Chapter Text
Lucifer was never happy with simplicity.
Or rather, he had never considered living simply until that very moment.
Heavens, being discovered by Adam and threatened with exposure for liking men after his divorce from a sham marriage - which everyone thought had just been unsuccessful - when his wife came out as a lesbian, was certainly not part of his life plan!
Just imagine, having a knife to your throat after so many years of trying to hide it meticulously? He didn't know what was worse, being threatened or disinherited.
It wasn't a good time for people like him and Lilith, he knew that very well. He hoped that his possible informant would never find out that Eve, his beloved wife, had been having an affair with Lili since they met six years ago at an opulent and unnecessarily extravagant party, just like the one they were at now.
Well… not just like it.
Traditional elite parties had much milder drinks.
He looked at the bottom of his decorated glass with a drink that tasted more like alcohol than the oranges the bartender had promised. Not that he seemed very attentive to anything, except for a blond man at the end of the bar who was dressed very extravagantly and stole all his attention and sideways glances.
Lucifer knew Anthony's family by name, Italian immigrants involved with the mafia as far as he knew. He wondered whether he should go back to the bar and tell the bartender about it, but gave up, thinking it better to watch the movement rather than get involved.
The sight of Sera's back and Adam's hair made him down his drink, which proved to be a terrible choice as it went down his throat as if tearing it apart. Worry would drown him faster than any liquid ever could. Just thinking about being torn away from his family, losing his support, his daughter, his wife, and his dignity all at once, sent a terrible chill down his spine. Charlie worried him so much, so much that sometimes he felt that this worry could consume him. She was no longer a child, she would understand the situation, but Lucifer didn't want her to have that worry. All he ever wanted for his baby was a normal life, and he knew that was what his wife wanted too, which was perhaps why she had endured the marriage for so long in the first place.
A commotion began at the entrance, and he decided to dismiss his thoughts before he spiraled and started crying in a public place. Men don't cry, or whatever Adam would say to make him feel bad for having feelings. He moved away from the corner where was standing, putting on his best and most radiant smile and weaving through the crowd with the ease of a seamstress.
If the angels could see the scene from heaven, they would believe that one of them had been lost on earth. Lucifer's blond hair and white jacket contrasted with the immensity of blue and black suits and brown hair, like a fish swimming against the current of the school.
And if there really was someone watching from above, they would definitely fear for the life of that ethereal and lost being, because he was heading towards a demon wearing a dark red overcoat and a big, almost evil, smile on his face.
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Alastor knew that this party was not accustomed to people like him, coming from the lower classes and rising to wealth quickly and recently. His curly hair contrasted with the immensity of straight strands, his skin in a brown a shade with a warm undertone, his brown eyes briefly speckled with red against the light of the imposing and crowded hall. He made sure that everyone he passed recognized his imposing presence, with his shoulders slightly back and a big smile that his mother had taught him to wear since childhood.
“— Always smile, my dear, a smile is the most powerful weapon against the indifference of this world.”
His rapid rise within the hierarchy of radio programs made this task quite simple. Alastor had many reasons to smile these days. Some listeners of his radio program and more friendly people came up to him, and he treated everyone cordially, shaking hands firmly even though the touch of skin on skin made him nauseous and he discreetly wiped his hand on the fabric of his shirt. Although he didn't care about formalities - after all, he had gotten where he was entirely on his own - he knew that these impressions were important, so he tried to make the sacrifice once, for the sake of a network and contacts that could be useful.
After all, what kind of host would he be if he were rude to his own guests?
Honestly, hosting that party with Rosie had been one of his dear friend's many brilliant ideas. Alasor would buy her flowers to thank her the next time they met for coffee.
For now, he let the weight of attention fall on him, and convinced himself that when the night was over, everyone would be as willing to smile as he was. The radio host looked around, searching for someone else to charm when his eyes stopped on a short figure who stood out in the crowd because of the color of his suit and an apple brooch pinned to his bow tie. Blond, with blue eyes that looked like the ones made for dolls and a permanent blush on his pale face. Alastor tilted his head slightly, wondering if he already knew the man, but wasn't sure.
But if he didn't recognize him, doubted they had ever crossed paths.
He would surely remember a face so...
Pathetic.
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Lucifer stared at the tall, dark-skinned man coming toward him with a smile that he could see was forced. His curls and skin glistened in the light of the room, his round, perfectly clean glasses held in place by small chains with black beads on his face. His nose and chest were raised, and he had an arrogant expression.
— Good evening. May I ask the reason for the enchanted stare, sir? — His voice was energetic and marked by an accent that was definitely not from the city.
Lucifer couldn't really say that the voice wasn't striking in its own way. He would even say it was pleasant, if it weren't for that soft tone of sarcasm that leaked like poison from the corners of that smile full of too-perfect teeth.
“I wasn't staring, much less staring enchanted!” That's what Lucifer wanted to say, but instead he took a breath, smiling as forced and falsely friendly as the stranger.
— I was just trying to understand the reason for the commotion, — he replied, shrugging. — I don't believe I've ever seen you around town or around here. My name is Lucifer Morningstar, and who might you be? — He saw a glimmer of recognition pass through the stranger's brown eyes and his lips tighten into an even bigger smile, if that was possible.
— Alastor, sir! It's a pleasure to meet you, quite a pleasure. I've heard a lot about you, about your family. I can assure you it was very welcome entertainment for my first month in town. — The blond man heard himself laugh without humor.
— I'm sure whatever you heard isn't true.
— Oh, I'm sure something was exaggerated, no doubt. Although I'm sure it was partly my fault. I confess my expectations were a little higher. — Morningstar wrinkled his nose at the implication of that sentence.
Complete idiot.
— And what are you and your tacky overcoat doing here? — The stranger's open smile seemed to tighten a little, suddenly uncomfortable.
— I'm hosting the party with a friend, Mr. Morningstar.
— I didn't know Rosie had such poorly dressed friends.
— And I had no idea my party would be so poorly attended. — the dark-haired man retorted, drumming his fingers on his leg. — If you don't mind, I have to find other people before my evening becomes unpleasant. Enjoy the party, sir.
And he left, leaving Lucifer there to deal with the fact that his host was tall, influential, and definitely very, very arrogant.
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