#costomer relationship management | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

ackletze · 2 years ago

Text

[[Genoriisity]] Chapter 12

Rating: Teen

Relationship: Spamton & The Addisons

Warnings: None

Beta Reader: @is-cat

Ao3 Link: Here

“Hey, Banner, guess we finally found a store trashier than yours,” Frequency joked.

Neither Spamton nor Banner took the bait.

Frequency forced a laugh at his own joke, letting it trail off as Spamton turned to glare at him.

“U CAN [wait! there’s more!] OUTS1DE,” Spamton said.

“Hey, come on, I was kidding,” Frequency said, crossing his arms.

“YOU Won;T FIT INS1DE,” Spamton countered.

“I’m not going to let you just go off on your own and disappear somewhere again,” Banner said, finally speaking again. Spamton turned his glare from Frequency to Banner.

“I WON’T. I JUST need my PH0NE,” Spamton said stubbornly. “TH31R’S N0T [[EVEN]] A B4CKDOOR.”

Frequency snorted, trying to cover the laugh with a cough. Spamton knew that there wasn’t really a front door, either, just an old frame and door propped against piles of trash, but Frequency didn’t have to be a jerk about it.

“Banner’s got a point,” Frequency said, voice dripping with disdain as he admitted it. “You could just move some trash out of the way and be gone. I get- I totally understand why you’d want to do that, but with your health like it is-”

“I’D BE [[fine offerrings]] ON MY 0WN,” Spamton argued. “BUT I L3AVE. I JUST NE ED MY PH0NE.”

Frequency nodded. “Which I’ll help you carry. And pick up.”

“Just make sure he doesn’t fall again,” Banner said.

Spamton just continued to glare, before silently turning to enter the make-shift shop. Behind him, he could hear Frequency quickly trying to follow him inside. Spamton was right- it definitely wasn’t sized for him- but Frequency managed to squeeze in. Spamton didn’t bother to look to see what Banner was doing.

“This actually looks pretty cool,” Frequency said, looking around the cramped room. Spamton glanced back as he tried to squeeze back behind his counter to see Frequency, wide-eyed, staring at Spamton’s mural. Despite himself, Spamton felt a swell of pride.

“WELL Y0U KNOW, [[4D vishuals]] IS ALWAYS IMPORTANT FOR G0OD COSTOMER S3RVICE,” Spamton said.

“Do you get a lot of customers?” Frequency asked. It sounded like a genuine question, but it still soured Spamton’s momentarily good mood.

“N0,” Spamton said flatly.

“Oh, uh, sorry to hear that,” Frequency said, letting his voice trail off again. Spamton ignored him in favor of looking around his store for what to take. Most of his so-called goods could stay here- they were basically worthless without his expert salesman pitches. The only thing he really needed was his phone, which sat in its place of honor behind the counter.

Spamton carefully reached for the phone, delicately picking it up.

“Here, let me get it for you,” Frequency said, awkwardly reaching over the counter. Spamton didn’t want to give it up, but an ache from his leg reminded him of how precarious he was lately. But, it was Frequency who broke the phone originally, Spamton thought, still holding onto the phone tightly.

“N0,” Spamton said, making up his mind as he spoke. “YO U’LL just [break] IT AG4IN.”

Frequency rolled his eyes. “That was years ago,” he said, though he sounded more guilty than not. “You’ll just fall and drop it anyway if you don’t let me carry it. I promise I’ll be careful.”

Nervously, Spamton hugged the phone tighter to his chest as he thought. A voice in the back of his head was screaming at Spamton to not listen, to not trust Frequency. He remembered all the fights they had, all the petty disagreements that had led up to them not talking, and all the rest that came after that. But another part of Spamton wanted to trust him. He wanted to believe that his brothers- or most of them at least- really did care about him. That the past weekend hadn’t been some fluke or act or trick, but because they genuinely still cared about him. That there was a future between him and them.

Spamton held onto the phone.

Frequency’s face fell, but he didn’t argue anymore. In an awkward silence, he watched as Spamton carefully made his way back from behind the counter to the front of the store.

“Uh, let’s just go then,” Frequency said, opening the door for Spamton.

Spamton nodded, still clutching the phone to his chest as he walked out into the dump.

“Oh,” Banner said as a way of greeting when he saw the phone in Spamton’s arms. “You really still have it?”

Spamton nodded. “OBV1OSLY.”

Banner shook his head. “You know, Snippet said the thing doesn’t work. It’s probably been broken since Frequency threw a tantrum or whatever and broke it.”

“That’s not what happened,” Frequency complained, exiting the shop behind Spamton.

“H0W [[would you could you]] SN1P PET KN0W THat?” Spamton asked, defensively. Banner ignored him.

“God, to think that that entire time you were probably just as crazy as you are now and we didn’t realize it,” Banner said. His voice was almost mournful, but the words made Spamton cringe. “How could we have not seen it?”

“D0N’T T4LK ABO UT L1KE I’M N0T hear,” Spamton said.

“What do you want me to say, then?” Banner asked. To Spamton’s annoyance, he sounded utterly defeated. “You’ve been talking to yourself for what must be years now. You barely seem to know where you are. You can’t even talk anymore.”

“I D0N’T W4NT YOU TO SAY ANY TH1NG. I WaNT Y0U TO GO AW4Y,” Spamton said, gripping onto the phone even tighter. “I W4NT U ALL TO JUST [[leave]] ME AL0NE.”

“And what? Leave you to die here?” Banner said, gesturing toward Spamton’s shop.

“Banner, just shut up. We got what we came for, let’s just go,” Frequency said.

“I’M N0T GO1NG; TO DIE H3RE,” Spamton argued, resisting the urge to stamp his foot for emphasis. He wanted nothing more than to punch or kick a wall, but that would risk the phone. “B3SIDES, WOU LDN’T TH4T HAVE B3EN IDEAL four YOU?”

“What?” Banner asked. Even Frequency looked unnerved by the question and how matter-of-factly Spamton had said it.

“How could you even think that?” Banner asked, voice wavering.

“NO, IT W0ULD HAVE BE EN PR3FECT. ME DY1NG HERE, QUI 3TLY AND [[without cause]] ANYM0RE RISK OF ME HURTING YOU’RE BUSINESS,” Spamton said.

“Spam, come on, Banner’s an ass, but he doesn’t want you dead. Don’t say that,” Frequency said, eyes darting between his two brothers.

“I- I- What?” Banner said, for once at a total loss of words. Spamton felt a kind of glee at that, at finally being able to leave his brother speechless.

“JUST AMIT it,” Spamton half-dared, half-begged.

“Of course you come before the business, Spam,” Banner said desperately, voice quick and hoarse. “How could you even think-”

“SHUT UP SHUT UP SHUT UP,” Spam repeated, unable to stop himself. As he tried to quit, he could only watch as his brothers shared a look, obviously terrified he’d slip into another fit. Spamton balled his hands into fists and threw them to his side in anger. When he was finally able to speak again, Spamton spitted out, “YOU D0N’T C4RE AB0UT ME. IF U DID, YOU WO ULDN’T [[have]] F1RED ME IN THE [FIRST PLACE].”

Neither Banner nor Frequency spoke for a while, their eyes glued to the ground at Spamton’s feet. It wasn’t until Spamton realized he was staring at his empty hands that Spamton realized what they were staring at.

“Wait- you did what ?” Frequency asked, rounding on Banner, but Spamton couldn’t pay attention to what he was saying next. He could only stare at the broken remains of the phone lying on the hard ground.

“Hey, Big Shot!” Banner greeted, pushing one of the drinks in front of Spam as he spoke.

Spam winced at the nickname but didn’t complain as he took a sip of the drink. “Hi, Banner! You’re here early.”

Banner nodded. “I was excited for tonight. I have something to talk to you about.”

“Yeah? What are we working on this time?” Spam asked as he took a swig of his drink. “Or is this about the campaign for-”

Banner just shook his head. “I don’t want to talk about business,” he said.

Spam coughed, nearly choking on his drink in mock surprise. “What?”

Banner looked offended. “What? It can’t be that odd for someone to want to talk to their brother about something besides work. Even if they happen to work together.”

“Maybe for other people, but it is a bit odd for you. Skip will be thrilled,” Spam laughed, but the laugh died in his throat as he realized who he had just mentioned.

Banner seemed to share in Spam’s discomfort. “Forget about him,” he said. “And forget what he has to say about work, too, while you’re at it. He’d have happily spent the rest of his life working as a delivery driver. What does he know?”

To Spam’s surprise, there’s an undercurrent of annoyance in Banner’s voice. Even since Spam had stopped talking to their other brothers, Banner had refused to actively pick a side. It was relieving, to hear Banner finally seem to understand what Spam was going through.

“What do you want to talk about, then?” Spam asked.

“Well, that’s actually kind of it. I want to talk about our family,” Banner said. His voice was almost back to normal, but there was still something different about it, something wrong.

“I think I’m good,” Spam said in a joking voice, but he meant what he said.

“No, no, don’t be like that. I’m on your side!” Banner said. “Look, I know it’s been hard for you. But you really shouldn’t care so much!”

Spam blinked. That’s not what he had been expecting at all.

“They’re my family as much as yours, but come on,” Banner continued. “We can agree they’re being ridiculous.”

“I think so, but I’m surprised to hear you say it,” Spam admitted. It was music to his ears to have someone empathize with his side of things, but it was beyond weird to have Banner be the one to do it.

Banner just shook his head again. “I know, I know, I’m supposed to keep the peace and not pick a side. But, come on. They just all happen to have issues with you when you’re suddenly the successful one? It’s so transparent that they’re just jealous of you. No matter how much Snippet might try and make it into a moral thing.”

“I’m glad someone understands,” Spam said, biting back the urge to defend Snippet.

“I’d never tell him this, but you know, I actually lied to get my first advertising job,” Banner said. There was still that strange tone to his voice that made Spam pause.

“What? Really?” Spam asked. “You mean for that old magazine? You told us that you were offered the job after they heard your pitch.”

Banner shrugged. “I mean, I was. I had to lie to get them to hear the pitch, though.”

“Why?” Spam asked.

“It was back when you all were still in school. I was working all those God-awful jobs all the time and had shown up to interview for a janitor’s position. I was wearing Dad’s old suit and ended up running into some of the higher-ups when I was looking for the interview. It’s dumb in retrospect, but I just started talking. I made up some past jobs and clients, and it kind of just happened.” Banner shrugged. Spam was amazed, but Banner looked almost embarrassed. “I just knew I could be doing greater things and saw a chance.”

Spam wasn’t sure what to say. “I had no idea,” he settled on.

“I know,” Banner said with a slight smile. “Skip does, but I don’t think the others do, either. It’s not exactly something I brag about. I know they wouldn’t understand.”

“I do,” Spam said, without even thinking about it.

“But, yeah, I got off topic a bit, but I just want you to know that I support you completely,” Banner said. Spam smiled, but Banner was speaking again before he could reply. “And I wanted to make sure that you know that has nothing to do with this.”

Spam froze. He finally recognized what sounded so wrong in Banner’s voice. The man was nervous. It was an absurd thought, but Spam was suddenly positive it was true. A cold feeling suddenly flooded Spam’s veins.

“What?” Spam asked. “It has nothing to do with what?”

Banner didn’t answer, instead he said, “Do you have any idea how incredibly proud I am of you? To be your brother? I’ve always been proud of you, of course, but I'm just blown away by how successful you’ve become.”

Spam couldn’t help but relax a little at the praise, but his mind was still on alert. Something was wrong. “Thanks, Banner,” Spam said. “That means a lot to me.”

“I mean it,” Banner said. “To think about how far you’ve come, it’s just amazing. I just wanted to make sure you know that.”

Spam laughed, a bit awkwardly. “What’s going on, Banner? It almost sounds like you’re breaking up with me,” Spam said, though in his mind he added, or about to fire me . But that was absurd, Spam had been carrying the company for the past couple of months. He was the face of it now.

“Of course not,” Banner said. “I just want to talk to you about your future with the company.”

“Are you firing me?” Spam blurted out before he could stop himself.

“No! God, will you just calm down?” Banner said, keeping his voice low. “I’m not firing you. I just want to make sure you’re not holding yourself back.”

“What?” Spam asked, incredulous. “With what?”

“With us! With Skip, Frequency, Snippet, and me,” Banner said, his voice still quiet. “Like I said, you’re doing amazing. I just don’t think you need us anymore.”

“I don’t need you!” Spam agreed. “But I don’t think that means- what? What are you even asking me to do?”

“I’m just asking you to consider, for your own good, your future with the company,” Banner said. “Skip told me that you got invited to move into the Queen’s mansion.”

“So what?” Spam asked, not even bothering to wonder how Skip had managed to get ahold of that piece of gossip. “If I don’t live with you guys anymore, I can’t work with you guys, either?”

“No, but it does mean you’re individually being recognized. Which you should be! But that doesn’t bode well for-”

“You’re jealous of me?” Spam asked, laughing in disbelief. “You?”

“No,” Banner said. “If you’d just let me explain, I’m helping you. I don’t want you to be in a position where you’re trapped-”

“I cannot believe this,” Spam said. “Mike- Mike warned me that this would happen. Why didn’t I listen to him? He knew you’d do this.”

Banner finally showed some irritation at the mention of Mike. “I’m helping you, Spam, even if you won’t listen to reason.”

“You’re helping yourself, you mean,” Spam shot back. “You can’t stand the idea of me being more successful than you, right? After all I’ve done for the company, and now you show your true colors, huh?”

“Spam, listen to me,” Banner said, voice taking on an recognizable, authoritative tone that immediately made Spam shut up. “You’re doing great on your own. You’ll be fine. More than fine. But what won’t be fine is our business if none of its workers can even be in the same room with each other. If none of them will even talk to each other, much less work together.”

“You said you were on my side,” Spam said meekly.

“I am,” Banner said, firmly. “But I also have to be on our family’s side.”

“And the business’?” Spam asked, hating how petulant he sounded.

“Of course,” Banner said.

“So this is it then?” Spam asked. For a second, Spam wanted to do nothing more than to throw his glass into Banner’s obnoxiously calm face, but Spam resisted the urge.

“Spam,” Banner said. “At least half of our clients will gladly follow you. Who knows how many more you’ll get when you’re seen living and working at the Queen’s Mansion. This isn’t the death sentence you’re acting like it is.”

“But we’re through?” Spam asked.

Banner was silent for a second. “I hope not,” he finally said. “But it looks like you’ve already made that decision.”

Spam was up and leaving before Banner had even finished speaking.

#fanfic #[[Genorisity]]#frequency (oc)#banner (oc)#utdr #spamton utdr

4 notes · View notes