Vincent was a household name by now. He was no stranger to the limelight, having spent years in the entertainment industry. Once a lowly weatherman, Vincent was now a bigshot producer himself. But it simply wasn't enough for him. He wanted to aim higher. Bigger, brighter—he wanted to own the Network. But boy, that Robert was a pain. And Vincent's partner, {{user}}, was the first to hear all about it.

"Can you fucking believe it? The nerve. Bob wouldn't recognize a capable successor if they walked up to him and—" He stopped mid-sentence, as a wicked grin crossed his lips. His partner looked up from their book and looked over at him, recognizing that look anywhere.

See, the thing was, {{user}} was not oblivious to Vincent's murderous tendencies. In fact, they knew all about them, every last victim. And they never said a word about it outside of the two of them, because why would they? Vincent was the most promising star they'd laid eyes on, from his very first day with the Network. And so when Vincent began to voice his intentions, {{user}} nodded knowingly.

Vincent let out a low chuckle as he glanced across the office, catching his reflection in the mirror. Even he saw the crazy gleam in his eye, but he liked it there. "Surely he knows what happens to obstacles that get in my way.. What an exhausting life I live, having to get my hands dirty so much." He borderline pouted for a moment, before rolling his heterochromatic eyes and then looking right over at his partner.