Chapter Text
“Oh,” Blue said with an air of disgust as he opened the door. “You’re back.”
Anthony nodded solemnly, his usual cheerfulness nowhere to be found.
“I-” he sighed deeply. “I need your help.”
“Can’t ever do things yourself, hm?” Blue tilted his head and smiled. “Come in.”
And so, Anthony ended up back in the exact lounge chair he’d sat in a few months ago, and he remembered it like it was yesterday. The same furniture adorned the room. The same almost wilted flowers on the coffee table, the same uncomfortable silence as Blue poured both of them tea, the same lack of dust. He shifted in his seat, and waited as his tea cooled down.
“So,” Blue started, looking uninterested. “What is it you want this time?”
Surely the man was aware of what had happened between the two co-hosts? Spamton was his brother, for someone’s sake! If anyone had information on the businessman’s whereabouts, it should be him.
Anthony blew on his tea, watching the plumes of steam swirl around the air. “I’m looking for someone.”
Blue grimaced, crossing his arms. He knew exactly who Anthony was talking about. “And you think I know where that someone is?”
“I have reasons to believe you do, yes. Aren’t you his brother? I’d assume you two have at least some semblance of a relationship, even if you aren’t on friendly terms,” Anthony spoke, trying to seem as professional and uninvolved as he could. Blue didn’t have to know the exact details about their partnership.
“‘Not on friendly terms’ is generous. You know what he is, right?” the other said, emphasising the ‘what’ with a snarl.
An ugly feeling nestled itself in Anthony’s chest, the suspicion he had before seemingly being true. Spamton’s siblings despised him, simply because he was different than them. Blue’s hostility didn’t surprise him that much, he knew how cruel ignorant people could be.
“I do,” he said, awaiting Blue’s response.
The other raised his eyebrows. “You got rid of him because of that, right?”
“Not at all, I actually want to set some things right,” Anthony replied, putting his cup back down.
The temperature in the room dropped a few degrees, and Blue’s hands, stirring in his cup, stilled. An unpleasant smile crept onto his face.
“Then we are done speaking,” he announced.
Anthony frowned. “You can’t do that, I need to apologise!”
“Look, ‘Ant’,” Blue sneered. “I have no idea where Spamton is. He’s not responded to any of the texts I sent him, hasn’t answered any calls either. And even if I did know, I wouldn’t tell you. He shouldn’t have ever gotten the chance to work with you, he doesn’t deserve it.”
“Right,” Anthony said, balling one of his fists in frustration. There was only one last remedy he had to get Blue to talk.
“How about if I pay you?”
About an hour and many negotiations later, Anthony found himself in a shabbier part of the city, the hotel Blue had claimed was Spamton’s former home looking neglected and dirty. Anthony noticed the sign on the front flickered.
He reluctantly walked over to the entrance, avoiding the large puddle that had formed on the pavement. It was dark outside, and even if the hotel wasn’t as nice as the previous one, Anthony was glad to have some warmth and shelter.
“What are you doing here?” a voice cut through the silence. A bored-looking receptionist glared at him from behind the counter, her eyes piercing. “You’re that guy from TV, no?”
“Ah, yes, I am indeed,” Anthony stuttered. “Say, do you remember someone named Spamton, by any chance?”
The receptionist looked at him inquisitively, and then laughed. “Hah! Do I remember Spamton, of course I do! We kicked ‘em out a few days ago, he couldn’t afford the room anymore. It’s boring around here without him, y’know? Pretty sure he lives in one of the garbage bins around the corner now. I do want to warn you, though, he’s not exactly a joy to be around at the moment,” she said, gesturing to the side of the building.
Anthony’s heart sank. A garbage bin? Had it gotten that bad?
“Thank you ever so much, my dear. I owe you,” he said, putting a few coins on the counter.
After waving her goodbye, he hurried outside, around the building, and into a small alleyway. Trash was littered everywhere, and it reeked of something Anthony didn’t care to know. He walked around cautiously, wishing he had something like a stick to fend off potential attackers.
He screeched when someone jumped from the shadows, and grabbed his coat.
“Let go of me!,” Anthony yelled, pushing the other away and pinning them to the wall. They were of a small stature, and their face was covered with some kind of rag. A worn turtleneck, torn blazer, and broken trousers hung around their body, clearly demanding replacement.
His attacker squirmed, and then reached to bite one of Anthony’s fingers. Their breath stank of alcohol, and Anthony quickly pulled his arms back. The stranger lunged forward, and Anthony grabbed his bag, and hit the other on the head, as hard as he could. They stilled, and then promptly collapsed.
“Oh my, I’m so sorry!” Anthony gasped, crouching down to inspect the damage. He pulled the rag back, to see if his attacker was bleeding. As the piece of cloth fell to the ground, Anthony recognised the person laying unconscious on the cold hard ground. It was none other than his former business partner. He’d found him, but at what cost?
Spamton awoke with a headache. His vision was blurry, without his glasses he couldn’t see very well. As he came to his senses, he realised he was in his old room, his nightstand covered with some sort of blanket, a plate with a sandwich and a glass of water on top.
He groaned as he tried to sit upright, his vision swimming even more than before. He grabbed the glass on the nightstand with a shaky hand, and drank it all in one gulp. After that, he devoured the sandwich, leaving not a single crumb.
Only then he began getting aware of his surroundings. He remembered getting kicked out of the hotel, and drinking to get rid of the memories of… Oh, right. Nothing of that explained why he was back in his old room, though. Perhaps he had died and had gone to heaven?
A faint rustling caught his attention, and he squinted when a man entered the room. He wore a white shirt with black leather trousers, his fancy brown shoes tapping on the floor. Spamton couldn’t recognise him, because his vision wasn’t cooperating, but something about him seemed familiar. The man’s face lit up as he saw Spamton sitting somewhat upright.
“You’re awake!” he exclaimed, and Spamton’s eyes went wide in shock. Maybe he had died and gone to heaven after all. He would recognise that voice anywhere.
“Thank someone,” Anthony, because how could it be anyone else, continued. “I thought I might have killed you.”
He chuckled nervously, wringing his hands together. Spamton was rendered speechless, he just sat and stared at the man standing awkwardly in the middle of the room. When he regained the ability to speak, the first thing out of his mouth was: “Why are you here?”
Anthony looked off to the side, a gesture Spamton had seen a thousand times. “Well, I, ah, you see,” he stumbled. Spamton had never truly seen him so lost for words, except right after he had kissed him.
“I wanted to apologise,” Anthony finished, bowing his head in shame.
Spamton shook his head in disbelief. “How did you even find me?
Anthony seemed uncomfortable, shifting on his feet and fidgeting. “Well, I had a talk with your, uhm, your relative.”
“No way you went to Blue again, right?” Spamton asked, already knowing the answer. When Anthony nodded, he groaned. “How much did you pay him? Wait, no, forget I even asked, I don’t want to know.”
“Elnina told me some things, and I realised I was wrong about you lying to me. You have never owed me any explanation for being who you are, and I apologise for making you feel like you did,” Anthony rushed to say, looking at Spamton almost desperately.
Spamton blinked a few times, making sure what he was seeing was real. Anthony was here, he wasn’t disgusted, and he was apologising? What had Spamton done to deserve this?
“So you know I’m…” Spamton trailed off, gesturing to himself.
Anthony nodded again. “I do.”
Spamton sighed, clenching the covers in his fists. “I’m sorry that I didn’t tell you, I thought you’d, you know… Fire me on the spot. I know you care about your image, and I’d be a risk.”
“I think I might have cared about my image a bit too much,” Anthony sighed, looking guilty. He ran his hand over the edge of the bed, lost in thought. “Did you live here before you moved to Queen’s hotel?”
Spamton stiffened. “...Yeah.”
“That’s not what you told me,” Anthony said, tilting his head.
“Hah,” Spamton huffed. “If I told you ‘I’m a washed up advertiser who got kicked out of the house for being transgender and now earn my money by basically doing every dirty task no one else wants to do’ you wouldn’t have offered me a job, would you now?”
Anthony crossed his arms, and shook his head slowly. “Probably not, no, but you worked harder than any other person I could’ve recruited. You talk down on yourself now, but haven’t I only ever been positive about your performance in the studio?”
Spamton looked away, frowning. “I didn’t really have a choice, you know,” he mumbled. “It was my one chance of changing my life for the better for once, but of course I had to ruin that too.”
“If anyone ruined your chances in this matter it’s me,” Anthony said. “Look, Spamton, I- ah. I came looking for you because I wanted to apologise, for one, but also because, well…”
Spamton raised his eyebrows. “Spit it out.”
“It’s been empty in the studio without you, and I fear I might have reacted quite badly to your departure,” Anthony said awkwardly, thinking back to all of his employees’ nervous glances when he was in a bad mood again.
A small grin appeared on Spamton’s face. “Missed me, did you?”
Anthony glared at him, and for a moment he felt like he was back in his office again, bantering back and forth with his favourite businessman.
“Anyway,” he said pointedly. “I want to make it clear that the position you previously occupied in the studio is empty, and if you ever feel the need to return it will be waiting for you. I understand if you have no plans to ever work with me again, and if this is the last time I see you I wish you the very best in life.”
Spamton listened to his former boss’ speech with growing amusement, already having made his decision.
“Sure, I’ll come back,” he said.
“I am fully willing to compensate you for all of the damage I’ve done. If you want to distance yourself from me I completely- Pardon me, what did you say?” Anthony stopped talking, and the silence was louder than ever.
“I said,” Spamton annunciated clearly. “I’ll come back, if you’ll have me.”
Anthony was dumbstruck. Once again, Spamton had silenced him. He blinked a few times, trying to make sure he wasn’t dreaming.
He exhaled shakily. “I erm- I had a whole talk planned to try and win you over, but I guess that isn’t necessary now?”
“Guess you could say I rendered you speechless,” Spamton mused, a wide grin on his face.
Anthony laughed. It was a laugh of relief, and one of happiness. A laugh of disbelief, of surprise. He stood up, unable to contain his amazement.
“Do we have a deal?” he asked while sticking out his hand.
Spamton shook it gladly, holding on for a bit longer than necessary.
“Well!” Anthony exclaimed, quickly letting go of Spamton while his cheeks tinted pink. “That’s settled, then! I will leave you to get ready, and then perhaps we can go back to the studio together?”
Spamton looked down at his dirty hands and decided that he definitely needed a shower. He plucked at his turtleneck, some loose threads unravelling from the side.
“Your clothes are in the closet, they hadn’t thrown them away yet,” Anthony said, noticing Spamton’s unease.
“Thanks, Ant,” Spamton said earnestly, looking back up. “I mean, uh, for everything.”
Anthony smiled warmly. “You’re welcome, I think I’m the one who should thank you instead, though.”
“Yeah, right,” Spamton scoffed. “You’re a madman, Ant.”
“Absolutely.”
Spamton shook his head. “Unbelievable. Well, if you don’t mind, I’m gonna do something about this horrific outfit. I’ll be ready in like ten minutes tops.”
Anthony nodded. “I’ll wait for you by the car, don’t forget anything!”
He opened to door, and just as he was about to leave, Spamton said something.
“Oh and Ant? I missed you too.”
Anthony looked back, heart jumping up in his chest. Spamton looked a little embarrassed to have said something so honest and sincere.
“I’m not saying it again. Now shoo!”
Anthony closed the door, grinning ear to ear. Maybe paying someone you hate a frankly unwise amount of money wasn’t so bad if got your business partner to admit he missed you.