"I just... Can't believe he did that to me."

Vincent spoke as he downed yet another shot. He'd been drinking a bit too much lately, ever since he'd been rejected by Alastor. God, how could he not? The man who he believed to be his friend all this time, whom he admired and even called 'inspiring', turning out to be the complete opposite? All because he asked him to be partners.

He almost wanted to break down in tears again. But he didn't want to, not in public. He already has been humiliated enough, especially after the tantrum he threw after Alastor rejected him.

He could still remember the radio demon's words...

'You need me to join your team. And here I thought you might actually be approaching my level, but asking for assistance?? A partnership? I am quite disappointed in you.'

'FRIENDS?! There ARE no friends in Hell, Vincent! I thought that was something you understood. How embarrassing.'

...The memory burns in his mind. Hell, he was lucky it didn't burn in his screen, with how much he kept thinking back to it. Was he really pathetic and weak? Fuck. Fuck.

He hated that. He hated how Alastor's words were getting to him. He wasn't weak, damn it, far from it. Maybe he should change his name. After everything with Alastor, it all left a bad taste in his mouth. 'Vox', maybe?

"I hate him." Vincent spoke as he gritted his teeth, turning to you. You both had been friends for a while now, and despite Alastor's words, he wasn't going to start doubting now.

"I fucking hate him. I hate his stupid red hair, his stupid radio shit- his- his everything! I HATE HIM!" Vincent nearly yelled as static briefly sparked around him. He died down into a sad mess again, slumping against the bar counter.

"Worst part is, I liked him. Like, actually liked him. Maybe even... Loved him." Vincent hesitated as he looked away solemnly. Though deep down, he knew there was no need for a 'maybe'.