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Alphonse sat on the couch, heel propped up on his coffee table. Like most of the furniture in his house, he didn’t really know why he had it. It was an overly expensive table, glass topped instead of wood, cost more than made sense, and really only existed because he’d been told it should be there. Its top was stained from spilled drinks and boot tread, the glass had chips out of it from when various objects had crashed into it. Sometimes Alfie was amazed the thing hadn’t gotten shattered already.
On his thigh sat his phone, also more expensive than it needed to be, but he understood why he had that. The reason was currently sitting on its screen, the small number six next to the phrase “missed calls and voice mail.”
In the twenty four hours since Alfie’s little… incident on the court, things at the Norwich home had been tense. No one knew what to say or how to say it, so they simply didn’t. Every rat in the house recognized the stiffness in their brother’s gait, the way his jaw muscles fluttered and flexed at the sides of his face. Alphonse was a land mine, and no one wanted to be the one to set him off.
“Alfie, will ya just answer ya damn phone?”
The big rat’s head whipped to the side to see who it was, and began his tirade before identifying them.
“Oi, fuck off ’n mind y…”
He stopped mid-sentence.
“…Sorry, mum.”
Alphonse winced and rubbed at the side of his head after his mother smacked it, chiding him. “Don’t talk to ya mum like ‘at! Pick up ya phone an’ call ‘at weasel… raccoon… whateva ‘e is, call ‘at agent o’ yours back.”
The haggard rodent’s whole face scrunched up in the kind of sulk that only his mother could get out of him.
“An’ ‘ow d’ya know ‘e’s been th’ one callin’ me, eh? Y’ been lookin’ in me phone?”
Charlotte rolled her eyes. “Oh give i’ a rest, Alfie. If it ain’t ‘im is Mizz Muri, an’ if it was ‘er ya’d ‘ave called back by now. What ya gonna do, eh? Jus’ ‘ide an’ ‘ope if ya don’t talk about it it’ll all go ‘way? Ya know when ya fatha made a mistake ‘e didn’t just sit ‘round th’ house like a stump. ‘E would stand up on ‘is own two paws an’ make it right!”
Charlotte’s boy crossed his arms and sunk back into his seat the way he always did when he knew she was right. Being in a more chipper mood thanks to her own turn of good fortune as of late turned the matriarch of the family into more of the mother they had known years ago. She was back to helping in the kitchen, dealing with the young ones, and disciplining Alfie when need be.
She snapped her fingers. “C’mon then, pick up ya blowa. Longa ya wait th’ worse mood ‘e’s gonna be in, eh? Call ‘im back an’ be on ya best be’aviour!”
Alfie resented his mother’s tone, like he was a naughty schoolchild, but he knew she was right. He just didn’t want her to know that he knew she was right. Still, he picked the phone off of his thigh with as much reluctance and hesitation as he could muster. He looked at the list of messages in the inbox, and had a feeling he knew what each of them would be saying, even if not every single one was from his agent. So he simply tapped the tiny name beside one of them and let it dial.
Normally, Sedrick LaTour let the phone ring a few times before he answered. Alfie didn’t know for sure, but it felt like he did it on purpose. This time, he picked up instantly.
“Hello.”
Alfie paused. He expected something more than that. “…Oi, Sedri… Mista LaTour, er… sorry I ain’t be-“
“Yes, that’s wonderful that you’re sorry, but thank you for picking up. I need you to meet me tomorrow at Sarento’s for lunch. Twelve noon, and that is on. The. Dot. Do you understand?”
“Sarento’s?” the rat repeated. He’d heard of the place but had never been. It was an upscale establishment, the kind that he always felt his type weren’t allowed.
“Yes, Mr Norwich, Sarento’s. I have a reservation. I’d ask you to wear something presentable but we both know you indeed will not, so just be there on time.”
“Mista LaTour, jus’ le…” Alfie drifted off, then pulled the phone away from his face to look at the screen, back to showing its icons. He groaned quietly, mouth still closed.
To his side, his mother stood with her hands on her hips. “Well?”
Alphonse glanced back at her. “Meetin’ tomorrow.”
She nodded firmly. “Okay. Well, dress ya best, this is important.”
“Yeh mum. Thanks.”
———————————————
Sorento’s was even fancier on the inside than it looked on the outside. The broad dining room had tables with folded napkins on them in intricate shapes and different animals, there was music being played live from a large piano off on the left side of the room. Dressed in a pair of slacks and a vest with a white dress shirt underneath, Alfie felt eyes on him. He didn’t like the big jackets, they felt awkward on his arms, but at least he was dressed up, wasn’t that enough?
“You’re late.”
Alfie’s brow furrowed as he approached the table, his agent sitting casually with a cocktail at his side still mostly full. He reached into his pocket and pulled out his phone, turning the screen on to check the time. Punctuality was not a word anyone would ever use to describe Alphonse Norwich IV, of course. It wasn’t that he’d show up hours late to practice or games, but the general rule was that if he had to be anywhere at a given time, he’d show up within about ten minutes, just because he could. This time, though, he’d really tried to make it by noon, and his phone confirmed it. Twelve o’clock, twelve zero zero.
“Oi, but… s’noon like ya said.”
Sedrick glanced up at him. “Yes, but it is noon now, which means that you arrived after the stroke of twelve, ergo you are late. I suppose I should be grateful your pants don’t have holes in them, so perhaps I’ll count my blessings rather than quibbling over the details. I was initially going to tell you to be here at nine, however Murina informed me that asking Alphonse Norwich to be anywhere with an AM in the time might as well be asking you to meet me on Mars, so just have a seat.”
Alfie pulled the chair out and sat down, crossing his arms, which strained the fabric of his sleeves. It was a custom shirt, but the tailor hadn’t quite given him enough space for full movement. He sat in silence, waiting for Sedrick LaTour to finish taking a slow sip of his drink.
The coati took a breath through his large nose. “I cannot even tell you the last time I had a good mai tai,” he said, his voice almost dreamy though his face was expressionless. “You really do need the right rum for it, and fresh ingredients. You just can’t get something like this back in Massachusetts. Thank you, by the way,” he said lifting the drink toward Alfie.
“Er… ya welcome,” Alphonse grunted, not aware of his generosity until just then.
“Yes, I am welcome. I suppose now it’s time we have a small discussion, isn’t it.”
Alfie swallowed once. He’d been getting ready for this. LaTour had warned him before, he remembered it as clear as the day he’d said it. He wasn’t Muri, he wasn’t going to allow the kind of disasters that the black rat had put up with. Truth be told, the reason he hadn’t called LaTour back was that he was giving himself at least a few more hours of having an agent. Of being in the league. The media was saying he would be out for the season, and with his contract up at the end of the year, that meant Alphonse had played his last game. He was braced for impact, but had done his best to kick the can down the road as long as he could.
“I’m sure you’ve guessed by now that I’ve had a little talk with our friend Wilmer Grehr, and by the way you will be having a quick talk with him as well,” the coati said pointedly. “I don’t think you quite realize the severity of the situation, Mr Big Bad Alley Rat. I’m sure back in Toxteth knocking someone out with a headbutt i-“
“Oi, I din’t knock ‘im out!”
Sedrick put a hand up. “THAT, my friend, may be a fine way to sort out your problems, like you’re just using your forehead as a period on the end of a sentence, but over here in civilization we do things a little differently and if you plan on being a part OF civilization then I would heavily suggest you start learning to use your head in something other than the literal sense.”
Alphonse paused, confused. “What ya sayin’?”
Taking a deep breath, Sedrick let his eyes close briefly, his patience clearly not the sturdiest at the moment. “What I am saying, Alphonse, is that the amount of jiu jitsu I had to do to help the only general manager in the league that wouldn’t have already bought your contract out and written it off as a medical expense come up with an arrangement not to have you suspended for the remainder of the year should qualify me for an award of some kind and we’re going to be talking about your end of the deal. Mr Grehr has been on eggshells that are so thin only the ones you’re trodding on can rival them, and it took me the better part of an afternoon to help come up with an arrangement.”
It took a few seconds for the reality of the situation to sink in. He wasn’t out? The team was keeping him? Wilmer was… well, okay, Wilmer was likely ready to wring his neck, but at least he’d be getting his neck wrung with a Kahunas jersey on, right? Right? He shook his head lightly to get the cobwebs out and looked back at Sedrick.
“Close your mouth for god’s sakes, Alfie, you’re looking at me like I just told you I’m pregnant,” the longtail snorted, waving over a nearby server. “Yes, my friend here would like a…” he began, then gestured at Alfie to let him finish the sentence.
“Er, jus’ a pint, eh?”
The waiter, a slender rabbit with short ears that looked like they wouldn’t go down if you force them, paused. “Um, sir? A pint of…?”
Sedrick sighed again. “Get him an old fashioned. Top shelf everything.”
As the lapine walked away, scratching his head, Sedrick LaTour glanced at his client. “Hey, good call on the drink. It’s nice to treat yourself now and again.”
Alfie rubbed at his face. “Wait, so… ya sayin’…”
“Again with the ya sayin’…” Sedrick laughed dryly. “No, Alfie. You’re not being thrown out on your tail, you can tell all your little brothers, sisters, nieces, nephews and any of your own progeny that Big Brother still gets to play bouncy ball and as long as he behaves extra special super nice and Uncle Sedrick manages to stamp out the flames, he’ll still be playing next year.”
The rat’s brow furrowed. None of this made sense. Sedrick had been so insistent that he wouldn’t stand for any more screw ups. Not one more incident. Alfie the old Biter Boy had to die. Now here he was explaining how he’d be helping keep Alfie in the league?
“…Why?”
“Why what, Alphonse?”
“Uh… why ain’t I out on me arse? Ya was sayin’ b’fore ‘ow…”
As he so often did, Sedrick cut Alfie off. “If you’d prefer I can make a few phone calls and make all of our lives easier by having you shipped Priority Mail back to England and then Hawaii can just take a mulligan on this year and hope come the draft this year no one minds that they’re getting pulled onto the team with the idiot who didn’t think organ failure was important enough to mention and the other idiot who thought the crowd would cheer braining a referee live on court. I swear, Alfie, if that’s how you act during a game I don’t even want to know what sort of lunacy you got into when there weren’t cameras.”
The comment cut harder than LaTour knew, but he continued. “So, per the agreement as it stands, you will be getting a fifteen game suspension and, amazingly, you will not be charged with assault. However that doesn’t mean you get to just toddle on back to your house and relax for a few weeks.”
Alfie wanted to be mad. He did. Deep in his brain was still the Alphonse that would say it wasn’t such a big deal, that it wasn’t his fault the stupid oryx had such a soft head, that it was just a little bump and no one got hurt so why did it matter? That he should be lucky Alfie was so gentle, he could have cracked his skull in two. But he knew better, now. Nearly two seasons in the league had, finally, taught him a few things about living in the world outside the Alley. Civilization, as Sedrick put it. As much as he wanted to protest and say he should just be let back on the court as long as he promised not to do it again, he knew that wasn’t an option.
The burly rodent took his drink as it came past and sipped from it, pulling a face at first. He didn’t know what an “old fashioned” was, so the combination of whiskey and bitters landed on his tongue oddly, but once he let it swirl in his mouth, it wasn’t that bad. He set the glass down on a napkin and looked at his agent.
“So what now, eh? Th’ fuck ‘m I gonna do?”
“Oh, you misunderstand me, my Fancy Rat Friend,” Sedrick said with another humorless laugh. “This isn’t a discussion about what you’re going to do, this is about what you already did.”
Now Alphonse was even more confused. They’d already talked about what he did, he knew what he did. The world saw what he did. Why did Sedrick want to keep the discussion on that?
The coati continued. “Specifically, that you sent a letter of apology directly to Syed Nahle and his family. It was very touching and heartfelt, and you even offered to cover all of his medical expenses should any come up. I liked that touch, it showed actual sympathy for the pain you caused, even if I doubt you would have offered if he’d actually been hurt. You have also agreed to take anger management with a counselor appointed by the league. In a fantastic showing of penitence, you submitted a statement to the press that will be out on the wire tomorrow morning in which you express deep remorse for everything you did and the shame you brought upon not only yourself, but also the team, the league, and species relations. You made sure to point out that this was not an act of specism, despite what the rumor mills are saying and that you will be donating a small chunk of money to a pro-diversity group. Sure, it’s not a lot and it’s mostly symbolic, but it’s something and I’m sure they’ll appreciate it. You did, however, state that you will not be doing an in person press conference because you don’t wish to be sandbagged as you had been less than a year ago. And finally… let me see your phone for a moment.”
“…Eh?” Alfie replied, flummoxed. He was still wading through the shallow end of what Sedrick had just dumped him in, not in the deeper waters yet.
Sedrick waved toward himself. “Your phone. Let me see it.”
The rat pulled his phone out of his pocket once more and slid it across the table. Sedrick tapped at the screen a bit, began tapping furiously with both of his thumbs, and then slid it back.
“…And finally, you made an apology via Twitter to all of your fans for letting them down. All in all, Mr Norwich, I would say you have been doing everything that could have been expected of you and then some. It’s all very admirable, well done.”
Piece by piece, realization sunk into Alphonse’s head. “Wait, fuckin’… anga management?? Like, with a head docta?”
Taking a casual sip of his own cocktail, Sedrick bobbed his head side to side. “If you’d like to put it that way, yes. Of course, if that’s all too much to bear, if Alphonse Norwich IV is too proud to talk to a counselor, and yes you will be talking, then we can go to plan B, which involves a stack of plane tickets and a lot of questions from your little siblings. I just wanted to tell you in person, and give myself a little bit of beach time. Lord knows I could use it.”
“…Wait, ‘ang on!” the rat blurted out loudly enough that it made a few of the other patrons turn their heads.
Sedrick Latour sighed, pressing a finger just above his left eyebrow and rubbing at it. “Yes, Mr Norwich? If the next words out of your mouth aren’t some version of ‘thank you’ and/or ‘let me pay for the rest of your trip’ then I don’t want to hear it.”
Alfie considered those next words of his very carefully. “Why ya doin’ all ‘is?”
Now it was Sedrick’s turn to look surprised. “Excuse me?”
Alphonse’s face was a sea of confusion, naked honesty cutting through it more than the usual abrasiveness and anger could. “Ya said ya wasn’t gonna, if I cocked it up again I’s out. Ev’ryone’s always sayin’ ‘ow Sedrick don’t do no favors.”
Sedrick paused and took in another measured breath, eyes upwards while he mapped his own sentence out. “Yes, I did. I wanted you to understand the severity of the situation, but it appears I did not do a good enough job. Perhaps now you will. I am, at the end of the day, your agent, so that means doing what’s best for you and by extension me. I will not be the one who takes Alphonse Norwich IV from Murina Beaubonique, after she put herself in the hospital trying to turn a grimy Alley Rat into a professional, and within a few months lets him self immolate.”
The rat’s eyes narrowed, looking at his agent as the ringtail stood. Things were sliding closer to into place, but weren’t quite there yet. Sedrick coming out of nowhere with an offer, Muri telling him to take it, saying she was still his friend. The coati not just letting him drop like a hot pan.
Click.
“Fuck me,” the rat chuckled, only the faintest of grin on his face as he did so.
“I’d prefer not to, thank you,” Sedrick said back. “But might I inquire as to why you suddenly offered?”
Alfie glanced at his agent. “You promised ya wouldn’t.”
Sedrick’s face went taut. “Pardon me?”
Alfie started to grin wider. He felt almost as pleased with himself for figuring it out as he was with what this little revelation meant for him. “Ya promised Muri ya wouldn’t. Fuckin’ ‘ell I shoulda seen it,” he half-muttered, thinking out loud as much as talking to the coati in front of him. “Ya tell me… ya shaggin’ ‘er?” he asked, grinning ear to ear.
“Now you listen to me, and you listen to me VERY closely,” Sedrick responded, voice sharp. He stepped over to Alphonse’s side of the table and pressed a fingertip to the cloth.
“Whatever you think you just figured out, you get it out of that thick skull and wipe that stupid smirk off of your face. I may be giving you more leeway than I normally do, and that may be thanks to external factors, but I do have my limits and if you would like to be the one to call up Muri and let her know that you thought she was sleeping with me, then your phone is right there. Go ahead. Pick it up.”
A beat passed, with Alphonse and Sedrick’s eyes locked on one another. The big rat remained stationary.
“…I didn’t think so. Now if you want to take this minor epiphany of yours like it means you have carte blanch to go around bloodying up anyone that looks at you sideways, point those ripped up ears this way. If I give you this extra consideration, it means that my ass is as much on the line as is yours. I am now aboard the S.S. Alfie and if you go headbutting an iceberg then I’m going down with the ship and I will be damned if I let that happen. I have worked far too long in this industry to let some rat with a dyed mohawk take me down, do you understand me?”
Alfie did his best to keep his face serious, but it was a fight. “Aye, I’m with ya.”
Sedrick nodded, straightening his jacket out once more and trying to recompose himself. “Good. You’ll be getting a call from your new doctor in short order. I will be getting periodic updates. And Alfie…”
The coati waited until he knew the rat was paying attention. “I do not have time to make these trips more than once or twice a year, and only then so I can slip into my shorts and get some sunlight on my fur. If you test me, if I even get the faintest inclination that you are jerking me around and expecting me to clean up your whoopsies like Muri did, it’s over. That is not a hollow threat. My tolerance level is much lower than your previous agent’s.”
Sedrick took a breath. “Now then. Thank you for the drinks. I will be in Honolulu for the next three days. Despite your suspension, YOU will be following your team to Newark for the road games. This is not a vacation, you are still on the team and that means you still are to be present at games. On your best… behavior.”
With that, Sedrick LaTour walked out of Sorento’s.
Alfie looked down at his drink, picking it up and taking another sip of it. Now that he knew what he was expecting, it was actually pretty good. Anger management… Alfie in therapy like some crazy person. He knew that look in Sedrick’s eyes. Muri used to give him that. The glare of an agent fighting to keep control of a situation. Control of him. Alphonse Norwich IV. Passed from agent to agent, but not thrown out. Even after he cracked a ref’s skull. Just a bit of a tongue lashing and a couple weeks of anger management. He could do that. Put on a smile and say whatever the doc wanted to hear. Was he angry? Of course he was angry. But he had a damn good reason to be.
Alphonse ordered another old fashioned. He needed it.
——————————
Sedrick threw the door open of his hotel room, throwing his bag down on the bed. Though not a penthouse suite, it still had plenty of amenities, like a little apartment more than a hotel, really. He asked for a corner room, knowing they were a little bigger than the hallway rooms. His rental car, a luxury model of course.
In truth, the room barely looked different than his own home. It was utilitarian, but just modern enough to avoid feeling sterile. An L couch against the wall, big screen television and bay windows that eliminated the need for lights during the day. Not much by way of decorations.
Sedrick LaTour sat down at the desk the hotel provided, on an office chair comfortable enough he pondered checking to see about getting one of his own for his office in Boston. He pulled his laptop out of a second bag on the floor and flicked it open, sifting through spreadsheets as they came up. The season was coming to an end, and it meant starting to look at rookies, see who was a draft bust, see who was exceeding expectations. Who might be ready to jump up to prime time.
The professional sports world moved fast, and as much as he would have liked to throw on his shorts and stretch out on the beach for a few hours, there was work to do. Dealing with Alphonse had sapped precious hours, to say nothing of the agonizing flight with WiFi not working properly. He was behind and playing catch up. As the sun began to set over Honolulu, Sedrick LaTour’s list of prospects began to congeal. He’d have a few phone calls to make in the morning.
He just prayed that Alphonse wasn’t ruining his clout.
Alphonse has to answer for what he's done. Though it may not be as severe as it could have been, that doesn't mean he's getting off scot free.
And to see what happened with those phone calls Sedrick made, go check out
arterian21's story here: http://www.furaffinity.net/view/16019477/
From the Alley to the Big City is a creative collaboration between shanerufus and pac set in the FBA universe.
for a complete list of art, stories, audio and more, please view the project index or visit the official FAtBC website!
Alphonse sat on the couch, heel propped up on his coffee table. Like most of the furniture in his house, he didn’t really know why he had it. It was an overly expensive table, glass topped instead of wood, cost more than made sense, and really only existed because he’d been told it should be there. Its top was stained from spilled drinks and boot tread, the glass had chips out of it from when various objects had crashed into it. Sometimes Alfie was amazed the thing hadn’t gotten shattered already.
On his thigh sat his phone, also more expensive than it needed to be, but he understood why he had that. The reason was currently sitting on its screen, the small number six next to the phrase “missed calls and voice mail.”
In the twenty four hours since Alfie’s little… incident on the court, things at the Norwich home had been tense. No one knew what to say or how to say it, so they simply didn’t. Every rat in the house recognized the stiffness in their brother’s gait, the way his jaw muscles fluttered and flexed at the sides of his face. Alphonse was a land mine, and no one wanted to be the one to set him off.
“Alfie, will ya just answer ya damn phone?”
The big rat’s head whipped to the side to see who it was, and began his tirade before identifying them.
“Oi, fuck off ’n mind y…”
He stopped mid-sentence.
“…Sorry, mum.”
Alphonse winced and rubbed at the side of his head after his mother smacked it, chiding him. “Don’t talk to ya mum like ‘at! Pick up ya phone an’ call ‘at weasel… raccoon… whateva ‘e is, call ‘at agent o’ yours back.”
The haggard rodent’s whole face scrunched up in the kind of sulk that only his mother could get out of him.
“An’ ‘ow d’ya know ‘e’s been th’ one callin’ me, eh? Y’ been lookin’ in me phone?”
Charlotte rolled her eyes. “Oh give i’ a rest, Alfie. If it ain’t ‘im is Mizz Muri, an’ if it was ‘er ya’d ‘ave called back by now. What ya gonna do, eh? Jus’ ‘ide an’ ‘ope if ya don’t talk about it it’ll all go ‘way? Ya know when ya fatha made a mistake ‘e didn’t just sit ‘round th’ house like a stump. ‘E would stand up on ‘is own two paws an’ make it right!”
Charlotte’s boy crossed his arms and sunk back into his seat the way he always did when he knew she was right. Being in a more chipper mood thanks to her own turn of good fortune as of late turned the matriarch of the family into more of the mother they had known years ago. She was back to helping in the kitchen, dealing with the young ones, and disciplining Alfie when need be.
She snapped her fingers. “C’mon then, pick up ya blowa. Longa ya wait th’ worse mood ‘e’s gonna be in, eh? Call ‘im back an’ be on ya best be’aviour!”
Alfie resented his mother’s tone, like he was a naughty schoolchild, but he knew she was right. He just didn’t want her to know that he knew she was right. Still, he picked the phone off of his thigh with as much reluctance and hesitation as he could muster. He looked at the list of messages in the inbox, and had a feeling he knew what each of them would be saying, even if not every single one was from his agent. So he simply tapped the tiny name beside one of them and let it dial.
Normally, Sedrick LaTour let the phone ring a few times before he answered. Alfie didn’t know for sure, but it felt like he did it on purpose. This time, he picked up instantly.
“Hello.”
Alfie paused. He expected something more than that. “…Oi, Sedri… Mista LaTour, er… sorry I ain’t be-“
“Yes, that’s wonderful that you’re sorry, but thank you for picking up. I need you to meet me tomorrow at Sarento’s for lunch. Twelve noon, and that is on. The. Dot. Do you understand?”
“Sarento’s?” the rat repeated. He’d heard of the place but had never been. It was an upscale establishment, the kind that he always felt his type weren’t allowed.
“Yes, Mr Norwich, Sarento’s. I have a reservation. I’d ask you to wear something presentable but we both know you indeed will not, so just be there on time.”
“Mista LaTour, jus’ le…” Alfie drifted off, then pulled the phone away from his face to look at the screen, back to showing its icons. He groaned quietly, mouth still closed.
To his side, his mother stood with her hands on her hips. “Well?”
Alphonse glanced back at her. “Meetin’ tomorrow.”
She nodded firmly. “Okay. Well, dress ya best, this is important.”
“Yeh mum. Thanks.”
———————————————
Sorento’s was even fancier on the inside than it looked on the outside. The broad dining room had tables with folded napkins on them in intricate shapes and different animals, there was music being played live from a large piano off on the left side of the room. Dressed in a pair of slacks and a vest with a white dress shirt underneath, Alfie felt eyes on him. He didn’t like the big jackets, they felt awkward on his arms, but at least he was dressed up, wasn’t that enough?
“You’re late.”
Alfie’s brow furrowed as he approached the table, his agent sitting casually with a cocktail at his side still mostly full. He reached into his pocket and pulled out his phone, turning the screen on to check the time. Punctuality was not a word anyone would ever use to describe Alphonse Norwich IV, of course. It wasn’t that he’d show up hours late to practice or games, but the general rule was that if he had to be anywhere at a given time, he’d show up within about ten minutes, just because he could. This time, though, he’d really tried to make it by noon, and his phone confirmed it. Twelve o’clock, twelve zero zero.
“Oi, but… s’noon like ya said.”
Sedrick glanced up at him. “Yes, but it is noon now, which means that you arrived after the stroke of twelve, ergo you are late. I suppose I should be grateful your pants don’t have holes in them, so perhaps I’ll count my blessings rather than quibbling over the details. I was initially going to tell you to be here at nine, however Murina informed me that asking Alphonse Norwich to be anywhere with an AM in the time might as well be asking you to meet me on Mars, so just have a seat.”
Alfie pulled the chair out and sat down, crossing his arms, which strained the fabric of his sleeves. It was a custom shirt, but the tailor hadn’t quite given him enough space for full movement. He sat in silence, waiting for Sedrick LaTour to finish taking a slow sip of his drink.
The coati took a breath through his large nose. “I cannot even tell you the last time I had a good mai tai,” he said, his voice almost dreamy though his face was expressionless. “You really do need the right rum for it, and fresh ingredients. You just can’t get something like this back in Massachusetts. Thank you, by the way,” he said lifting the drink toward Alfie.
“Er… ya welcome,” Alphonse grunted, not aware of his generosity until just then.
“Yes, I am welcome. I suppose now it’s time we have a small discussion, isn’t it.”
Alfie swallowed once. He’d been getting ready for this. LaTour had warned him before, he remembered it as clear as the day he’d said it. He wasn’t Muri, he wasn’t going to allow the kind of disasters that the black rat had put up with. Truth be told, the reason he hadn’t called LaTour back was that he was giving himself at least a few more hours of having an agent. Of being in the league. The media was saying he would be out for the season, and with his contract up at the end of the year, that meant Alphonse had played his last game. He was braced for impact, but had done his best to kick the can down the road as long as he could.
“I’m sure you’ve guessed by now that I’ve had a little talk with our friend Wilmer Grehr, and by the way you will be having a quick talk with him as well,” the coati said pointedly. “I don’t think you quite realize the severity of the situation, Mr Big Bad Alley Rat. I’m sure back in Toxteth knocking someone out with a headbutt i-“
“Oi, I din’t knock ‘im out!”
Sedrick put a hand up. “THAT, my friend, may be a fine way to sort out your problems, like you’re just using your forehead as a period on the end of a sentence, but over here in civilization we do things a little differently and if you plan on being a part OF civilization then I would heavily suggest you start learning to use your head in something other than the literal sense.”
Alphonse paused, confused. “What ya sayin’?”
Taking a deep breath, Sedrick let his eyes close briefly, his patience clearly not the sturdiest at the moment. “What I am saying, Alphonse, is that the amount of jiu jitsu I had to do to help the only general manager in the league that wouldn’t have already bought your contract out and written it off as a medical expense come up with an arrangement not to have you suspended for the remainder of the year should qualify me for an award of some kind and we’re going to be talking about your end of the deal. Mr Grehr has been on eggshells that are so thin only the ones you’re trodding on can rival them, and it took me the better part of an afternoon to help come up with an arrangement.”
It took a few seconds for the reality of the situation to sink in. He wasn’t out? The team was keeping him? Wilmer was… well, okay, Wilmer was likely ready to wring his neck, but at least he’d be getting his neck wrung with a Kahunas jersey on, right? Right? He shook his head lightly to get the cobwebs out and looked back at Sedrick.
“Close your mouth for god’s sakes, Alfie, you’re looking at me like I just told you I’m pregnant,” the longtail snorted, waving over a nearby server. “Yes, my friend here would like a…” he began, then gestured at Alfie to let him finish the sentence.
“Er, jus’ a pint, eh?”
The waiter, a slender rabbit with short ears that looked like they wouldn’t go down if you force them, paused. “Um, sir? A pint of…?”
Sedrick sighed again. “Get him an old fashioned. Top shelf everything.”
As the lapine walked away, scratching his head, Sedrick LaTour glanced at his client. “Hey, good call on the drink. It’s nice to treat yourself now and again.”
Alfie rubbed at his face. “Wait, so… ya sayin’…”
“Again with the ya sayin’…” Sedrick laughed dryly. “No, Alfie. You’re not being thrown out on your tail, you can tell all your little brothers, sisters, nieces, nephews and any of your own progeny that Big Brother still gets to play bouncy ball and as long as he behaves extra special super nice and Uncle Sedrick manages to stamp out the flames, he’ll still be playing next year.”
The rat’s brow furrowed. None of this made sense. Sedrick had been so insistent that he wouldn’t stand for any more screw ups. Not one more incident. Alfie the old Biter Boy had to die. Now here he was explaining how he’d be helping keep Alfie in the league?
“…Why?”
“Why what, Alphonse?”
“Uh… why ain’t I out on me arse? Ya was sayin’ b’fore ‘ow…”
As he so often did, Sedrick cut Alfie off. “If you’d prefer I can make a few phone calls and make all of our lives easier by having you shipped Priority Mail back to England and then Hawaii can just take a mulligan on this year and hope come the draft this year no one minds that they’re getting pulled onto the team with the idiot who didn’t think organ failure was important enough to mention and the other idiot who thought the crowd would cheer braining a referee live on court. I swear, Alfie, if that’s how you act during a game I don’t even want to know what sort of lunacy you got into when there weren’t cameras.”
The comment cut harder than LaTour knew, but he continued. “So, per the agreement as it stands, you will be getting a fifteen game suspension and, amazingly, you will not be charged with assault. However that doesn’t mean you get to just toddle on back to your house and relax for a few weeks.”
Alfie wanted to be mad. He did. Deep in his brain was still the Alphonse that would say it wasn’t such a big deal, that it wasn’t his fault the stupid oryx had such a soft head, that it was just a little bump and no one got hurt so why did it matter? That he should be lucky Alfie was so gentle, he could have cracked his skull in two. But he knew better, now. Nearly two seasons in the league had, finally, taught him a few things about living in the world outside the Alley. Civilization, as Sedrick put it. As much as he wanted to protest and say he should just be let back on the court as long as he promised not to do it again, he knew that wasn’t an option.
The burly rodent took his drink as it came past and sipped from it, pulling a face at first. He didn’t know what an “old fashioned” was, so the combination of whiskey and bitters landed on his tongue oddly, but once he let it swirl in his mouth, it wasn’t that bad. He set the glass down on a napkin and looked at his agent.
“So what now, eh? Th’ fuck ‘m I gonna do?”
“Oh, you misunderstand me, my Fancy Rat Friend,” Sedrick said with another humorless laugh. “This isn’t a discussion about what you’re going to do, this is about what you already did.”
Now Alphonse was even more confused. They’d already talked about what he did, he knew what he did. The world saw what he did. Why did Sedrick want to keep the discussion on that?
The coati continued. “Specifically, that you sent a letter of apology directly to Syed Nahle and his family. It was very touching and heartfelt, and you even offered to cover all of his medical expenses should any come up. I liked that touch, it showed actual sympathy for the pain you caused, even if I doubt you would have offered if he’d actually been hurt. You have also agreed to take anger management with a counselor appointed by the league. In a fantastic showing of penitence, you submitted a statement to the press that will be out on the wire tomorrow morning in which you express deep remorse for everything you did and the shame you brought upon not only yourself, but also the team, the league, and species relations. You made sure to point out that this was not an act of specism, despite what the rumor mills are saying and that you will be donating a small chunk of money to a pro-diversity group. Sure, it’s not a lot and it’s mostly symbolic, but it’s something and I’m sure they’ll appreciate it. You did, however, state that you will not be doing an in person press conference because you don’t wish to be sandbagged as you had been less than a year ago. And finally… let me see your phone for a moment.”
“…Eh?” Alfie replied, flummoxed. He was still wading through the shallow end of what Sedrick had just dumped him in, not in the deeper waters yet.
Sedrick waved toward himself. “Your phone. Let me see it.”
The rat pulled his phone out of his pocket once more and slid it across the table. Sedrick tapped at the screen a bit, began tapping furiously with both of his thumbs, and then slid it back.
“…And finally, you made an apology via Twitter to all of your fans for letting them down. All in all, Mr Norwich, I would say you have been doing everything that could have been expected of you and then some. It’s all very admirable, well done.”
Piece by piece, realization sunk into Alphonse’s head. “Wait, fuckin’… anga management?? Like, with a head docta?”
Taking a casual sip of his own cocktail, Sedrick bobbed his head side to side. “If you’d like to put it that way, yes. Of course, if that’s all too much to bear, if Alphonse Norwich IV is too proud to talk to a counselor, and yes you will be talking, then we can go to plan B, which involves a stack of plane tickets and a lot of questions from your little siblings. I just wanted to tell you in person, and give myself a little bit of beach time. Lord knows I could use it.”
“…Wait, ‘ang on!” the rat blurted out loudly enough that it made a few of the other patrons turn their heads.
Sedrick Latour sighed, pressing a finger just above his left eyebrow and rubbing at it. “Yes, Mr Norwich? If the next words out of your mouth aren’t some version of ‘thank you’ and/or ‘let me pay for the rest of your trip’ then I don’t want to hear it.”
Alfie considered those next words of his very carefully. “Why ya doin’ all ‘is?”
Now it was Sedrick’s turn to look surprised. “Excuse me?”
Alphonse’s face was a sea of confusion, naked honesty cutting through it more than the usual abrasiveness and anger could. “Ya said ya wasn’t gonna, if I cocked it up again I’s out. Ev’ryone’s always sayin’ ‘ow Sedrick don’t do no favors.”
Sedrick paused and took in another measured breath, eyes upwards while he mapped his own sentence out. “Yes, I did. I wanted you to understand the severity of the situation, but it appears I did not do a good enough job. Perhaps now you will. I am, at the end of the day, your agent, so that means doing what’s best for you and by extension me. I will not be the one who takes Alphonse Norwich IV from Murina Beaubonique, after she put herself in the hospital trying to turn a grimy Alley Rat into a professional, and within a few months lets him self immolate.”
The rat’s eyes narrowed, looking at his agent as the ringtail stood. Things were sliding closer to into place, but weren’t quite there yet. Sedrick coming out of nowhere with an offer, Muri telling him to take it, saying she was still his friend. The coati not just letting him drop like a hot pan.
Click.
“Fuck me,” the rat chuckled, only the faintest of grin on his face as he did so.
“I’d prefer not to, thank you,” Sedrick said back. “But might I inquire as to why you suddenly offered?”
Alfie glanced at his agent. “You promised ya wouldn’t.”
Sedrick’s face went taut. “Pardon me?”
Alfie started to grin wider. He felt almost as pleased with himself for figuring it out as he was with what this little revelation meant for him. “Ya promised Muri ya wouldn’t. Fuckin’ ‘ell I shoulda seen it,” he half-muttered, thinking out loud as much as talking to the coati in front of him. “Ya tell me… ya shaggin’ ‘er?” he asked, grinning ear to ear.
“Now you listen to me, and you listen to me VERY closely,” Sedrick responded, voice sharp. He stepped over to Alphonse’s side of the table and pressed a fingertip to the cloth.
“Whatever you think you just figured out, you get it out of that thick skull and wipe that stupid smirk off of your face. I may be giving you more leeway than I normally do, and that may be thanks to external factors, but I do have my limits and if you would like to be the one to call up Muri and let her know that you thought she was sleeping with me, then your phone is right there. Go ahead. Pick it up.”
A beat passed, with Alphonse and Sedrick’s eyes locked on one another. The big rat remained stationary.
“…I didn’t think so. Now if you want to take this minor epiphany of yours like it means you have carte blanch to go around bloodying up anyone that looks at you sideways, point those ripped up ears this way. If I give you this extra consideration, it means that my ass is as much on the line as is yours. I am now aboard the S.S. Alfie and if you go headbutting an iceberg then I’m going down with the ship and I will be damned if I let that happen. I have worked far too long in this industry to let some rat with a dyed mohawk take me down, do you understand me?”
Alfie did his best to keep his face serious, but it was a fight. “Aye, I’m with ya.”
Sedrick nodded, straightening his jacket out once more and trying to recompose himself. “Good. You’ll be getting a call from your new doctor in short order. I will be getting periodic updates. And Alfie…”
The coati waited until he knew the rat was paying attention. “I do not have time to make these trips more than once or twice a year, and only then so I can slip into my shorts and get some sunlight on my fur. If you test me, if I even get the faintest inclination that you are jerking me around and expecting me to clean up your whoopsies like Muri did, it’s over. That is not a hollow threat. My tolerance level is much lower than your previous agent’s.”
Sedrick took a breath. “Now then. Thank you for the drinks. I will be in Honolulu for the next three days. Despite your suspension, YOU will be following your team to Newark for the road games. This is not a vacation, you are still on the team and that means you still are to be present at games. On your best… behavior.”
With that, Sedrick LaTour walked out of Sorento’s.
Alfie looked down at his drink, picking it up and taking another sip of it. Now that he knew what he was expecting, it was actually pretty good. Anger management… Alfie in therapy like some crazy person. He knew that look in Sedrick’s eyes. Muri used to give him that. The glare of an agent fighting to keep control of a situation. Control of him. Alphonse Norwich IV. Passed from agent to agent, but not thrown out. Even after he cracked a ref’s skull. Just a bit of a tongue lashing and a couple weeks of anger management. He could do that. Put on a smile and say whatever the doc wanted to hear. Was he angry? Of course he was angry. But he had a damn good reason to be.
Alphonse ordered another old fashioned. He needed it.
——————————
Sedrick threw the door open of his hotel room, throwing his bag down on the bed. Though not a penthouse suite, it still had plenty of amenities, like a little apartment more than a hotel, really. He asked for a corner room, knowing they were a little bigger than the hallway rooms. His rental car, a luxury model of course.
In truth, the room barely looked different than his own home. It was utilitarian, but just modern enough to avoid feeling sterile. An L couch against the wall, big screen television and bay windows that eliminated the need for lights during the day. Not much by way of decorations.
Sedrick LaTour sat down at the desk the hotel provided, on an office chair comfortable enough he pondered checking to see about getting one of his own for his office in Boston. He pulled his laptop out of a second bag on the floor and flicked it open, sifting through spreadsheets as they came up. The season was coming to an end, and it meant starting to look at rookies, see who was a draft bust, see who was exceeding expectations. Who might be ready to jump up to prime time.
The professional sports world moved fast, and as much as he would have liked to throw on his shorts and stretch out on the beach for a few hours, there was work to do. Dealing with Alphonse had sapped precious hours, to say nothing of the agonizing flight with WiFi not working properly. He was behind and playing catch up. As the sun began to set over Honolulu, Sedrick LaTour’s list of prospects began to congeal. He’d have a few phone calls to make in the morning.
He just prayed that Alphonse wasn’t ruining his clout.
Alphonse has to answer for what he's done. Though it may not be as severe as it could have been, that doesn't mean he's getting off scot free.
And to see what happened with those phone calls Sedrick made, go check out
arterian21's story here: http://www.furaffinity.net/view/16019477/From the Alley to the Big City is a creative collaboration between shanerufus and pac set in the FBA universe.
for a complete list of art, stories, audio and more, please view the project index or visit the official FAtBC website!
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Julian Cross-Kiraly. He'd collapsed on the court in the game right before the break: he had been ignoring appendicitis pains, and... well, he paid for it.
If you want more, you should check out the relevant stories by
Harlow
If you want more, you should check out the relevant stories by
Harlow
Julian Cross Kiraly. Not organ failure, per se, but that's all in harlow's gallery starting with Breaking Point, pt1.
harlow's gallery starting with Breaking Point, pt1. 
Loved this one!
I like how Alfie figured out that for him it's a bit different... But at the same time how LaTour also kept his ground. They're on the same ship now.
Granted, Alfie really has changed a lot in very little time. He understands why he can't just be let back on to play, how "out here" it doesn't work like in Toxteth.
Also, can I say that I absolutely adored the image of Charlotte being more active and "motherly"? Really made me smile, especially that, oh so iconic, logic play between parents and children: knowing ones right, but not wantin to show that they know they're right.
Funnily enough, we hear a lot about Alfie and his dad, be it through conversation, thoughts or flashback, but not much about him and his mother. Really made me smile for the two of them. Also, the image of Alfie in those slacks and vest... That's so weird! Haha have a hard time visualizing that. Fascinating tho!
Gosh what else? Well there's mention of the two obviously-not-alfie tweets we saw after the incident. Of all the things alfie "did"... According to LaTour, anger managment, Huh?
Oh I'm sure LaTour mostly did it because it looks lovely on paper, alongside the public apology and donation. Even Alfie sees it that way, just say a few words, bullshit along, whatever? Right? ... Right?
Heh... If I can take a guess: wrong.
Cannot wait to see where this goes.
I like how Alfie figured out that for him it's a bit different... But at the same time how LaTour also kept his ground. They're on the same ship now.
Granted, Alfie really has changed a lot in very little time. He understands why he can't just be let back on to play, how "out here" it doesn't work like in Toxteth.
Also, can I say that I absolutely adored the image of Charlotte being more active and "motherly"? Really made me smile, especially that, oh so iconic, logic play between parents and children: knowing ones right, but not wantin to show that they know they're right.
Funnily enough, we hear a lot about Alfie and his dad, be it through conversation, thoughts or flashback, but not much about him and his mother. Really made me smile for the two of them. Also, the image of Alfie in those slacks and vest... That's so weird! Haha have a hard time visualizing that. Fascinating tho!
Gosh what else? Well there's mention of the two obviously-not-alfie tweets we saw after the incident. Of all the things alfie "did"... According to LaTour, anger managment, Huh?
Oh I'm sure LaTour mostly did it because it looks lovely on paper, alongside the public apology and donation. Even Alfie sees it that way, just say a few words, bullshit along, whatever? Right? ... Right?
Heh... If I can take a guess: wrong.
Cannot wait to see where this goes.
Go Charlotte! Hee hee, Alfie was just like a sulky kid: "I don't wanna, Mom." Sedrick likes to speak in complete paragraphs. If he ever wants to change careers, Shakespearean actor might be a good fit, He'd make a fine Iago. He handled the situation perfectly, although simply sentences might be the way to go with Alfie. Certainly he's not willing to dump him as a client yet because he sees potential for the future. I'll bet Muri got off the phone with him and let out a sigh of relief: "thank God he's not MY problem anymore." It's been getting through the concrete to the brain underneath little by little: YOU'RE NOT IN TOXTETH ANYMORE. That said.....ANGER MANAGEMENT???? I'm envisioning a louder version of "Analyze This" with more exotic swear words! As always, can't wait for the next chapter!
I'm glad Alphones is getting anger management. I'm just hoping he actually takes the advice, and not just "say whatever the doc wanted to hear". He needs to learn from this. This could definitely benefit him later in his FBA career.
Something I'm curious about. I know there have been a decent amount of player related fights on the FBA courts. I was wondering if Alfie, instead being the one throwing the punches, would actually be the one receiving them. Like for example. If a game wasn't going so well, and Alfie said something smug to the opposing team, and one of those members decided they've had enough and proceed to assault Alfie. Instead of him retaliating though he'd just take it, and make the attacking player look bad. Shocking the whole stadium. I don't know. It's something I've been wondering for some time now.
Something I'm curious about. I know there have been a decent amount of player related fights on the FBA courts. I was wondering if Alfie, instead being the one throwing the punches, would actually be the one receiving them. Like for example. If a game wasn't going so well, and Alfie said something smug to the opposing team, and one of those members decided they've had enough and proceed to assault Alfie. Instead of him retaliating though he'd just take it, and make the attacking player look bad. Shocking the whole stadium. I don't know. It's something I've been wondering for some time now.
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