Helluva Boss - After the Party

The FUK'N coffee

Verosika sat at a small table in the corner of FUK'N Coffee, a chain supposedly owned by Mammon. Cheap beans, crap taste but it was just 'fuckin' coffee. She absently stirred her drink, trying to distract herself from the conversation that was about to unfold. The familiar bitterness of her coffee matched the unresolved anger that had lingered for years, festering and growing despite her efforts to move on. She had hosted parties to vent her frustrations, even surrounded herself with distractions, but nothing had truly erased the bitterness she felt toward Blitzo. Seeing his vulnerable side recently had stirred up emotions she thought she'd buried for good.

"Fuck," she muttered, wishing she had a flask of Beelzejuice instead. But no, she shook the thought away. She'd relied on that too much lately, using its honeyed taste to wash away anxiety and forget her troubles—if only for a little while.

The bell above the door chimed, and her pulse quickened. A short, red-skinned imp known as Blitzo walked in. His eyes scanned the room cautiously until they landed on her. His face was neutral, devoid of emotion, and his eyes looked sunken and tired. He hesitated for a moment, then approached the table with his usual guarded demeanor. He jumped up onto the seat, and a moment of heavy silence hung between them.

"Verosika," he greeted, his tone matter-of-fact. He looked around the cozy, quiet shop, a stark contrast to the chaos they were both used to.

"Blitz," she replied, cursing herself for the awkward silence that followed. Where had all her words gone? His face was so worn, heavy bags under his eyes, and a glazed expression made it appear as if parts of him weren't really present.

"Don't remember you being the coffee type," Blitzo finally said, breaking the tension.

She shrugged, offering a small, forced smile. "Well, truth be told, I'd rather be throwing back booze, but... I suppose I've had enough of that lately."

Blitzo smirked, but it lacked his usual sharpness. "Yeah, same. Feels like I've been drinking for about a month straight."

She nodded in agreement; he didn't look so great. "So, what's this about?" he asked, his tone light but cautious. "I already told you I'm not in the mood for a screaming match, and if this is about the money I borrowed from you then—"

Verosika cut him off, "No... No, Blitz, this isn't about a screaming fit or the money you sto—borrowed from me. I got over that a long time ago. This is about... Look, I needed to talk to you, Blitz." She froze for a moment, unsure of how to continue. "After I saw you at the party recently, I realized that it was time for us to talk. Really talk."

Blitzo shifted uncomfortably, reaching for the coffee she'd ordered him. "Party, huh? Uh... you're going to have to help me out a little here. Like I said, I've been hitting the sauce pretty hard. The last couple of days are sort of a haze."

Verosika stared at him, wondering if he was just playing some sort of game with her. "You don't remember when we met at the party?" she asked after a while, her voice softening, tinged with disbelief. "You don't remember when you told me you didn't want to be... this way?" Her heart sank a little, and she struggled to hide her disappointment.

Blitzo locked eyes with her and sipped his coffee, burning his tongue. "Ow, fuck!" he spat as the pain from the hot liquid faded. "Yeah, no, I remember that part." His gaze dropped to the table, and his voice grew quieter, almost hesitant. "Everything else is kind of fuzzy..."

"Fuzzy?" she repeated, raising an eyebrow, trying to probe deeper.

Blitzo nodded, his voice barely above a whisper. "Yeah. I ended my drinking spree at some bar down in Sloth. They were serving free booze, something called Lethe, and I guess I had too much of it."