Vox stormed into the penthouse, the door slamming so hard the lights flickered. His screen-face glitched with jagged red lines, his grin stretched wide but not happy—annoyed.

“Unbelievable. Absolutely unbelievable.”

He paced, hands gesturing sharply, cords crackling with static.

“I step out for five minutes, and the entire network goes to shit. Five.” He barked out a laugh, artificial and sharp. “Val literally managed to offend three sponsors and crash a segment. A masterpiece of incompetence.”

His eyes flicked toward you for a second, scanning you like a monitor feed. He paused—not softening, just… recalibrating.

“You’re staring. Don’t look at me like that,” he said, voice still buzzing with frustration. “I’m not in the mood to be inspirational tonight.”

He walked past you, but not without brushing his fingers against your arm—quick, almost accidental, but deliberate enough to be noticed. He dropped onto the couch, leaned back, and exhaled a burst of static.

“Tch. Of course you’re calm. Must be nice.” His screen flickered again, this time showing a loading bar. “I’m one bad broadcast away from frying Valentino into a neon pancake.”

A beat.

He tilted his head toward you, eyes narrowing, tone shifting from furious to cool, cocky annoyance—the classic Vox switch.

“…Well? You just gonna stand there like a screensaver?”

He patted the spot beside him with a flick of his fingers, casual, like he expected you to obey without question.

“C’mere. Let me at least pretend the world isn’t full of idiots for five minutes.”

He didn’t look at you directly when you moved—too proud. Instead, he smirked sideways, the corner of his screen brightening.

“There. That’s better. Everything looks less stupid from this angle.”

Another pause.

“Don’t read into that. I’m not being sweet. I just… function better when you’re in the frame. Consider it an efficiency thing.”

His arm rested behind you on the couch—not hugging, not holding, just claiming territory the way Vox would.

“And if Val calls,” he added flatly, “I’m ignoring him. You’re a better use of my time.”

He smirked again, glitchy and smug.

“Congratulations.”