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The photo shoot today was surprisingly easy and relaxed, just tasteful poses in a variety of skimpy lingerie sets from Velvette's new line, but it took 7 hours and hundreds of retakes. Angel was ready to just wash off all the makeup, go back to the hotel, and eat a tub of ice cream before crashing until Charlie woke him up for dinner. Before he could actually do any of that though, or even do anything more than strip and pull on a robe, Valentino came sweeping into the dressing room and pushed him down into the makeup chair.
"Close your eyes, baby," Val told him, gentle in a way that he usually wasn't anymore, and Angel did. He felt Val spray the makeup remover on his face and start wiping it off until he heard the soft, "All done." When Angel opened his eyes, Valentino was gazing at him and idly rubbing his fingers against Angel's cheekbones, still gentle.
"Is uh. . . is everything okay, daddy?" No harm in trying to butter him up a bit. "I'm tired, I wanna get back ta the hotel."
Val looked at him for another long moment and then grinned. "Yeah, it's all good, Angie. But you can't go back to that dump yet."
Angel jolted a bit, panicking. "I don't think I can handle filming anything else today—"
"Calm your fucking tits, babe," Val snapped at him. "Vox and Alastor just wanna talk to you a bit. They're in Vox's office upstairs. You can head out after that. Now give daddy a kiss before I leave." Angel did automatically, letting Val lick into his mouth for a brief moment, and then Valentino pulled away and headed towards the door. "Oh, and we have dinner reservations for 7 on Friday. Wear that white and red set from today, you looked hot as hell."
And then he was gone, leaving Angel to numbly get dressed and wonder what the fuck the Media Demons wanted from him. Before he knew what was happening, Angel was in Vox's office, Vox standing on the other side of the desk and Alastor looming in the corner like the fucking creep he was, and there was a contract on the desk. Two contracts actually, one the familiar contract he'd had with Valentino for decades, but the other one was new. Even before he started flipping through the pages, Angel could feel the magic of all four of the AVees all over it. Vox had been talking a mile a minute for a few minutes now, but all Angel had to hear was "renegotiating your contract" and everything else was drowned out by the blood pounding in his ears. He very slowly picked up the papers when Vox impatiently motioned for him to and started to frantically flip through it as Vox's words finally started to cut through the fog.
"— so you're gonna be retired from the porn studios effective as soon as you sign this. You're not fired, we're just gonna be moving you to my film and tv studios instead. Al said you can do other crap for us too?"
"He does amazing work on a sewing machine and you know our dear Velvette always needs more hands. And as long as we keep him well armed, we can use him for defending our territory. You're quite the fighter, isn't that right, Angel?" Alastor grinned at him and after a moment, Angel nodded.
"Uh, yeah. Yeah, I can shoot a gun with the best of em."
"Wonderful! I've also seen what little acting Valentino has actually let you do and I think you have plenty of talents that have gone unused and would be a great boon to our business. Don't you agree, dear?" Vox rolled his eyes at the obviously leading question but also nodded.
"Yeah, yeah. So anyway, we're gonna start off with some secondary roles and if you're as good as Al says you are, then we'll get you some leading roles. I was thinking we could start with some action films, some romantic comedies, maybe a couple period dramas—"
"Does this say I have creative input?" Angel demanded, too shocked to even think before interrupting. "Like I actually get a say in my characters?"
"Mostly on their clothes and crap like romance and sex scenes. Alastor insisted on it, like he doesn't trust me not to just air straight up porn." Vox rolled his eyes hard but moved on before Alastor snapped at him. "You aren't going to be doing any of that shit now, no filming in the porn studios at all even if you ask for it and no porn of you being shared at all, even if it's taken by Val personally or a client. Alastor insisted on that one too."
"What about the shit I'm filming now? I was supposed ta do a shoot tomorrow, we've been working on filming this scene for like a month cuz Val keeps changing it."
"I really don't give a fuck about—"
Alastor neatly cut Vox off. "Anything that's finished being filmed will be edited and released. Whatever is incomplete will either not be released or will be edited and released with whatever scenes have been filmed already."
"And Val's. . . okay with this?" He already knew that Val had to have agreed, he was the one who sent Angel upstairs in the first place and his magic was all over the new contract, but that didn't mean that Val was happy about it.
"Yeah, he needed a new star anyway, one that isn't so. . . used up." Ouch. Fuck you too, Vox. "He's getting his pick from Al's contracts, but he's not done with you either so don't get too fucking comfortable. You have a monthly show at the club, a minimum you have to make from clients, and a weekly date night with Val. You can be filmed by him during the date nights but he can't release it publicly at all or share it without your permission, and you can kill any clients who pull out a camera."
Even looking at that part of the contract was shocking. The minimum was more than halved from what it was currently; he could make it with just a couple nights doing rounds at the club, he wouldn't even need to street walk if he didn't want to. And date nights with Valentino? Angel knew he should probably dread that, but it reminded him so much of how things used to be that it just made him feel warm instead.
There was a catch though. There was always a catch.
"And what do I have to do for all this?"
Now, Vox and Alastor both grinned at him, wide and sinister, Alastor's eyes even starting to glow in his excitement. Vox was the one who answered. "Nothing too hard. We just need you to spy on the princess' little pet project."
. . . What?
"What?"
"Not anything that would put you in danger, dear," Alastor said, still grinning. "Just do what you're already doing, get close to the princess, her annoying little guard dog, and any other. . . guests. Get them to trust you, share information about the project and their plans with you, and then report to either myself or Vox every week."
"We're already sending Alastor in," Vox informed him. "He'll be making his introduction at the hotel tomorrow and then his public reintroduction in about a week with a broadcast. You just have to pretend like you don't know him and that any relationship between you two is from meeting and getting to know each other at the hotel. If it makes things easier, you can even report to him in his bayou, as long as there aren't any eavesdroppers. We're still keeping his involvement with us on the down low though so remember to keep your fucking mouth shut."
Angel didn't even bother asking why they were targeting the hotel; Vox would just tell him it was none of his business and it wouldn't change anything anyway.
While Angel was reaching the end of the contract, everything matching what he was being told and with no catches that he could find, Vox set a pen down in front of him and tapped on the contract impatiently. "If you want all these benefits, you've gotta fucking sign it, Angel Dust. Now. You can walk away if you want but you won't be getting this offer again."
For a moment that felt like a million years, Angel thought about it. He thought about Charlie and her beaming smile, her optimism, her genuine desire to help him. The fact that she was the only person to believe in him, maybe the first person since he died. She truly and genuinely thought that he could be redeemed, that he could end up in Heaven, even with all the drugs and the whoring and blood on his hands— Angel didn't know what the AVees wanted with her, their intentions for Charlie and the hotel, and he didn't really want to know either. The thought of her in Val's studio though. . . it made him feel sick to his stomach.
And then he thought about the contract. The promise of getting the roles on tv and in films that he'd been dreaming about since he was a kid and his ma brought him and his siblings to the cinema for the first time. Days spent in the sewing studio, making clothes that would be worn on runways and admired by demons all across Hell. Even getting to help defend AVee territory, finally getting to FIGHT for and with someone other than Cherri for the first time in decades. . . It was like a dream come true, all the things he had been hoping and dreaming for since he first signed on with Val.
And Valentino. . .
Maybe this could be the change they needed. Today was a breath of fresh air, with Val being softer and kinder with him, the way he was. . . before. Before Val and Vox joined up, before Angel became just another commodity, before Val was more interested in having Vox and Alastor and then Velvette in his bed than he was in having Angel there. The last time they had actually gone out for dinner together was probably. . . god, it was back in the 90s, wasn't it? And now they had dinner reservations and Angel had a text informing him it was a formal dress code and Val would have a gown sent over and— Was it really so wrong? For Angel's heart to race with excitement? For him to be hopeful that this was a new future for him?
What would Angel even need Heaven for if all his problems with Hell were getting solved right now?
He picked up the pen and signed.