Chapter Text
“This was such a fucking bad idea!” Angel lamented to Husk. Angel was now on his fourth drink, and Husk pondered whether it was time to cut him off.
“You made a plan, Angel,” Husk reminded him calmly. “And Bella is still a royal ward, so she still has that protection magic on her. It's until she's twenty-one, right?”
“Yeah,” Angel said, gulping down the rest of the drink. He looked at his phone. Nothing yet. Maybe Angel would have to make the first move.
Bella herself wasn't sure why she had agreed to this in the first place. An outlet for teen rebellion? Auntie Charlie rubbing off on her? Although, even Auntie Charlie had been leery of Bella going to see Val...
Or a martyrdom complex, the teen thought, feeling rather annoyed with herself. She'd agreed to visit her bio-hazard of a bio-dad for one day a week for a year so that Val would leave the hotel alone.
Having had a sort of Montessori-style home-schooled upbringing (Hellborn schools sucked), Bella had never had a reason to hate Mondays...until now.
As soon as Val was at Bella's side, it really sunk in for her that this might not have been the best idea.
“Oh, bebe, do you need Tio Val's help to get you upstairs?”
Bella took a step back.
“I just turned fifteen. I don't need anyone to hold my hand. And there's an elevator.”
“I'm just worried about you, princesa,” Val said with that same sickly sweetness. “You looked so unsteady on your feet, so dizzy.” He pointed to the lobby's vending machine. “I can get you a soda.”
“I don't like soda,” Bella reminded him. She wouldn't drink anything he gave her, anyway. Mama had warned her about that. “I brought my own drinks and snacks, just thought you might like them.”
“You're so thoughtful to think of me, Bellita,” Val said as they went to the elevator. “I have some nice things for you, too.”
They were not Bella's idea of nice things. One was the new bed Val had put in Bella's old nursery. It looked like the bed from Sleeping Beauty (not one of Bella's favourite Disney movies, even when she was little) except with red silk curtains and blanket. In the nursery closet there were lots of clothes, none of them age-appropriate.
“Are you sure you want to stay in, tonight?” Val asked. “I know some good clubs-”
Bella did not want to go to a club with Val. She had been warned of what Val had done in clubs, both in Hell and in the Miami disco clubs of his living days.
“I'm really looking forward to seeing your awesome new TV from Uncle Vox, Papi!” Bella said quickly. “And I'd love to hear all your thoughts about the movie.”
That placated Val, and they went into the living room. Velvette happened to be there, but had shown no interest in Bella, as usual. Bella was still fine with Velvette being here. Velvette and Val seemed to be good friends, so maybe they would talk more to each other than to Bella.
There were two couches in here, one of which Bella recognized as an old-fashioned fainting couch.
“Papi got this just for you, Bellita,” Val said, touching the fainting couch's purple velvet headrest. “I'm sure all that walking tired you out, hurt your poor legs.”
Bella did not appreciate being treated like a delicate Victorian woman. Also, she could walk much better, now, to the point where she no longer needed braces.
“Ew, Papi,” Bella said, her antennae twitching at the fainting couch's stale, dusty smell. “Where did you get this thing? A Goetia garage sale?”
Now Velvette looked up from her phone and laughed. It was the first time Bella had ever heard Velvette laugh.
“Wish I'd thought of that one!” Velvette said. “Hey, Val, are you sure she's your kid? She's actually funny.”
Val scowled. He had, in fact, gotten the fainting couch from Prince Stolas. Val didn't know this, but the couch had once belonged to the prince's ex-wife Stella. Stella had made her servants put the fainting couch in the palace's attic after a toddler Octavia coughed an owl pellet onto it. The couch had stayed in the attic for decades, and well after the divorce. Finally, Stolas learned of the couch in the attic and decided to sell it online, not wanting any trace of his ex-wife.
The movie they watched was a dark version of Snow White, with an actress Bella despised. Clearly, Papi and Velvette didn't like her either, seemingly watching this movie just to make fun of the actress's appearance and a scandal attached to the movie. Bella hated the actress for different reasons, mainly her weird facial expressions and mouth-breathing.
Bella went to the bathroom for a long time, mostly to stare at the bathtub where she had been born, and very nearly died in, twice, once as a newborn and once at two months old. Mama had saved two-month-old Bella just in time, Papi having been distracted by his phone while trying to bathe Baby Bella (an attempt to one-up the mixing bowl Mama had used to bathe Bella).
Then, Bella went into her former nursery. She leaned against the closed door and noted that some of the webbing Mama had left on it was still here. That happened on the night Mama realized he had to get Bella away from this place. Maybe Bella had betrayed Mama by coming back.
Bella's phone vibrated, and she took it out. A text from Mama.
Bella and Mama had worked out a couple of systems. Bella's phone may not have been a Voxtek product, but there was still a risk of Vox hacking into it to see their texts. So they decided, if Bella needed to call Mama, to talk in Italian, as Vox hated all non-English languages, or Bella would text “giraffe” if she really needed help.
The text from Mama: R u ok
Bella texted back: Good so far. Movie almost over. C U soon.
Mama texted back emojis of a star and a bell. They avoided using heart emojis.
A knock at the door. Slowly, Bella opened it.
“Bellita,” Val said, “are you okay? You spent a lot of time in the bathroom. Is your tummy upset?”
Bella suppressed a groan. She didn't like the word tummy very much, only using it for pets.
“I'm fine, Papi,” Bella said flatly. She wanted to leave the nursery, now, but Val was in her way.
“Are you tired?” Val asked, getting closer than Bella would have liked. He gestured at the Sleeping Beauty bed. “You're welcome to stay the night, mija.”
“I have to get home, Papi,” Bella said in her most diplomatic voice. “I...promised Auntie Charlie I would help with something.”
“They have you working so hard at that hotel,” Val said as Bella let him take her hand (that seemed to be the only way she could finally get out of the nursery). “You're like Cinderella.”
Bella actually took that as a compliment. As a kid, she thought it was neat that Cinderella could talk to birds and mice and win their friendship.
As Val tried to say stuff about Mama and Auntie Charlie acting like wicked stepmothers, Bella got an idea.
“Papi, you know what I'd really like? A bean bag chair! I've heard so many cool things about the '70s and I'd love something from your glory days!”
That worked, thankfully, though Bella still didn't like the way Val smiled.
“Bellita, if you want a bean bag chair, Papito will get you a bean bag chair.”
“Gracias, Papi,” Bella said, and Val smirked.
Bella may have left, but Val was still satisfied. He really thought he could get the girl on his side, away from Angel at last. All teen girls fought with their mothers, right? That was Val's experience, when he found young “talent” in his living days.
Meanwhile, Bella (having gotten a ride home in Charlie's limo) now drank apple juice at the bar with Uncle Husk. Mama was not here, and Bella was glad. Not because she was angry at her mama, but because she was venting to Husk about the night she'd had, and Bella didn't want to upset Mama.
“You still gonna go back?” Uncle Husk asked neutrally.
“Yeah,” Bella said, finishing her apple juice. “One movie night down, fifty-one to go. And Val said he'd let me pick the movie next time.”