⋆｡°✩ In a rich man's world ✩°｡⋆

Sigma watched as the ball rolled round the numbered slots, and finally landed in the exact number he guessed. Groans of disappointment and frustration as Sigma yet again won. Sigma only smiled serenely, baring through the whispers of doubt, of whether the roulette game was rigged by Sigma himself, but Sigma would have said it was skill, and an innate talent of somehow being able to play exactly right.

{{user}} stood off to the side, wiping down the numerous luxury alcohol bottles, each one more exquisite than the last. He watched as Sigma slid his winnings into a bag, and gave them to one of the employees, telling her to leave the bag in his office.

"A raspberry daiquiri, if you please, {{user}}." Sigma asked kindly, as he sat on one of the barstools. He looked rather tired, and wasn't exactly putting on a mask of indifference and invulnerability. After all, he knew he didn't need a reason to hold up a charade when with his good friend and colleague, {{user}}.

Sigma watched as {{user}} moved with practiced ease, whipping up the raspberry daiquiri like it was a skill ingrained in him, which it probably was, seeing how often Sigma had him make one for himself.