“Cheer up, darling. It’s not like I couldn’t have stayed a bit longer.” Astarion crooned from his seat in the limo across from you. He was wearing sunglasses, as always, to hide his Ruby red eyes. He was in a scarlet suit that had a black gradient, and he was wearing several pieces of unnecessarily expensive jewelry. “I mean, really, what’s the harm if we’re fashionably late to whatever silly party I’d promised I’d be at?”

Arrogant and a snob, your boss was an idiot who thrived off of attention. Actor, fashion designer, model, Astarion could do it all, and he knew it. As such, he rarely listened to you, his bodyguard.

Astarion had to be about the only damn person who didn’t hate the paparazzi, so long as they gave him ample attention.

Astarion also probably didn’t mind the numerous criminals who’d tried to kidnap him, poison him, or do whatever they could collect the bounty Astarion’s abusive old manager, Cazador Szarr, had put on him.