Hell's Company

Chapter 7 (Edited)

I didn't see Fia for a long time after that. Michael had noticed that she wasn't making house calls and I wasn't troubled by it, naturally, but was too perceptive and knew better than to ask me what happened. I assumed he was still hanging out with her because he wasn't with me all of the time. I never asked what else he did without me, but I had thought of asking about Fia many times, going as far as opening my mouth, but I always changed my mind. What had happened between us was confusing and I didn't want to think about it.

Michael had been stopping by for only quick visits and occasionally taking me out to dinner or other more relaxing things than partying. Sometimes he would just want to sit in my living room and close his eyes. He said my apartment was so high above everything else, so removed from it, that it was peaceful and he could breathe here. I let him. Other times I would show him some of my music in an attempt to integrate him into newer music. I would always smile when I realized a new album from a favorite artist had been added to my collection. It was cool the Hell kept itself updated on music from the living world. All of this was probably more attempts to make sure I didn't go crazy by isolating myself.

I was going crazy, though, but only slightly. I had been in a terrible mood, possibly another reason why Michael hadn't been around so much, ever since the last welcoming party. Whether it was because of what happened with Fia, or whatever the fuck that was with Luca, I didn't know. Whichever it was, I was saddened immensely by it and hated myself for feeling that way.

Though I knew my place was the safest and basically the only place I could go to, I often found myself staring out the window and nursing bottles of hard liquor, looking at the vast expanse of Hell and watching all of the ant-like people flood the streets, wishing I could be as courageous as them. I wish I could venture outside without fearing for my safety, and I wished I could feel confident enough with myself to even go outside alone.

As I poured myself another glass of alcohol, I briefly wondered if I was really immune to the disease of Hell like Michael thought. It doesn't seem like it, as I started developing drinking habits. He put too much faith in me.

I continued watching the city, mesmerized by the flashing neon lights and spinning spotlights illuminating the turbulent red clouds, and slowly realized that I actually wanted to go out. I debated it for several minutes in my head, before setting my glass down and leaving my apartment. In the elevator, I pressed the button that would bring me to Michael's floor. I put my ear to his door before knocking, trying to determine if he had company over, but I heard nothing so I knocked and waited. He didn't come to answer, so I listened again and heard nothing. Discouraged, I walked back down the hallway and waited for the elevator to come back, but when it opened, I was surprised to see Michael walking out.

"Fancy meeting you here. Come here often?" Michael asked, amused, and moved past me to get into his apartment.

"I live here." I stuck my tongue out at him.

"If I'm seeing correctly, this is my floor, not yours. That brings me to ask the question, what brings you here? You never leave your apartment of your free will." He unlocked his apartment and ushered me inside.

I turned to him and smiled. "I want to go out tonight."

"You mean like... dinner?" He was clearly suspicious of my meaning.

"No, there's a welcoming party tonight, right? I know I've missed a few, but I've been keeping track." I said, blushing when Michael stared at me in shock.

"Seph, I think I might die of shock. Are you sure?"

"Yeah, I mean, you'll be with me, right, boyfriend?" I teased and kissed his cheek. I was sure he could probably smell the booze on my breath, but he never cared when I was drinking or not, which was refreshing. "I'll go get ready."