Chapter Text
Veneer had forgotten what wind felt like.
Mount Rageous Correctional Facility was underground, completely. A stronghold within the mountain itself, its inmates quite literally buried alive. That was how Veneer had lived for the past four years. His sentence should have been ten, which was his sister’s, but Veneer had several advantages that she had refused to take.
His admission to the crimes, and acceptance of a plea deal, had taken off two years. He got another year off for good behavior, which included finishing his GED while behind bars. No need for high school when you're a star, he and Velvet never even bothered with a personal tutor. Besides, homework gave him something to focus on besides… everything else about prison. The last three years had been dropped due to one simple trick.
Snitching.
Not particularly honorable, he knew. But being at the top of Mount Rageon society meant being privy to every dirty secret the rich and famous hid. Let’s just say there was a lot worse than Troll-napping and illegal pet monkeys going on in their circles. And if it got a few more bad people put away, and got him out a little earlier, was that so bad?
He inhaled, deeply. He’d missed fresh air. Sunlight, too. He’d have to appreciate it when the sun rose. His skin had gone from “stunning, luminescent Victorian” pale” to “Oh my god, I look like a corpse!” pale. And a lack of high-end makeup to balance out the washed-out tones certainly didn’t help. He’d managed to sort of make due with the cheap, drugstore caliber stuff in the Commissary, but it just wasn’t the same. He was half tempted to spend the entire $500 check of wages he’d gotten for wages from prison work, but he needed to pay for the bus. Before that, however, he needed to figure out where he was going.
He and Vel’s mansion had been foreclosed on, their yacht repossessed, and most of their assets seized to pay legal fees, evaded taxes, and reparations towards all parties harmed by their actions. If he remembered correctly, Floyd and his family had been given a hefty amount of cash, and Crimp had managed to get a couple hundred thousand bucks. Veneer inspected the map he’d taken from the kiosk next to the bus stop, pondering his potential destinations. As far as he could tell, he only had two options.
One? His parent’s house. He hadn’t heard from them since he and Velvet were rocketed into stardom, and his heart ached at the thought of seeing them again. But…
He was a criminal now, an ex-convict. He’d always done his best to make them proud, he was actually planning to go into the dentistry field himself before realizing how much he loved singing and dancing, but how could he be anything but a disappointment now? He didn’t want his poor mom and dad to have to deal with their felonious son on their doorstep, fresh out of prison and begging for a place to stay. No, they didn’t deserve that. Was $500 enough for an apartment down payment? He’d need to get a job at some point to pay rent, but he knew that people don’t drain talent from innocent Trolls when they have any actual skills. What would he even do? He’d never even washed dishes by himself! As he forced his body not to hyperventilate and pass out at a random bus stop, his phone rang.
Prisoners aren’t allowed to have phones, but this had been a gift, from a guard who’d been a big fan. He never used it, not wanting to risk getting caught, but he kept it, just in case. Flipping open the simple device, he answered the call.
“Hello?”
“Veneer? Is that you?”
“K- Kid Ritz!? ” Of all the people to contact him on his first day out, the host of Mount Rageous’s most popular talk show was the least expected. “How did you get this number?”
“I have contacts everywhere, but that’s not important. You’re out of jail, right?”
“Well, yeah. They just let me out like 2 hours ago.” Veneer heard a soft breath of relief.
“That’s good. Look, man, do you need a place to stay? That’s why I called, really.” Veneer squinted in confusion.
“So like, are you asking for an interview, or-?”
“No, just like, somewhere to crash. For the night, or however long you need.”
“For real?” Veneer’s eyes lit up. “Oh man, you are a lifesaver! Tell me your address!”
Like most Mount Rageons of celebrity or celebrity-adjacent fame, Kid Ritz lived in a gated community. The bus dropped him off at the front gates, leaving Veneer to figure out the access control pedestal. After finagling with the buttons for a couple minutes, he’d found Kid’s name and pressed the call button. After 30 seconds and a beep, the gate swung open to admit him. The gate was large, made to accommodate cars, not pedestrians. It made Veneer feel even weirder and more out of place than fresh out ex cons usually do. He missed having a car, he used to fit right into places like this. Now he felt tiny, lost, and adrift. He supposed that if spending years trapped in a tiny space, far away from happiness and anyone who really cared about him hadn’t done so already, this experience would have made him truly empathize with what he and Velvet had put poor Floyd through.
I hope he’s enjoying that reparations money , he thought, walking up Kid Ritz’s driveway. Hope he bought himself something nice, like a cute little Troll-sized yacht. Yachts are cool.
He rang the doorbell, rocking back and forth on his heels while he waited for someone to answer the door, feeling like a dejected puppy.
The door opened, revealing his host. He was still in his pajamas, sans his signature beanie, gradient blue-yellow hair tied up in a cute ponytail. It suited him strangely well. As soon as he took in the sight of the disgraced former pop star on his doorstep, he grinned from ear to ear.
“Veneer!” His heart sang. No one had said his name with that much joy in four years. “Glad you made it here, ok man. Was worried you might get lost.” Veneer blushed. God, Ritz really was cute in those PJs.
“It was no trouble. Real nice of you to have me.”
“Stay as long as you need to get back on your feet. Speaking of, the walk from the gate is really long, your feet must hurt a lot! Come, sit down. Lemme get you a drink or something.” Veneer giddily allowed himself to be grabbed by the hand and led into the house, and his heart skipped a beat when he realized that he and Ritz were technically holding hands.