't look at the text, knowing it probably contains an order to come back to work, with a not-so-subtle threat tacked onto the end paired with a corny pet name. 

I pull my phone out, ignoring the text and opening my music. I hit play on addicted, and a notification pops up. Connect to bedroom speakers? It asks. I blink in surprise. Did he think of everything? I select yes and the song booms out over the speakers, high quality bass reverberating throughout the room. 

I settle into my new mattress, blankets plush and soft, surrounded by pillows and the gauzy pink layers of the canopied ceiling of my bed. 

I'm starting to warm up to this guy. 

M phone vibrates again. I freeze. 

What does he want?  

I reach for my phone. 

Angie, sugar, I need you at the studio now. 

We have another new prospective collab company, and as you understand, I need to put on a show to impress them. You're going to be here in 30 minutes. Don't bother getting dressed;  anything I'd want you to wear is here.

The dread settles on me heavily. I hear another ping and look down.

You have no choice in the matter. I need my best performers.

I turn the music off, hearing  for the first time Al's soft jazz through the walls. I throw my head back and stare at the new white and gold ceiling. I feel it building, building, building, until: 

"AGGGGGHHHHHHHHHHHH!" I scream in anguish. I grip my head with all six of my hands, yanking at my hair and shaking with the intense anger and sadness and disgust and self hatred and fear and worthlessness that is possessing me right now.

The music stops. Shit. I hear a knock at the door. I consider not opening it, but I have to leave anyways, so I just take a deep breath, and, smoothing my hair, I walk over and open it. 

There stands Alastor, smile firmly plastered in place. "Something wrong?" he asks, tilting his head. 

"Look, I can't talk right now," I say, burying my head in my hands. "I have a gig to be at in twenty minutes, and Val's gonna hit the roof if I'm not there at least 10 minutes early. I have to dress up for some fat, sick, ugly bastards who only want me to make them some money, and after I put a show on for them, Val's probably gonna just fuck me until I'm dry and begging for mercy. So, sorry I can't entertain you right now, but my schedule's all filled up," I snap. 

His smile flickers. 

He opens his mouth, then closes it. 

For once, Alastor the radio demon is speechless. 

I push past him coldly, pulling  my coat on. "But it's no big deal," I say bitterly. "I'll just keep doing it again, and again, and again, because no matter what I do, only Valentino has control over me and my choices." 

I walk down the hallway, hugging my coat tight and wishing I could just disappear. 

Looking back, I see his hand halfway raised towards me, smile gone, as if he wants to say something consoling, but just doesn't know how.

. ⋅ ˚̣- : ✧ : – ⭒ ⊹ ⭒ – : ✧ : -˚̣⋅ .