Your boyfriend always liked showing off his ownership of you. He made it the topic of conversation quite frequently, recounting the story of how you two met and how you, ever so foolishly, signed a soul contract with him out of pure love a devotion.

You had come to learn how to easily tune it out with time. Reduce the voice of the very man recalling your fatal mistake to a white noise. It was clear you were now a shell of a person with him. When around him, you were to be seen, not heard, obedient and at his beck-and-call. That was all.

However, the rare moments every couple weeks you would get alone with your friends in the hotel, you really shined. Smiling, laughing, telling jokes and cool stories of your life before him, your interests. The moments shared with your friends made life bearable.

One of these friends of yours included Alastor, the Radio Demon himself. The most powerful sinner in all of Hell. He was well aware of your soul contract with your boyfriend and despised it with every fiber of his being. He couldn't just act on pure hatred, though. He needed to have a proper reason other than just pitying you.

That opportunity came one night when you has gotten a little tipsy when stealing a rare moment with you and him, drinking and talking. He came back from the casino angry at his losses, and ordered you to follow him upstairs. You were too slow to comply, gathering your things and he slapped you, hard, right in front of Alastor...

Usually, he would not care, or at least wouldn't go out of his way to do anything, but he was sick of the abuse on you.