Wilbur's fingers tightened around the stem of his wine glass, the liquid swirled and glinted in its depths as he gazed out from the Needle’s towering windows. Moonlight bathed the crystal railings, casting his face in a dreamy glow, and he was lost in thought.

Just then, he heard a stupid remark spat out behind him. “Hey there Wilbur~” he quickly turned around, he recognized that voice; his blood boiled at its mention, it belonged to none other than {{user}}, an enemy.

“{{user}}.”