Chapter Text
They met at a party. Of course. It wasn’t that extraordinary for two entertainment giants to meet at a function. No one would suspect that Vincent had been orchestrating the encounter for months. Months to ensure that the circumstances were just right, that nothing would keep either of them away, that they would find themselves seated beside each other at the same table, that they would have plenty to talk about with Vincent having covered much of the same material as Alastor on his network.
Now they were actually here. Vincent was a mere couple of feet away from the radio star himself. He kept opening his mouth to strike up a conversation, and nothing came out. Vincent Whittman could schmooze the hottest businessmen in the industry with a smile, and yet now he sat inert, sneaking furtive glances between sips of champagne. Alastor the famous radio host was even more handsome in person, up close. Most people didn’t bother to research what he looked like, only knew him by his voice, but Vincent had an impressive collection of newspaper clippings on a corkboard in his penthouse. Not in a weird way. He just liked to know who he was dealing with.
It hadn’t softened the impact of meeting him in the flesh. It was like suddenly, all Vincent knew how to do was stare, hypnotized by everything about this man—how he carried himself, the smart way his glasses framed his face, the mirthful glimmer in his eyes. He was overcome by the urge to know Alastor. Say something. Come on, anything. He was sitting right there in front of him. Here was the opportunity he’d been gunning for these past months.
Vincent took a breath and set his flute down. “I don’t believe we’ve ever formally met.” He extended a hand. “My name is Vincent Whittman. No need to introduce yourself, ha, how could I not know who you are?”
Alastor shot him a grinning, sidelong glance before accepting the handshake. “Charmed.” He retracted his arm as soon as he could. Vincent only let the frown momentarily flicker across his face.
“You really set an example to us all. You’ve overcome so much to get to where you are now.”
“Oh? Like what, pray tell?”
“Oh, well, you know.” Vincent tapped the table idly. “It can’t have been easy to rise to your level as a colored man.”
Alastor stared at him with that great wide grin for a few seconds. Vincent started to wonder if he’d said something wrong. “Yes, well, it can’t have been easy for a man of your… preferences to rise to your level either.”
Vincent blanched. “What do you mean by that?”
“Oh, nothing, really. Just that your preferred medium, television, is quite new. I’m surprised at how it’s taken off in recent years.”
Right. Right, of course. Alastor couldn’t have known about that. Vincent had done everything in his power to suppress the rumors, which was to say, quite a lot.
“Oh.” Vincent laughed. “That. Well, what can I say? I’ve always been willing to embrace the unknown.” He leaned an arm on the table. “You know, I hate to get right into business, but I’d love to have you on the network sometime.”
“Oh?”
“Yes! As a guest star or maybe even something more…” Vincent drew a finger idly across the tablecloth. “…permanent. You’ve got an awful lot to offer.”
“Yes, I’m aware! But what exactly do you have to offer me, Mr. Whittman?”
Vincent scoffed. “Whatever you want! Name your price! I’ve got more money than I know what to do with. Not to mention, you’d gain exposure from an entirely new audience who doesn’t listen to radio.”
Alastor’s smile tightened. “Hmm.”
“I mean, don’t get me wrong, the two of us are already huge, but don’t you see we could be even bigger together?”
“Perhaps,” Alastor conceded. “Whatever your network has to offer, I doubt it’s worth the cost of associating with such a crass and lowly medium.”
Vincent’s eye twitched as he smiled. “I— What?”
“Surely you are aware? I don’t associate with all that newfangled television nonsense.” Alastor flapped his hand dismissively. “Where is the imagination? The skill of the narrator? I say it’s an insult to the craft of storytelling.”
Vincent gaped. In all of his fantasies, he’d never imagined Alastor to be as backwards as this. “But… television is the future. Alastor, you can’t be serious.” Vincent laughed. “If you don’t hop on my train, eventually, you’ll be left in the dust. Maybe not today, maybe not tomorrow, but within your lifetime for sure.”
“I suppose we’ll have to wait and see about that, won’t we? Now, if you’ll excuse me.” Alastor stood and pushed his chair back. “I’d quite like to step outside for some air. It’s so stuffy in here.”
Vincent watched him leave with narrowed eyes. Damn it. That hadn’t gone the way he rehearsed in his head at all. How was he going to fix this? He had such big plans for Alastor. He never would’ve dreamed he’d be turned down. Why would he? It was just plain stupid not to take the deal Vincent was offering.
No. Vincent had never let something like another person’s will get in his way before. He wouldn’t let it get in the way now. One way or another, radio was going down, and Alastor was too stubborn to see it right now. Vincent just needed to move things along a little faster, make it obvious how badly Alastor needed him. When the radio industry came crashing down, he’d have Al begging to be on his network.
He shifted his legs uncomfortably. His pants were suddenly a lot tighter. It was a good thing he was sitting down, his lower half obscured by ivory tablecloth.
Once he’d calmed down a bit, he rubbed elbows with some other businessmen, clinking glasses and flashing smiles the rest of the night. They were nobodies compared to Alastor. Small fish. They offered nothing that Vincent couldn’t forcibly take. They would live and die as a blip on the timeline. Nobody would remember their names. Vincent was going to live forever. Alastor would too, if he wasn’t fucking stupid.
When the television star got home, he made himself comfortable in his luxurious apartment and poured himself a nightcap. He lounged in front of his spacious window, leering out at the city below. His eyes were narrowed, calculating. In his mind, he started drawing up plans. Alastor thought he could survive on radio alone, what a sad little delusion. Vincent would just have to disabuse him, and next time, he wouldn’t be so unprepared.