“Because in this house, no one treats you like an object.”
Angel laughed loudly then, collapsing onto the side of the sofa with one leg crossed over the other.
He idly twirled a popsicle between his fingers.
“Oh?
Is that it?
Baby, I’m not an ‘object’ out there either.
I’m merchandise.
I’m worth way more than an object, and Sinners are willing to pay a lot of money for it.”
Moon didn’t join in his laughter.
“When you were coming downstairs, you stopped at the third step.”
Angel raised an eyebrow.
“You even keep track of that?”
“You wanted to turn back then.
But in the end, you came down anyway.”
Angel blew him a kiss.
“If you want to hit on me, just say so, honey.
Don’t act so academic.
My rates are higher for the smart ones.”
Moon acted as if he hadn’t heard.
“When you leaned in just now, your positioning was also very precise.”
“A little closer and you might have gotten hit; a little further and you wouldn’t have been able to hook anyone.
You know exactly where to stop.”
Angel cursed under his breath.
Moon ignored it.
“You’re very good at this.”
“Good at what?”
“This whole routine.
The posture, the tone, the laugh, where your hands should land, when to act like a slut.
To anyone watching, it looks effortless, like you were born to do it.”
He looked directly into Angel’s eyes.
“But these are all practiced moves.
Taught to you by the people out there.”
The popsicle in Angel’s hand stopped moving, but his lips still held a defiant smirk.
“Congratulations, your observation skills are amazing.
Want a prize?
I’ll let you touch me.”
Moon remained unmoved.
“That’s the first thing.
You always have to make the situation dirty.
As long as it’s dirty enough, no one can continue a serious conversation.
That way, you never have to show your hand.”
The smile on Angel’s face finally began to falter.
“Fuck you.”
Moon pressed one step closer.
“You asked me why you’re still here.
I’m answering.
You might not like hearing it, but that doesn’t change the fact that it’s true.”
“Out there, you’re always calculating.
How close to get, how loud to laugh, how low to bend, how to respond, exactly how much loss you have to take before the transaction stops.
You’ve been calculating for so long that even taking a breath feels like part of the business.”
Moon glanced around the dilapidated lobby.
“This hotel is broken and poor, and clearly, the rules haven’t been established yet.
But it has one thing the outside world doesn’t: No one here is in a hurry to strip your clothes off, and no one is in a hurry to put a price tag on you.”
“Even Miss Charlie makes excuses for you, reminding others that your bad temper isn’t all there is to you.
Miss Vaggie has a short fuse, but it was clear just now that she was guarding against me, not you.”
Angel gripped his own arm tightly.
Moon continued, “That’s the second thing.
You think you’re clear-headed, that the Princess’s whole redemption thing is a child’s dream.
But you’re still here.
Do you really believe her?
Or did you suddenly decide you want to be good?”
Angel grit his teeth and remained silent.
“Neither, I suspect.
Moon peeled back the final layer.
“You can lie to yourself and call it your freedom.
But deep down, you know.
You’ve been sick of that life out there for a long time.”
Charlie wanted to go to him, but Vaggie held her back.
The oily, flirtatious layer in Angel’s voice vanished, replaced by a grating hoarseness.
“…What the hell do you want?
Do you want to hear me say my life is miserable?
Do you want to watch me break down right here?
Or do you want the Princess to give me a gold star for finally admitting I’m a pathetic loser?”
Moon observed the slight trembling in Angel’s movements.
“I don’t want to hear anything.”
“Don’t give me that shit.”
Moon looked into Angel’s eyes again.
“Truly.
If you cry out there, someone might pay to watch.
But no one here is buying.”
Angel cursed again and turned to leave.
Moon’s voice followed him from behind.
“The third thing is what you want to hear the least.”
Angel froze.
“You know best how those people out there treat you.
But the worst part of you right now isn’t something they left behind.
It’s something you’ve taken over yourself.
They wanted you to fake it, so you kept faking it even when no one was watching.
They wanted you to bow your head, so you started lowering it yourself even when no one was forcing you down.”
Angel stood perfectly still, his back to everyone.
“Shut up.”
Moon didn’t stop.
“You’ve mistaken the survival tactics they taught you for your actual personality.
You’ve said things like ‘this is just how I am, I don’t care’ or ‘I’m just a piece of trash’ for so long that even you’ve started believing it.”
Angel’s bottom pair of hands slumped down.
His other two pairs tried to rise into a nonchalant gesture, but they made it only halfway before losing their strength.
“You’ve been playing along.
Giving them whatever they want.
You’ve given so much that you’ve stopped bothering to count what little you have left.”
Husk walked out from behind the bar, for once keeping his mouth shut.
Vaggie watched Moon for a moment.
Her expression was still cold, but her hand had loosened its grip on her spear.
“You think these are your own choices.
That makes it sound like you still have options.
But if you really had that many options, you would have left already.”
Angel’s breathing became erratic.
He raised a hand to cover his face.
Moon watched his tightening shoulders and stopped pushing.
“It’s not that it doesn’t hurt.
You just don’t know where to stop.”
The words fell, and silence followed.
Moon stepped aside and nodded toward Charlie.
“Princess.”
Only then did Charlie walk over, stopping behind Angel.
She reached out but didn’t touch him.
“Angel.”
“Don’t come over here.”
Charlie stopped instantly.
“Okay.
I’ll just stand here.”
Angel kept his head down.
“Don’t look at me.”
“Okay.
I’m looking at the carpet.”
She actually looked down at the floor for a few moments.
“Uh, it’s in terrible shape today.” New chapters come out on g.com first.
Husk chimed in from the side, “Thank you for finally noticing the real victim in this establishment.”
Angel’s shoulders twitched—it was hard to tell if he was stifling a laugh or a curse.
“Today doesn’t count,” he said.
“Okay, it doesn’t count.”
“And don’t use this for some progress report, don’t write today down as a success story, and definitely don’t print it on any of those stupid flyers.”
Charlie nodded earnestly.
“Okay, I won’t print it.”
Angel wiped his face hard.
“…Fuck.”
Charlie waited where she stood.
A moment later, Angel spoke again.
“You know what the most annoying thing is?”
“I’m guessing…
me?”
“Shush for a second.” Angel sniffled.
“I stay here, but I never believed any of that ‘let’s all get better’ bullshit.
That stuff sounds like saccharine; it makes my brain ache.”
Charlie opened her mouth, then closed it.
“I stay here,” Angel paused, muttering a low curse, “because every time you say goodnight to me, you actually act like you think I deserve to have a tomorrow.”
This time, it was Charlie’s turn to be speechless.
Angel still didn’t turn around.
“People out there look at me like a menu.
You look at me like I’m just a roommate who’s a pain in the ass.”
He gave a dry laugh.
“It’s disgusting.”
Charlie sniffed.
“You really are a pain in the ass sometimes.”
“See?
You’re even terrible at comforting people.”
Charlie admitted it honestly.
“I’m sorry.
But I don’t need you to be better today.
I just…
want you to be here tomorrow.”
Angel stopped shaking.
After a long while, he said softly, “I don’t know how to stop.”
Charlie’s shoulders relaxed.
She said, “Then don’t stop yet.
Just stay here.
Whenever you feel like it, we can slowly learn other things.”
Angel turned his face slightly, but didn’t let her see him fully.
“That still sounds like a shitty advertisement.”
“But I tried my best.”
Husk took a swig of liquor.
“Great.
Free room and board now comes with public flaying and amateur counseling.
The services at this place are really rounding out.”
Vaggie glared at Husk.
Angel sat back down on the sofa, his hand still covering half his face, and spoke in a muffled voice.
“Just let me breathe for a minute.”
“Okay.”
“Don’t hug me.”
“Okay.”
“If you start crying, I’m leaving.”
Charlie hurriedly wiped her face with her sleeve.
“I’m trying.”
Angel actually laughed this time, a very light sound, followed by another curse.
“Fuck.
You’re so annoying.”
“Yeah.
I know.”
Only then did Charlie walk over and sit down beside him, leaving a respectful gap between them.