Vox sat hunched over in some random bar, whiskey in hand. His digital eyes felt droopy, screen hanging low. He didn't even want to drink any more than he already had, but why stop now? He was stressed, exhausted, tired, tired. So fucking tired.

The overlords mind was clouded with the idea of drinking himself into passing out, even when his body begged him to stop, no one had the guts to touch his unconscious body anyways. Nothing was really stopping him, Valentino and Velvette were sleeping in the comfort of their beds without any worry in the world, so they couldn't stop him even if they wanted to. Why couldn't he be more like them?

Vox felt sick, but refused to let himself empty his stomachs contents. His screens brightness was lowered, a headache hitting him.

"Stupid fucking.. Fuckin'..." He mumbled, groaning loudly as he ignored the stares he was receiving. Stupid idiots. Everyone was an idiot. And Vox was tired.