Vox wakes up past season 2 and finds himself in the body of his human counterpart and chooses to go chase Alastor in New Orleans to fix their relationship before it was even supposed to start.
Is it stupid to chase the man that drove you to kill yourself? Yes. Is Vox going to do it anyway? I think we all know the answer to that.
It seems like Alastor was closer than Vox thought.
Chapter 2: The Ears Were A Real Loss
“New Orleans? Are you sure?” Mr. Whittman asked in bewilderment.
“Why wouldn't I be sure?” Mrs. Whittman scoffed from the corner and shook her head like she was disappointed. Maybe she should've been an actual parent if she wanted an opinion.
“Vincent, you know New Orleans is mostly populated by those filthy creatures, right?” That made Vox pause for a moment as he tried to recall what that could mean. Then it hit him.
“Oh…” Vox had to come up with an explanation and fast. Luckily, that was his whole career. “It would look great for my image, don't you think? Vincent Whittman, the man who put himself amongst the lowest to bring entertainment.” The words felt dirty in his mouth. Vox was no stranger to racism, but he knew better than to say blunt things like that, less he met the back of Velvette's hand.
Mrs. Whittman stopped her scoffing and seemed a lot less disappointed while Mr. Whittman stopped giving him a skeptical gaze. “Alright then, I'll call the people I have down there and arrange what position you'll take. What day would you like to start?”
Vox wanted to head down to New Orleans as soon as possible, but knew he had to play his cards right. Vox knew this business, knew his father didn't, so he picked a date he knew the TV's would be busy and the radio broadcasts would be slower, more open. He didn't know much about radio, but if he could get his orientation done by someone in the radio department, then he could surely impress Alastor expand his knowledge of the field.
As soon as he could escape, Vox ran back up to his room and started packing. He remembered Alastor mentioning what the weather was like down South a few times and packed accordingly. Shorts, t-shirts, and of course a few formal outfits for the job.
Vox was thankful he didn't have to plan flights or housing in the new city. He hadn't travelled by conventional means in a long time and had never gone far enough to need to stay in a different building whilst in hell.
It took a few days for everything to be sorted out. It honestly bored Vox to spend those days around the house, but he made the most of it eating old foods he had forgotten existed and speaking time with Anna. He had gotten so adjusted to everything moving quickly in the modern world that he had completely forgotten how slow the 1930s were.
‘I'm sure Alastor wouldn't have had a problem if he was in this position.’ The thought made him pause. It was true, but it was also embarrassing that Alastor was the first place his mind went to. Oh, what the hell, he had nearly killed himself for the man and now he was embarrassed. Fucking human body hormones made him feel like he was in high school again.
Vox made sure to give Anna a long and warm goodbye. He never got to say goodbye before and he knew for a fact he was never coming back.
Heading out of home for the second time seemed so surreal, like he was living in a different man's skin. To some extent, he was, and he had to adjust accordingly. He was still tripping on his own feet occasionally and completely missing when he went to grab something. After adjusting to his demonic body, being thrown back into human flesh was like having to learn how to function all over again. He also found himself gasping for air sometimes, his brain no longer used to breathing with a nose instead of the gills he so dearly missed.
The pressure changes in the plane made Vox nauseous, but he stubbornly refused to throw up, choosing instead to suffer in silence while ignoring the woman sitting beside him that was trying to talk to him. She may have been trying to flirt, but Vox really couldn't tell.
Stepping out into the New Orleans air was like getting hit with a heatwave his human body was not prepared for. Right, adjusting to heat would be another quirk of this body. Vox basically ran to the apartment his father had him staying in while he was stationed there. He still had another week to explore before his first day, but he dearly refused to look around more than he needed to. Vox checked out a few places he had heard Alastor mention, but he stayed in his apartment for the most part, working on scripts for shows later on when he climbed the ladder.
The day eventually came for him to start. He walked in with a formal outfit and his typical air of confidence. Vox knew the people in this profession like that back of his hand, he had this in the bag.
The man his father had a connection with approached him first with a name and introduction that Vox reciprocated with a smile. “So, unfortunately for you, most people are a little busy, so I've got to pass your orientation over to someone else.” The man looked around for a minute before scrunching his face in disgust. “Actually, it might be better if you start tomorrow when I'm available for you.”
“Why?” Vox said with a little confusion. Couldn't whoever ran the radio department handle it?
“Well, the only person available who is also qualified -though I would argue only on paper- is extremely annoying.”
“Don't worry, I've got a great tolerance for this stuff.” Vox smoothed his suit while looking around for who the man was looking at.
“That's very nice of you, but I couldn't subject you to that.”
“I insist. I wanted to start today, I'll start today.”
“You're a better man than me Vincent.” The next word that left the man's mouth was one that almost made Vox recoil. When whoever the man was calling for didn't answer, he changed to a different slur. Seeming annoyed, the man finally relented and called out a name that made Vox freeze. “Alastor!”
Vox wanted to turn around and run out from embarrassment when his face flushed bright red at seeing the very man he came to New Orleans for. He knew in his head that Alastor wasn't white, but seeing the elegant dark tan, effortless curls, and sharp brown eyes made the air catch in his throat.
Pushing aside his racing heart for now, he plastered back on his camera ready smile and confidently walked over with the man he barely registered was still there. “Why didn't you respond the first time?” the irrelevant man complained.
Vox nearly melted at hearing the buttery smooth voice that came from those always smiling lips. “Did you call me? I didn't hear my name.” It felt foreign hearing Alastor's voice without a filter over it, but it was a strangely comforting change.
The annoying man rolled his eyes before gesturing to Vox. “This is our newest hire. We're busy today, so you're doing his orientation. His name-”
Vox cut in front of him. “Vincent Whittman.” he introduced himself and held out his hand.
Alastor's smile didn't move an inch, but Vox could tell the man was studying him. “Alastor Hartfelt-”
“Pleasure to be meeting you, quite a pleasure,” the two spoke in unison while shaking hands, though Alastor wavered halfway through, not used to hearing his signature phrase come from someone else.
Meanwhile, Vox was internally squealing with joy at having caught Alastor off guard. That look of confusion was going to be in more fantasies than even Vox wanted to admit.
Alastor pulled back his hand and slotted his smile back in place. “Well, that was certainly interesting. Good job, breaking expectations on your first day.” Oh, fuck! Vox actually dug his nails into his palm to keep from falling to his knees right then and there.
The guy who can't fucking shut up bid them farewell and finally left. “So, how about a tour?” Vox asked in his smoothest voice.
“But of course,” Alastor responded with a mischievous gaze. How badly Vox wanted to hold him and never let go, but he knew Alastor better than that, knew it would only push him away, so he kept a respectable distance.
As they walked and talked, the conversation flowed in a way Vox hadn't felt in decades. He barely paid attention to all the places Alastor showed him, eyes planted firmly on the former deer sinner. Was it former? Or would I be in the future now? Vox didn't know or care at that moment.
At one point, Alastor mentioned something that had to do with water and within less than a minute, Vox was telling him everything he knew about sharks in animated detail. He barely noticed how Alastor was moving around him to keep his gaze trained on Vox's eyes.
Suddenly in the middle of Vox's rant, Alastor stopped walking. “You know, I've never seen such a thing.”
Vox paused and looked over in confusion. “Seen what?” Vox thought distantly that Alastor might be talking about his passion for sharks until the radio host pointed to his eyes. “Oh, you mean heterochromia? I guess it is pretty rare, huh? I get that a lot.”
“I can imagine.” Alastor continued staring until Vox remembered a conversation he'd had with the man.
“Hey, Al.” Vox caught Alastor's attention after a long period of silence, the ice in his drink having almost completely melted.
“Yes Vincent?” the Radio Demon responded, swirling a finger around his glass. Most wouldn't have been able to tell, but the two had been drinking in front of each other for a while and Vox knew Alastor was getting tipsy.
“I've been wondering since you mentioned the cannibal thing, do different colours taste different?” the TV headed man asked as though he'd been thinking over how to word that question.
Alastor stared at him silently for a few seconds before responding. “I wouldn't know. I've only ever eaten one kind of person. Though…” Alastor leaned closer to him, that ever present smile seeming more giddy than usual. “I've always wondered what eyes taste like; if the different colours taste different.”
The memory made him realise the reason for the intense gaze. Was Alastor going to kill him to taste his eyes? Vox would let him Vox was probably thinking too deep into it. They had only just met and surely he didn't get on Alastor's bad side in the total hour they'd spent together so far.
Alastor finally decided to open his mouth and speak, “That was basically everything. Not much orientation here other than showing people around. I don't have your information, so someone will show you later how to run the systems you'll need for your job.” The radio hot then turned to walk away.
“Wait!” The sudden raise in Vox's voice even startled himself, but Alastor just turned to him calmly. Vox cleared his throat and straightened his posture slightly. “Do you think we could get to know each other more? Outside of work I mean. Like at a cafe or restaurant, it would be my treat.”
Alastor stared with an unreadable expression for a few moments. “I'm afraid I must decline, my schedule is quite full and I have prior commitments with friends.”
Vox let Alastor walk away that time. Friends. That word made Vox want to scream and cry at the same time. Friends. Friends. Friends. Alastor had friends. There are no friends in hell, Vincent! Friends… So there was room for friendship, but not his.
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