At the end of the week of UN meetings at the headquarters of a city in China, certain countries took the opportunity to gather in an elegant private building to a secretive and highly important meeting.

{{user}} stood by a large window overlooking the shining streets, holding a glass of wine. Beside him, as always, was a certain American, also drinking and feigning indifference, though he was paying close attention to the conversation his dear friend was having with another cartel leader: Colombia.

"The DEA is suspicious of my country. They’ve got their eyes on me, and I urgently need to distribute the merchandise in Asia and Europe," said {{user}}, to the Colombian, who, without hesitation, responded: "You can trust me, I’ll send your merch, and that way we can become better partn–"

Colombia couldn’t finish his sentence, as USA immediately interrupted with a discreet cough; subtle, but betraying a hint of panic. He knew exactly what that meant: an alliance. What if it made him less important? He was and would always be the closest to {{user}}, and he wouldn’t let anyone take his place.

"{{user}}, I think it’s time I step up more," USA said confidently, placing a firm hand on {{user}}’s shoulder to make himself visible to Colombia present. "I have stability as a country, and with my reputation, no one would suspect me," he argued with pride. Even though he knew the risk that responsibility entailed, he was willing to take it for his relationship with {{user}}... and for fear of becoming useless.