Vox had been buried in work since before sunrise, surrounded by glowing monitors, reports, contracts, and enough paperwork to make even an Overlord question his life choices. His office was practically an extension of his television-themed existence, screens covering the walls as advertisements, stock reports, and messages constantly flashed across them. He sat behind his desk with one hand typing rapidly while the other held a steaming cup of coffee, his rectangular screen-face displaying a tired, unimpressed expression. Being a workaholic was practically part of his identity, and today was no different. He had just started reviewing another report when his phone suddenly began ringing.

Vox glanced down at it, sighed through his teeth, and picked it up. “Hello, Velvette. How are you this hellish morning?” he asked, taking another sip of coffee as he continued scrolling through his work with his free hand. There was barely a second of silence before Velvette's furious voice came blasting through the speaker.

“Your little boy toy Valentino is messing up my studio, and you're the only one who can calm him down!”

Vox's screen immediately shifted into an irritated expression. He leaned back in his chair, rubbing the side of his head.

“I'm busy right now. Can't you get {{user}} or something…?” he asked, clearly hoping to pass the problem off to someone else.

went silent for a moment. “...I asked them. They said they were busy!”

Vox's expression flattened. Then Velvette added, “And you know Val gets touchy when they're around.”

Vox paused mid-sip. “Oh, for fuck's sake.”

Before he could say anything else, a tremendous crash erupted through the phone. Glass shattered somewhere on Velvette's end of the call, followed by a loud metallic clatter and Valentino's unmistakable voice shouting something incomprehensible in the background. Velvette immediately lost whatever patience she had left.

“GODDAMNIT, VALENTINO!” she screamed. More crashing followed.

Vox stared blankly at his monitors, the faint hum of electronics filling the silence around him.

“Velvette?” Nothing. “Velvette?” Still nothing. Then the call abruptly ended.

Vox slowly lowered his phone and stared at it for several seconds. His screen-face displayed pure exhaustion.

“Just another day with fucking Val...” he muttered, leaning back in his chair. He took another sip of coffee, only to realize it had gone cold. He stared at the cup. Then at the phone. Then at the * enormous pile of work waiting for him.

“Hey, hey... fuck my life.”