Chapter Text
It’s been a week since Rody’s been away. La Guelue de Saturne’s most diligent worker missing yet another shift. “Again?” Vince muttered to himself. He’d changed the shift roster to accommodate his absence for at least a week, but at some point he’d need to cut him off. He’d dreaded making this house call for a while now, but after a bit of snooping, he knew just where to go to find his pathetic waiter. The question was whether he had the heart to do it. It was his fault after all. His fault that the last day of Rody’s first week at the bistro had been cut short by the unfortunate news that his ex-girlfriend had… past away. It seemed that Vince’s plans for Rody had fallen through… But, maybe if he made this house call, he could get him to come over? Get him alone? That would be the perfect time to do it, right? Show up looking concerned and invite him over. Yes, that’s the plan. Tonight, then. That’s perfect. And so it was, that after closing that night, Vincent would visit Rody’s apartment, with absolutely no ulterior motives.
Walk up. Check address. Check again. Check outfit. Check the paper that you wrote the address on to make sure it’s 100% accurate. Now, knock! Knock three times. Wait a few seconds. How many is enough? 10? 15? 30. 30 seconds pass. Knock again? More spaced out? Louder. Not obnoxiously loud. Check the address again, are you suuuure you got the right door?Vincent was greatly nervous as he waited impatiently for Rody to answer the door. He probably had some form of social anxiety. He probably knew this. This did not make him more calm. After a minute, he heard some sound of life from behind the door. A faint sob. Vince knocked again. Surely. Surely? “Hey, Rody? It’s, um, it’s me, Vincent. Are you...” He failed to find the right words. “Okay???” Obviously not, but what are you supposed to say? “I’m… I’m sorry for your loss?” That apparently. There was a clattering sound and the twang of a guitar hitting the ground, followed by some swearing in a voice that was definitely Rody’s. “Vince?” His voice was hoarse and sounded desperate, but that was certainly him alright.
“Rody, open the door...Please?”
“Oh, right. Shit.” Rody muttered, unlocking to door and opening it.
“Oh my fucking god. Are you severely depressed? Or are you always like this?” Could’ve phrased that better, but Vincent couldn’t help himself when met with the realization that this apartment, was in fact, an absolute shit storm. Way to go Rody.
“Oh, uh, sorry, I’m not very good at… cleaning…”
“Not good at cleaning’s one thing, when was the last time you washed that shirt?”
“Uh… last week? Last month? I don’t keep track.” Rody muttered, a little embarrassed.
“That’s horrible! You need to take better care of yourself.” Vince said. His words were genuine, but his tone was somewhat lacking by neurotypical standards. Luckily Rody was not neurotypical. Long story short, he didn't mention it.
“Right, right, but… that’s a bit hard when you’re as broke as I am.” Rody said, attempting to redeem his name. The realization hit Vincent harder than it should have, that his barely above minimum wage employee was struggling financially. “Shit. I see why you wanted a raise.” He muttered. Rody just laughed nervously and ran a hand through his messy hair. “Come in,” he said awkwardly, at last.
As both of them came to sit together on the couch, which also happened to be Rody’s bed, Vincent began to see why he thought money would fix his problems with Manon. This bitch really is broke af. He thought. Or would’ve thought if he wasn’t examining how grief had destroyed Rody physically. His hair was a mess and it looked like he hadn't shaved in way too long. “So, um… you came here to fire me, right?” Rody said, nervously. Vincent considered his options… but not for long because he’s a simp.
“No, of course not. I, er, understand your situation and am willing to give you some time to… recover, but-” he glanced away for a minute, trying to find an eloquent segway into the questions he so desperately wanted to ask. “So, consider this a wellbeing check.” He concluded. But quickly followed up with “And god knows you need it, when’s the last time you’ve slept? When’s the last time you’ve eaten?”
“Wow, Vincent, I-Thanks for bothering but you really didn’t have to, I’m fine. Really. I’m just a little… shaken.” Rody looked away from him, clearly embarrassed that he’d somewhat neglected himself.
“Rody, that’s obviously not the case. Answer me straight. Are you okay?” Vincent gave Rody the kind of death glare that you usually shouldn’t give to sad people for fear they start crying. Fortunately for Vince, Rody was fairly used to him by then. So he instead said in his kind of ‘okay, okay, sheesh,” manor, “Well… No, not really. I mean… I was struggling to live without her anyway. She was my anchor. My one and only. I just can’t understand how-” He paused, holding back tears.
“Rody… I-I’m sorry…” Vince was not good at comforting people either. But at least it was genuine. “She was always so nice to me… she took me cool places, she loved buying me clothes, she liked cooking, even though it always tasted a bit bitter to me, I could never tell her that.” He laughed softly, honestly a bit surprised that he could laugh this soon. “I… It feels too quick. Too sudden. I feel like I can’t move on.”
“Would… she want you to cry over her or would she want you to keep living happily?” Vince said in a slow, calm tone. Trying to act as if he cared.
“What?”
“Wouldn’t she want you to move on? To… keep on living as best as you can?” Vince said, but the only thought in his head was okay, how am I supposed to kill him now? When did I even decide that was a good idea? Screw that plan. New plan: try get with this man... I guess...
“Vince... Y… You know? You’re probably right. I… should try to pick myself up at least.” Rody sighed, the reality of the situation dawning on him. “Oh shit. I’m going to miss my next rent payment, aren’t I?” He jumps up and starts rummaging through a stack of papers on his table. “Shit. At least I’ve barely used to stove? That’s less on power bills, right?” He tries to do math under his breath. He failed. He was not good at math.
“Rody, if you need a place to stay,” Vince’s voice wavers at that part because he realised what he was about to offer, “you can always stay with me?” He phrased it as more of a question then it should’ve been. “I-I mean, I don’t have a guest bedroom, so you might still have to sleep on the couch, but… I wont charge you rent and I’ll make sure you don’t end up…” He gestured vaguely to the room at large.
“Y-YOU MEAN THAT?!” Rody said, louder than intended.
“Yes! Now, geez, will you cut it out with the whining?” Vince shrugged it off as if it didn’t mean a lot to him.
“Oh my gosh, I’m forever in your debt!”
“It means you can’t slack off work though, otherwise you’re sleeping in the streets.”
“Thank you so much. I’ll do my best, Vince!” Rody said as he saluted his boss.
“Okay, I get it. Start packing. You can move in tomorrow if your quick enough.”
“Got it!”