Every Rose Has its thorn (a Hazbin hotel story)

Chapter 7

It’s been a month and so far everything at the Hotel has been going smoothly. Angel’s been out of trouble for the most part, Alastor’s really brightened up the place and had put some advertisements on the radio, Niffty’s a goddess with cleaning, Husk’s… okay.

And Alexander’s been tending the garden again! But now he brings Jackson, or another one of his friends since he’s, how he puts it, “grounded”. It’s cute how his friends worry for him. And everyone is now acquainted, but it’s mostly Jackson who visits.

Vaggie and Charlie are happy with what’s happening. Well, mostly Charlie. Speaking of which, Charlie’s learnt a lot about redemption, or in theory. She may need to hire a therapist or psychologist, or just learn herself.

And they’ve made a large leap! They have another Patron!

Her name is Crymini, she’s a little younger than Charlie expected, but that’s good! She can learn easier!

Crymini’s a little rebellious, though, but that’s to be expected for her age.

So, in celebration, Crymini had suggested going to The Note String’s Club, and Charlie saw this as a brilliant idea! Perfect to both introduce Crymini to Alexander and to celebrate!

But… A certain band is playing…

The Rose of Blasphemy.

“Of course we came here on a performing day…” Vaggie holds her nose while Charlie smiles awkwardly beside her.

“You never know, it might not be that bad.” Charlie looks to the bright side, even though she has a strong opinion on the Metal Genre of music, and she looks to the rest of the group. Alastor looks immensely annoyed. Husk doesn’t look like he gives a fuck. Niffty is sipping a glass and is off in her own little world. Crymini looks happy. Almost too happy.

“Okay, everyone, how’re you all doing tonight?” They hear one of the guitarists, the Grey Dog-looking one, speak in the mic. The crowd just BOOMS in volume; Charlie covers her ears at that. “Hell yeah!”

The drums go off to begin the song. And the Growling begins.

“What is that?” Alastor taps his fingers, annoyed.

“Your Shirt Would Look Better With A Columbian Necktie. It’s a song by I killed The Prom Queen.” The Bartender explains and everyone looks to him. His Alexander’s Boss. He’s looking over to the stage seeing the band go all out “They’re compensating for recent events. Those boys are interesting…”

On stage Alexander is having fun with his chorus, he takes of his shirt when it gets a little warm but also because some fangirls are cheering for it. He’ll get a new one, they’re cheap.

He yells to some fans to hype himself up while there’s a brief instrumental. There’s a bit of fencing between him and them, to keep them out and to keep them from potentially hurting him. Hopefully his little gauze on his abdomen isn’t very noticeable, he doesn’t want anyone to take a chance.

Because of what happened earlier… the shanking… His mates made changes to how Alexander performs now while his gauze remains on him. For one, he’s no longer allowed to physically interact with the crowd, no diving – he’s never done that anyway – and no VIP meetings. And with these new restrictions, they added more security around the stage so no one acts stupid.

All so no one hurts him, on purpose or by accident.

Sure, it sucks, but the Boss has a plan for when everything mellows out. Money, money, money, it makes the world go round – or in this case, Hell.