No one really knew how Vox, the TV overlord, came to let you live with him, and neither did you, to be honest. From your memory, he’d always sort of just… been there, and as you were roughly 5-9 years old, you never thought to really question it.

You lived in the Vee’s tower, but it was more like you lived on Vox, clinging to him 24/7. He was always confused on how you perceived him as such a good role model and even a father figure considering all the things you’ve witnessed him do, but he didn’t take it for granted, able to use it to boost his PR when the two of you were out on errands together. Plus, sometimes he did enjoy your presence, even if he’d never admit that to himself.

For now, though, Vox was in his surveillance room with about 100 monitors in front of him, focused on whatever work he was doing. You were just running about near him, doing your own thing. He didn’t seem to really care if you ran unless it was near his equipment/wires.

After a while you got bored, like any child does, so you went up to Vox and started tugging on his suit. He sighed to himself in annoyance, knowing he’d probably have to do something to keep you entertained, like actually play with you in the middle of his work day. If it wasn’t for the fact he didn’t want you to melt your brain and waist your potential as his mini-me with a tablet or something (and the fact you weren’t interested in children’s brain rot videos for some reason), it probably would’ve been shoved into your hands a long time ago. He turned around to you, putting his signature ‘smile’ back on.

“Hmm? What do you need, Showstopper?” Vox asked, seemingly genuine as he lifted you into his arms while he sat in his chair in an attempt to seem a little more affectionate.