Friend to Foe

Chapter two: Mr. Pinstripe Suit

ON AIR

"My dearest listeners, I have a question to purpose all of you." Alastor said into his microphone, his words being broadcasted across all of Hell.
"Many of you died before the evolution of... certain medias. I've even spoken to a few of you who died before the invention of radio. So, my question is, how would you feel about the new souls who come down here and immediately push the agenda that aligns with the time they died? Are you all willing to let the younger generation gain control like this? Are you going to sit back and take it?" Alastor's grin grew genuine with his words. He knew exactly how to control exactly who he wanted.

Vox couldn't help but begin listening to Alastor's radio broadcast. Hell, he even bought an old record player to listen to him. Vox was eating breakfast with Valentino when he heard Alastor's threatening words. Val and Vox's eyes met. Valentino laughed.
"I thought you said your meeting went 'better than you imagined?'" He teased. Vox grimaced. What was Alastor trying to do? Why was he speaking against him?
"I-it did..." Vox glitched as he clearly look confused.
"Maybe he feels threatened by you~" Valentino said. Vox buffered for a second.
"You think..." Vox stood up, "the radio demon is threatened by me?" He spoke. There were moments where Vox's false confidence faltered. This was one of those moments. Valentino stood up as well and walked over to Vox. He wrapped one of his arms around the tv's waist and caressed the side of his screen with the other.
"Who wouldn't be~?" Val cooed. He just fueled Vox's ego far more than he intended. He also aided Vox in misinterpreting Alastor's words drastically. This began a trend that was sure to continue.

A couple days later Vox had gone back to the same bar he met Alastor in. He hoped to see the red demon again. When he entered, he scanned the room for Alastor but did not see him. Although he knew there was a chance of this outcome, he was still disappointed. Vox decided he'd stay and get a drink; he could use one anyways. This time Vox was actually able to look around the place. Before he was so focused on impressing Alastor. He saw a few dancers on the stage dancing to jazz music. There was no form of modern tech in sight. There were, however, many forms of radios. No wonder Alastor liked this place, he thought. Little did Vox know; Alastor actually owned the place. He ordered a cocktail from the cat bartender.

Husk looked at the TV and immediately did a double take. Alastor had always told him to let him know of any unusual or threatening guests. Husk wasn't really sure if Vox was a threat, nor did he really care. But he could imagine the shit Alastor might give him if he didn't call it in. While Husk was making the tv's cocktail he called Alastor on the old ass telephone he forced him to use.
"Why Hello Husker! What seems to be the issue?" Alastor answered.
"That TV guy just walked into the bar. The one you met with. I'm not sure if he's a threat or whatever." Husk said. This wasn't the first time he'd had to do this. Many people come into the bar trying to pick a fight with Alastor, or Mimzy.
"Thank you, Husk. What a loyal little pet you are!" He said enthusiastically. Husk grimaced. He hung up the phone without a word. He served Vox and mentally checked out of the situation.

Not long later Alastor walked in. One of his many workers greeted him, causing Vox to turn and look. His eyes were wide as he looked at the man straightening his bow tie. Their eyes met.
"Vox! What a coincidence!" Alastor beamed as he walked toward the bar and sat on the stool beside Vox. He crossed his legs and faced Vox.
"What brings you here?" Alastor questioned.
"... I just liked the atmosphere I suppose." Vox lied as he took a sip of his drink. While the atmosphere was nice, Alastor was better. He needed to know if Alastor actually feared him. He craved the man's attention.
"Why thank you. I'm glad my little passion project can be enjoyed." He said with a signature smile. His passion project? Vox was confused.
"Do you own this place?" Vox asked.
"I do! I found it was a charming way to allow my owned souls to earn a little money." Alastor said as if it were nothing. He looked at Husk as he spoke. Vox nodded, taking mental notes.

"So, I listened to your last broadcast." Vox said confidently as he folded his hands.
"How splendid!" Was all Alastor said. This threw Vox for even more of a loop.
"What..." Vox mumbled. Alastor just smiled. Vox tried to compose himself.
"I found what you said at the end to be very interesting." Vox gripped the table. He was trying desperately to get Alastor to address him.
"Hm?" Alastor pretended to be confused, "oh about the incoming generation? Don't worry Vox, my dear, it wasn't about you or your colleagues." Alastor flipped his hand and shrugged it off. Vox couldn't tell if he was more overwhelmed by Alastor saying 'it wasn't about him' or the use of 'my dear' again.
"W-well I'm sure you can understand why I believed it was." Vox said, his voice faltering. Alastor noted his loss of composure.
"Sure. But the fact is that it was not." Alastor spoke to him like he was stupid, which he thought he was in this moment. He could tell messing with Vox was something he'd enjoy. Vox felt small. He felt bad about himself. His dismay made Alastor laugh to himself.

After a short moment of silence between the pair, Mimzy walked over to Alastor.
"Alastor! Care for a dance?" She squeaked out. Vox looked up from his sadness to see Alastor's reaction. There was no way he was going to da-
"Of course, dear!" Alastor responded. Why did that make Vox feel jealous? In any case he watched Alastor as he took Mimzy by the arm to the dance floor. With the snap of his fingers "Mr. Pinstripe Suit" began playing through all the radios. Almost everyone in the bar turned to watch the show Alastor was about to put on. It didn't happen often, but when it did everyone was sure to remember.

Vox watched in complete captivity as Alastor took off his blazer and engaged in a quick swing dance with the short blonde. His movements were so fluid like he'd been dancing all his life. Vox couldn't help but note the demon's broad shoulders and small waist. He felt heat rise to his screen as he looked away from the other man. He had to get it together. Why did Alastor make him such a mess? Why did he feel like this? Why... did he like it?