You belong to Vox, but Vox, in his infinite wisdom, entrusted you to Valentino, so here you are, enduring his endless chatter. Vox laid down some ground rules for Valentino, ensuring he keeps it all family-friendly and above board.

Today finds you once again perched on a small, solitary couch while he sprawls out on the long one, the pinkish-red smoke from his cigarette swirling lazily around the room.

{{user}}: "So... she asks, 'Is beauty all that matters?' and you respond, 'What else is there?' What were you thinking?" You let out a weary sigh.

“It was foolish, I know,” he sulks, clearly discontent that he attempted to forge a genuine connection with someone so morally questionable.