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Everything in Spamton’s office was related to his personal achievements and his public persona. Old contracts which led him to fame, pictures of the most popular ADs, there was even a mirror he always used to properly fix his hair. Somehow, it still looked like it belonged to no one. A listless perfume always lingered in the air; even the lights were so cold it almost hurt. It was all about fame, success, stardom, popularity, appearance. He did all of that alone. They made fun of him, the shortest Addison, for believing in the possibility of becoming big. And he did. It was now time he proved everyone how much he had achieved. Spamton was sitting in his office, cigar in hand, looking at some papers distractedly when Tenna abruptly entered the room.
“Uh, Ant,” he looked right at the visibly worked up CRT, “it’s nice to see you too, but y’know, knocking would be appreciated.”
“Care to explain what this is?!” Tenna threw some documents on the Addison’s desk.
“Jeez, let’s see what got you so worked up,” he leaned on the desk, “...my future business plans? What about it? How did you even get your hands on that?”
“What about it, you say? Maybe it’s the fact that my name is not even there?”
“What about it?” Spamton repeated.
“I thought we were partners, Spamton! How could you betray me like that? What’s next, telling all our dirty secrets to everyone just to tarnish my name?” Tenna was even more restless now.
The Addison sighed, “You’re overreacting, Ant-”
“Stop calling me like that!” Tenna yelled, his fangs well visible, slamming his hand on the desk, almost breaking it. “You think you can do whatever you like with me. Yeah, you want me to crawl back to you because my ratings have been going down. Of course you do.”
Spamton stood up- he was calm. Their size difference was more evident than ever.
Tenna was grabbed by his tie by the other, forcing him to lean down.
“Maybe you should calm down, uh? This is business, Cathode. Not a friendship club. I don’t owe you anything as a business partner and our friendship is not involved in this stuff.”
“Friendship, of course!” Tenna violently pinned Spamton against the wall, completely blocking him with just one hand pressed on his stomach, “I almost forgot how narcissistic you truly are. Look at you, all full of yourself. You probably stare into your own reflection for hours. Hell, you probably think of yourself even when-!”
“[LET ME GO], you stupid [CATHODE],” Spamton protested, trying to break free. His strength wasn’t enough, though, “Stop treating me like some sort of [YOUR PUPPET] and let me go already! What’s gotten into you?! Stop pressing that [HAND SANITIZER THAT KILLS 99.9% OF BACTERIA] onto my stomach [DAMMIT!!!!]. You’re hurting me!”
Tenna suddenly let Spamton free- so suddenly he fell.
“I…hurt you?”
The air was tense. None of them spoke a word for a few seconds. The Addison was breathing heavily.
“Yeah, you bet you did! With that huge fucking hand of yours!” Spamton raised his voice, while the CRT kept shrinking out of shame and guilt.
“I-”
“Y’know what, I’ll go. You pissed me off.”
Without giving Tenna the chance to speak, Spamton shakily got up and left his own office.
While walking through Cyber City, Spamton kept thinking about what had just happened. His legs still hurt a little.
Maybe he should’ve talked about it with Tenna before taking any important decision.
Maybe it was time Spamton stopped toying with him.
But why, why did that damn CRT care so much?
Right when he got to his old apartment- the one he lived in before having his own room in Queen's castle, it started raining. He lit another cigar, since the last one was probably laying on his office’s floor. He sat on the couch, put a hand on his stomach, cigar in his mouth.
“Hmph. That stupid Cathode.”
There he was, thinking about Tenna again.
Spamton knew they were both using each other, that’s how it started. That’s how business was, after all. It was all about profit- even when the attention they gave each other couldn’t be any farther from their professional relationship.
It wasn’t even the first time Tenna showed this kind of behaviour so why, why did Spamton keep sticking around with him?
The truth was, Spamton cared, too. He truly did. He unfortunately did- painfully so.
The Addison stayed half asleep for some time, until he heard an annoying, metallic noise coming from right through the door.
The pouring rain dripped on Tenna's head causing a harsh, unpleasant sound. The kneeled CRT was whining and crying- incomprehensible words were whispered out of shame. His wet jacket and shirt seemed glued to his metallic body, while the yellow tie was hanging. His claws tore through the floor. Spamton looked at him with pity. His chest felt heavy, though. He wanted to ignore him, to leave him drown in his own weakness. Yet-
"God, you look pathetic, Cathode," the Addison glared at Tenna, "how long have you been here?"
The CRT lifted his head up, looking at Spamton as if he was God himself- cigar and all.
The Addison offered his small hand to help Tenna get up. The faint warm light from his apartment perfectly hugged Spamton's petite figure.
"Spamton, I..." Tenna cried, "forgive me, Spamton. I was stupid. I was selfish. I was angry. I was being unreasonable and- I! I will do better! Just...do not leave me, I'll be the best for you! You're going to be proud of your partner and, yeah! I'll keep getting better… and better, and better…! I'll be the best partner, no matter what. Please forgive me, Sp-"
"Tenna," a cold voice replied, "just come here and stop standing in the rain."
"Come...here..." the CRT repeated while finally reaching for Spamton's hand, his voice mixed with static. “Don't be so…so…cold…Spam…”
Tenna dropped on the floor with a loud thump.
"[BOOB TUBE]?!” Spamton yelled- his glitches getting worse, “Seriously, [WTF!!!!!]. Talk to me, [CATHODE]!”
His heart was beating fast while shaking the CRT’s body.
Now is not the time to be panicking. He's still functioning. He most likely got his circuits damaged in the rain. Ramb probably knows best what to do, but how the fuck am I supposed to bring him to Ramb? Shit, I'll just bring him inside.
He tried to pull him by his antennae, but that didn't seem wise. He tried to pull him by his head, but he realized he could do even more damage. He even tried to pull him by his arms which were so heavy he barely lasted a second.
It took Spamton half an hour to bring Tenna inside his apartment.
“What should I do…what should I do…[PUT IT IN RICE].”
Tenna was on the floor laying on his back, his screen fuzzy and distorted.
Spamton sat next to him with towels, screwdrivers and a flashlight. The only knowledge he had about Tenna’s anatomy were his sensitive spots, the ones he could mess with however he liked. That was useless now.
“[CATHODE], let's see if there's any damage on the outside that could've possibly led the water inside your circuits.”
He carefully checked his head while dabbing it with one of the towels. His movements were gentle, almost as if he were caressing the CRT.
“You stupid [BOOB TUBE],” Spamton said, the air was filled with electricity and TV noise, “now I'm the lame one. Look at me, getting all scared to lose you.”
He continued focusing on Tenna’s head for longer than necessary; he meticulously dried the CRT's antennae. He cupped one of the two with his small hands, slowly caressing it with his thumb right before leaving a gentle kiss on it. There was kindness and uprightness in that kiss, something he had never truly shown Tenna when they were together- he did show affection to the other usually, but always in a flirtatious, dionysian way.
The Addison kept analyzing his body until he reached Tenna's chest. Spamton thought it would be easier to sit astride Tenna to unbutton his shirt, so he did. That position was overly familiar to him.
Spamton shook his head.
He started unbuttoning the white shirt; the CRT’s robotic body was cold and, obviously, hard. His chest and abdomen were now exposed. Spamton's hands traced Tenna’s body up to his chest; the three buttons, the VHS slot and, finally, the panel which contained most of his sensitive wires. The Addison immediately realized something was wrong: the panel had been ripped open- possibly by Tenna’s own claws, the wires in its insides were tangled and, most importantly, they looked like they had been violently tugged.
“You stupid, stupid [CATHODE],” Spamton could not hide his worry, “you did this yourself, didn't you? Stupid, stupid [BOOB TUBE] acting like a [TEENAGERS SCARE THE LIVING SHIT OUT OF ME]. Harming yourself, seriously? [ASK FOR HELP AT THE SUICIDE HOTLINE XX-XXXX-XXXX].”
Spamton took another towel and dried the other’s chest before starting to check his wires.
“Okay, so…” he sighed, put the flashlight in his mouth and started by slowly untangling Tenna’s wires.
“You did all of this for someone like me? There’s tons of people who care about you, and you chose me to be the cause of all this?” Spamton kept muttering while still holding the flashlight in his mouth- his words, barely understandable, “that’s [STUPID].”
Some of the wires were unplugged.
Spamton worked for hours. The sound of rain echoed in the apartment while he kept untangling, drying, plugging. It was a mess. His hair was a mess, if only he could’ve seen himself, he’d be ashamed!
Spamton’s apartment was indeed different from his office after all. Not a single mirror in sight, nothing that would ever remind anyone of him. There, he was no one. Yet, there were times where he found comfort in being no one.
Ironic, isn’t it?
He fought to obtain all of that recognition, he loved being someone.
He loved being praised, adored.
However.
His own reflection was sometimes too much to bear.
After quite some time, Tenna’s screen stopped showing noise, and his hands rapidly twitched.
It took hours and hours for Spamton to finally feel relieved.
Right when he was about to get off Tenna, the Cathode spoke.
“U…ugh, Spammy…”
Spammy? Seriously?
The half-asleep CRT hugged him.
“So, so kind… Spammy is so kind…”
“I can't move, [CATHODE]! I told you a thousand times I don't like when you pin me like this!”
Liar.
“So…incredibly…kind…”
Tenna fell asleep, still laying on the floor, while holding him tight.
Spamton was stuck, his cheek pressed on the CRT's chest- that was the most uncomfortable position he's ever been in.
“You are a stupid, stupid Cathode.”
Those were the last words he said before falling asleep.
That day, two cigars had been thrown on the floor.
That day, two Darkners realized how much they cared for each other.
That day, Tenna almost damaged himself permanently out of fear of losing him.
That day, Spamton was frightened at the possibility of losing him.
The day after that day, Spamton would receive a phone call.