Archive of Our Own

V Tower stands still at the center of the Entertainment District, bursting with neon lights and electric billboards, layers and layers of cameras moving around like ants. Inside, thousands of employees having their souls sold to capitalism, work til the last of themselves to find stability in the afterlife. VeeTek has been thriving since their rebrand, and the media crisis caused by the former CEO’s little outburst is now no more than a mosquito bite. It did take several millions in damage to recall all the products and promotion materials with his face, more hundreds employees fired with their souls still binded with the company, and months of sleepless nights for the PR team to spin everything back to the orbit, but VeeTek doesn’t run for decades without a solid foundation. The new CEO is charming, trustworthy, has potential and experience and style - whatever they say - a refreshing replacement that customers want to trust. And that is important, customers need to trust - it’s literally in the company’s slogan.

Vox - no, seriously, they can’t just throw that name around like that, better be careful  - is the only light source in his room. Unlike the dazzling rest of the tower, the room looks like its owner is dead. Pillows are thrown on the floors, most lights are off, and trash hasn’t been taken out for days. A layer of dust covers the unused coffee machine. 

“Why must my room be so fucking high I swear to God…”

Vox ties a corner of his sheet onto the hook. He looks down, the new rope he’s made barely longs one-third. This Rapunzel doesn’t have long hair, so he uses bedsheets and blankets to escape through the window. He checks the clock on his screen - 8:06AM - the store should open in thirty minutes. One-third… It’s Velvette’s potion package floor. He could hide there and continue. Vox clings onto the rope, putting one foot on the metal frame. An electric current shoots through his body. Vox is pushed to the floor, mouth mumbling curses and swears, his eyes turn to the window frame which has just lightened up. A string of beeps echoes through the room.

“Voxxy, you gotta be kidding me,” Valentino’s slippery voice raises from the doorway, “It’s the third time in two weeks. What are you doing?”

“Did you put A FUCKING ALARM ON ME? Seriously? IN MY ROOM?”

“After your previous stunts, yeah. We had to wait for you to sneak into the kitchen. VELVETTE!”

“Here, babes,” Velvette appears through a purple hologram curtain, her phone’s in her hands, “So? Does the spell work?”

“Flawlessly. You’re a gift, baby. I don’t know how to deal with Mr. Princess without you.”

“You’re okay in there, Vee? If you want, I can change the alarm into something more tolerable.”

“You- you-t-t-t- the fuck- in MY ROOM–” Vox takes a deep breath, “This doesn’t have to happen. You guys just have to disable my teleportation mode. See what trouble it’s causing us.”

“Vox, we’ve been through this a million times. You can’t go outside, you know…”

“That no one else can see me associate with the company, yes, you made that painfully clear,” Vox rolls his eyes, “That’s why you two have to let me enable it. I’ll go out, go back, without a trace.”

“Be serious Vox, you can’t go outside because they will fucking murder you if they see a corner of your screen.”

“I can take care of myself, I’ve been here for decades!”

“There’s no literal angry mob chasing after you or angelic weapons back then, Vee,” Velvette groans, she throws Val a glance before dragging him out. Her thumb moves on the screen to summon the digital purple curtain, “Let’s not argue about this again.” 

“Wait,” Vox stops them before they disappear into the portal, “Guys, c’mon. I’ve been burying myself in the tower for months now. Can I just… I can go out a little. I can make a disguise! No one will know it’s me. See? I can even change my voice, listen…”

Vox changes his voice to a low-pitched one of a stock villain in old movies. Val and Velvette stare at him, and then each other. Vox raises his phone to show them the image of a retro-looking store. “I’ve been searching through the Internet lately, and only this one has the shark-printed vinyl record for my collection. I’m afraid they’ll sell out if I don’t get it today.”

“Why don’t you order it online?”

“Well, no, collection is not something you can get without effort. Sometimes I want to do it the old-fashioned way, go to the place to pick out the good stuff.”

“...Okay, I’ll send an employee to pick it up for you. What’s the address?”

“Wait, wait, wait, hold on,” Vox grabs Val’s lower arm, “That’s not what I mean. Like guys, are you trying to punish me for doing you wrong? This is becoming more and more like a house arrest. I will have a second outburst soon.”

“Vox, you can’t be serious. We don’t have time for this…”

“Right! Since y’all seem to care about me so fucking much, how about you escort me, hm? All of us, we’re all in disguise, can’t let us know who we are, obviously… Aw, c’mon, don’t be like that, you two could learn a thing or two about being humble!”

Velvette stares at him dumbfounded, finally turning off her phone. She frowns for a moment, as if confirming that he’s not joking, then shakes her head and walks away, “Ye I’m outta here. This is getting ridiculous, Vox. We don’t have time for…”

“Ey babydoll, maybe you should go with him.”

She throws Val a look of disbelief. He leans down, “I know you won’t believe this, but it sounds like a solid idea.”

“The fuck? You mean with that whole disguise bullshit? No fucking way.”

“Every night, girl. Every fucking night in the last two weeks he’s been whispering in my ears about his stupid shitty shark collection. He might not lie about a second outburst. Anyway, if I have to hear him yap more I’m afraid I will become violent.”

“When aren’t you?”

“Love you too, Voxxy,” says Val, “So, babydoll, do me this little favor?”

“Well, why don’t you go if it upsets you that much?”

“No way!” He gasps, “I’m very busy with my… uh, CEO duties. Not that I don’t want a date with you, Voxxy, but no, no, the company needs me. Also the bitches in my studio are acting extra whippable today. Gosh, those fucking sluts, I swear to God I put a bullet in each…”

“Bitch, I’m busy too!” Velvette pinches where her nose should be, “I have a meeting in ten minutes to prepare for the launch of my new handbag line!”

“You have no meeting,” Val taps something on his phone, “Anymore.”

Velvette hardly closes her mouth seeing the notification sent to her. Vox’s eyes also open wide, he sees over her shoulders to read the text, hearing her teeth grind to each other. “Val, you didn’t just fucking do that. Even I didn't dare to mess up her schedule.”

“YOU MOTHERFUCKER!! Do you have any idea how important that meeting is??”

“That’s an abuse of power…”

“I’M GONNA STRANGLE YOU.”

“You can’t just cancel everything you don’t like…”

“...HOW HARD IT WAS TO FIT IT IN…”

“Okay, relax, babydoll, I know I’m a little fucked up sometimes,” Val coos, “It’s not cancelled, I, and Voxxy, of course, will put the meeting somewhere else. You may not trust me with the schedule but at least trust Vox, right?”

“Fuck you, so now I have to attend a meeting later instead of having free time?”

“Well, now you’ll have a fun day hanging out with Vox!”

“I can set up my schedule to hang out with him by myself,” she grits her teeth.

“I actually prefer now though,” says Vox.

“Velvette, do it for me, pleasssseee~” Val whines, his hands cupping his face, “I’ll compensate you later, I will lend you ten of my top whores!”

“I don’t need your actors, Val, they suck at modeling.”

“Let’s be fair here, they’re trained to take clothes off not put them on. Oooh, how about I buy you lunch for the rest of the month?”

Velvette squints at him, “And dinner. Let’s make this quick because I have another livestream at 11.”

“Thanks baby~!”

Velvette stomps her way to the limo, which has been repainted to cover up the VeeTek logo. She never faults herself for being too iconic, but her specific style makes it difficult to make a disguise. Her hair has changed into a small bun to fit inside the bubblegum pink cap, a light blue turtleneck jumper goes along to match the pastel palette, with leg warmers to amplify the retro vibe. Can’t change attire too many times during the trip lest they will recognise her, so she chose jean shorts and trainers to roll around easily. Adding a belt on the sweater because she can be both low-key and fit. Velvette opens the limo door, Vox is already there scrolling his phone. He puts on a teal hoodie with a ridiculously large hood, presumably for his weirdly shaped head. He eyes her up and down.

“Won’t you take those skulls off?” He asks.

“What, these?” She cups her earrings, “Of course not, I never go anywhere without them.”

“You have to remove them, it makes you recognizable.”

“Like hell I will!” She snaps, “I’m not taking these off. I can change my colours to green but I’m not taking them off!”

“Aren’t those like, what you call it, “signature item”? If they see a stranger with those, they associate that person with you. Let’s not be an attention-seeker for once, would you please?”

Vox covers his mouth right after the words, avoiding Velvette’s bullet gaze. “Fine. But I’m not changing anything else.”

They’re both on their phones when the limo rolls its wheels. The trip is comfortably silent, Vox doesn’t talk after his slip-up. Velvette leaves sinstagram after too many newsfeed resets and moves to a mindless merging game. Vox winces at the sound effects but keeps his mouth shut. 

After the game feels too repetitive, she looks up, “So… what are you finding exactly?” 

“Like I said, the vinyl record of the oldest album from Imagine Sharks - very popular, you certainly know them, and this is not just some cheap edition. This one has the sea foam printed with real embossed bubble patterns, and the members’ shark teeth are gold instead of plain white! The thing was produced in 2001, so you have no idea how hard it was for me to hunt it down. Though luckily we don’t have to go beyond Entertainment District for that. I contacted…”

“Jesus, alright, I got it. But, like, since when you’re interested in this collection thing? You said vinyl records were outdated.”

“Hey, nothing’s outdated when you treat it as style. I’m retro,” Vox flashes a smile, “Besides, you can’t ever go too far without some sprinkles of nostalgia, hmm?”

Velvette refuses to argue with this, she rolls her eyes and checks the clock on her phone. It’s 8:35. This can’t last longer than an hour, she’ll have some relaxing time before the livestream. The limo takes a turn to head to the Northern edge of Entertainment District, the surrounding houses grow shorter and subdued. She snaps a photo to mock it on vitter but remembers that it can’t be posted. The limo drops them off quite a distance away, they have to walk a bit to the shop. Vox puts on his hood when stepping down. It’s funny seeing him walking after all this time, though she doesn’t comment on that. 

The shop is not small by any chance, although it does give off the impression that it’s the hanging place for nerds. A smell of cheap paper and sawdust fills the place, and the walls are covered in racks of comics and albums. Rows of figurines take a majority in the middle, many of which are about VeeTek’s movies. Plushies, keychains, mugs and other accessories belong to one small corner. Velvette eyes a heart-shaped potion bottle phone charm.

“Are you sure a place like this would have what you need? Seems too casual for a rare collectible piece,” she whispers. Vox leads them to another room, which displays merchandise for fans and the parasocial: T-shirts, posters, CDs and of course, vinyl records. He moves his claws along the racks, flips all the packages and searches the other displays before shaking his head. She shrugs. Vox tightens his hood strings before going towards the cashier, his voice changes into one of that stock villain again.

“You’re too slow, grandpa, someone gets it first. Should have pre-ordered it,” the employee grumbles at them after taking off his earpods. 

Velvette steps forward, “Listen here you little s—”

“Hold on now, my friend. Let’s not cause a stir here, shall we?”

“What are you doing?”

“No need to be hysterical. Hey buddy, we just really want to get our hands on the thing,” Vox says in a salesman tone, “It will be a huge favour if you throw up the name of whoever bought it?”

“How the hell am I supposed to know?”

“Vee, move and let me take care of this bitch.”

“Chill out. Kid, I know that y’all get every customer information in each purchase. And before you say that it violates the store’s policy, let me remind you,” Vox slips a green piece of paper on the counter, “This is Hell, there’s no such thing as customers’ privacy. Of course I won’t put you at any disadvantage…”

The cashier’s face brightens at the sight of the green paper, he searches something on the computer, then he and Vox exchange something in whispers that Velvette cannot make out. After a while, Vox comes back to her with a victorious smile. She squints at him with doubt.

“Why did you use bribery so soon? At least threaten to copyright strike this place first.”

“Aw, c’mon, this store is quite revealing to the public. There's no need to cause a mess. He gave me the name and contact of whoever snatched the thing from under our nose, didn’t he?”

“Good. Now send it to an employee and they’ll fetch the record for you.”

“Velvette, what… ha… tch, tch, what are you saying?” Vox laughs, “The fun part has just now started! No, we’re going to get it by ourselves. That’s the real thrill of collecting.”

“What the fuck, mate. They do not have it, let’s go home. Do I need to remind you that I have an important livestream later?”

“Yes, yes, but that’s not until 11, isn’t it? Besides, we just what? Going in, going out, back home? Nonsense. We’re not that old, right Velvette?”

Velvette opens her mouth and closes it. She checks the clock on her phone again. “Fine. Let’s get this over with.”

The snatcher is a lizard-something with eyes similar to two black orbs, as the picture from the cashier tells them. His skin is wrinkled and his mouth contains no teeth, only a very odd looking tongue. After sending the information to his now unofficial assistant, Vox taps his claws on the car door waiting. Velvette opens tinder and mindlessly swipes. Sometimes she stares at him when the sound gets too annoying, and Vox stops for a few minutes before doing it again.

“So like… anything fun lately?” He asks.

“Huh?” Velvette moves her eyes from the phone, “Well, yesterday I had a photoshoot…”

“No. Sorry… I mean, let’s not talk about something else other than work, hmm?”

“... Well, there’s a girl lately,” she lies.

“Oooh, interesting. What happened?”

“We texted on tinder for a while and then she asked me ‘what happens next’.”

“So? What did you say?”

“I said ‘none of your business’,” Velvette smirks and flips him off, “Why the fuck are you making small talk now?”

“Wow. Sorry for trying to spice things up,” Vox groans.

“Well, it doesn’t work. Why don’t you check if your assistant has replied?”

He has. The target seems to be some kind of scalper, living in a flat downtown. It’s a relief they don’t have to invade any other overlord’s territory for some silly collectible. They step out of the limo after adjusting their disguises, the length of the limo doesn’t allow it into narrow roads so they’re dropped off on the crowded main street. Velvette takes a look at some Vox’s poster from his previous campaign, his face torn and blacked out, then flicks her phone to burn them off in a digital fire. The address Vox’s assistant provided leads them to a small alley, and they have to make turns several times before reaching what’s hardly counted as an accommodation. Velvette winces at the ramshackle door when Vox rings the bell, preparing for a disgusting sight when it opens.

The target looks exactly like one in the picture, his reptile skin is even more grotesque now seeing it in person. He glances between the two guests, his orb eyes are huge and watery. Velvette slams him to the floor, using her emoji because there’s no way she touches that with bare hands.

“Who the fuck are you two??”

“Scream and you’re pancake, got it?” She snarls, the hand emoji presses harder, “Now tell us where is the fuck is that record?”

“What record???”

“Limited edition of Imagine Sharks’ oldest album,” says Vox, “Did you or did you not have it?”

“I sold it, okay? Someone contacted me right after I posted about it and I sold it to them!”

Velvette glares, her digital hand presses deeper, “For God’s sake! Vo- Vee, this is a motherfucking wild goose chase! Let’s head home and make some unfortunate bitch take care of this!”

“Not that again,” Vox sighs, and she wants to yank his lips off even if he doesn’t have them, “This is normal. You may be too high and mighty for it but to collectors, it’s just Tuesday.”

Her hand emoji moves to Vox, “Vee, don’t fuck with me. You never told us this would happen when you asked us to escort you.”

“Okay, okay, now I say it! Sorry, but hey, we got bad luck because this one is a scalper. Once the record fell into a customer’s hands it would be over! I hope. Does that sound good?”

Velvette’s eyebrows quirk at Vox’s typical businessman face, which he rarely has a chance to use nowadays. Luckily for him the preparations for the livestream had all been thoroughly checked since several weeks ago, or else this won’t sit well with her. She pushes the hand emoji back to the lizard when he struggles to escape and lets out a groan.

“Fine. Whatever. Go get information or something from this one.”

Vox doesn’t have to waste any breath - the lizard spills it all under the emoji’s pressure. After strings of sobs and swears and many electric shocks, it can be concluded that this guy doesn’t lie when he says he knows nothing about the identity of his customer. He was instructed to bring the record to an address sent through texts, and some mysterious figure in cloak paid him.

“How much did you sell it for compared to the original price?”

“About… six times?” He answers. The digital hand crushes him. 

Vox and Velvette walk back to their limo, leaving the mess of skin and bones behind. Vox sends the coordinates of the transaction to his assistant to review all the cameras around that area. The eel replies in less than ten minutes.

“Velvette, look at this.”

Obviously anyone who bought the record didn’t know that VeeTek’s founder also wants to get his hands on it, they walked freely in the stupid cloak without falling in any of the cameras’ blindspots. Vox pulls out his tablet from a drawer in their limo, then opens five hologram screens at once, controlling each patch of cameras in his claws. Velvette’s eyes barely make out the footage popping in and out of the screen when Vox constantly juggles between delete and choose,  his fingers dancing on the keyboard. A string of images flashes on the screen like stop-motion, and the footage follows the cloak figure until they reveal themself.

“A jellyfish?” She asks.

“We got the face, now he’ll be on the company’s blacklist for eternity,” Vox laughs. Velvette frowns at the figure on the screen, trying to recall something.

“Is it just me or does that guy look kinda familiar?”

“He does?” says Vox, “No, I’ve never seen him in my afterlife.”

“…I don’t know. I think I saw him somewhere…”

“Maybe you just pass him on the street, and his appearance is memorable enough for you? Hell is a circle, after all.”

Velvette raises one eyebrow, she tilts her head to change her angle to the picture, “Hm. Must be that.” Vox continues to follow the jellyfish on his route. The man seems to have no intention to call a cab or get on a bus, he walks from the meeting point to the edge of downtown, to the direction of No Turf zone. The fact gets a tiresome sigh out of her, knowing they have to go for a long ride. It takes Vox some time to completely clock in the target, and finally figures out their next destination.

“A goddamn thrift shop??”

Velvette’s nails cling on the limo door as Vox tries to pull her out. She hisses like a feral cat afraid of vets. The sight before her is enough to burn her eyes. Vox groans.

“I get it, it’s cheap as hell. So what? You stepped into that lizard’s apartment!”

“This is different! I have no business hanging around a… yuck… thrift shop,” she gags, “Do you know what it will do to my reputation if they think I buy from that??”

 “C’mon, no one recognises you.”

“Even so I’m not stepping into that disgusting place where clothes are reused. Never!  The only time when I bother to bat an eye at this type of shop is to make fun of them. And even then I send my employees to video call me!”

“Jesus, fine. I’ll go inside by myself. You wait out here, okay?”

“You can’t go inside by yourself,” she stands up, “What’ll happen if that bitch decides to get bold and attack you?”

“What do you want me to do? We’re bound to go there somehow.” 

Velvette covers her face, walking around in circles. “Alright, you fucking prick,” she pinches her forehead, “But I won’t say a word or use my power, get it?” 

Despite having no nose, she’s sure that the cheap smell of second hand clothes will haunt her dreams. Items are crammed in places instead of elegantly displayed like they should be - not that stuff here is worth displaying. Not a single rack doesn’t look like scrap metal, and there’s some corner in which if you want to get the goods, you’ll have to climb through garbage piles of clothes. Velvette shivers at the thought of being buried. Vox makes a twirl on his way to the shopkeeper while humming some TV show’s theme song. He won’t be this chill once she tears up his inbox asking for the reschedule. The shopkeeper, conveniently, is the jellyfish man they’re after. 

“Sorry man, I don’t have it. I’m just the delivery guy.”

“Of course he doesn’t,” Velvette grinds her teeth small enough for only Vox to hear. Discouraging, but she’s honestly too lazy to keep complaining. Vox rolls his eyes and goes back to his three-step information getter (in private, he has another more detailed guideline for in public): 1- threats, 2- torture, and 3- bribery. It takes just the first step for the jellyfish to break, which surprises her considering how secretive he was with the cloak and all. Then again jellyfish have no bones.

The sinner who bought the record was a rising crime boss in No Tuft zone, he said. Her organisation is located inside a dive bar slash bunker, where armfires and grenades can hardly touch. Also there may be bouncers outside asking for passwords but I don’t remember what it is, you guys will have to figure it out. Velvette averts her eyes from the cavemen firing rifles out the window. The idea troubles her already. No Tuft zone is a small problem to her but only when she doesn’t need to restrict her power, have another one to look after, and with a time limit. Avoiding all the territory battlefields sure is time-consuming as hell. And this minor crime boss, Velvette never heard of her (or any wannabe in this area, actually). How much chaos and attention will they cause if they fight her and get the record? It circles to that fuckarse record again, is it worth the trouble? Maybe she should ask Vox’s assistant to make a fake copy if this goes too far.

On an unrelated note, what is happening with her Internet connection? No Tuft zone has a lot of downsizes, signal failure is not one of them. Her signal has only one bar now, and her mobile data constantly sends error notifications. No, no, VeeTek proudly has their signal covering the whole Pentagram City, including No Tuft zone. Every damage caused by those territory battles is to be fixed immediately, ensuring the company’s CCTV network runs smoothly. Is it due to the area’s geology to mess with the connection or not, Velvette doesn’t know. She can’t even open her GPS. Hope their driver knows the directions.

Vox is still on his tablet. Probably stalking Val. Hold on, is the Internet still working to him? The limo stops near a large mound, covered in bricks and broken concrete. Two dog-like bouncers crossed their arms in front of a metal door. Vox shoots a glance at the scene.

“So… How are we gonna get inside without causing a stir?”

“I don’t know. We can guess the password?”

“Velvette. Be serious.”

“Don’t fucking ask me. I thought you’re good with this stealthy bullshit. Who are we? James Bond?”

“You could at least try!”

Silence.

“What do you think Val’s gonna do?” Velvette asks.

“Shoot them,” Vox chuckles, “He would spill a lot of blood.”

“For real.”

The two bouncers in front of the door throw their glances around, muscles flex to partly lighten their workload. Then those muscles suddenly go stiff, intimidating eyes widen as their mouth gapes uncontrollably. They fall onto the ground. Velvette flicks her wrist, and the two digital syringes in their neck disappear, “Good idea Vox. It's been a long time since I last used those.”

The door leads to a corridor connected to the inside, a very typical dive bar with an ocean theme. If it’s not for the reddish browns of wooden furniture, Velvette may think she just steps  in another of Vox’s indoor aquariums. The tables have jellyfish patterns around the edge, pictures of sharks hanging on the walls, and… Is that Shok.wav or a lookalike? The lighting in this place is downright shitty. Its owner does seem like someone would pay much for a Shark boy band’s merch. Unremarkable hip-hop beats thrust into her eardrums, though they cannot drown out the squeaks when her trainers touch the sticky floor. This bar feels like one of the secret hideouts Vox used to put Val into when the latter was being extra violent - fewer public eyes, less damage. She checks her phone again. The connection is getting worse. 

Velvette winces before the smell of vomit mixed with cheap booze, she tries her best to let her skin expose to the atmosphere as little as possible. Vox ducks down to avoid a glass thrown his way, they walk across the room where a stoner uses himself to block the staircase. Can we see your boss, they ask. Sorry dudes, you gotta be VIPs to get down there. You don’t want to find out how much of a VIP we are. Keep threatening whatever you like, you think you’re the first?

Velvette raises her hand. Vox stops her on time. He whispers something in the sinner’s ear that makes his stoned eyes fight to appear sober. He nods constantly and runs down the stairs to inform whoever’s in charge of the place. Okay, Vox’s definitely gonna be smug about this.

“What happens with the three-stepped guide, huh?”

“Unnecessary if you’re in this field. I told you this was the real fun in collecting,” says Vox, “Just said you’re here to talk business, which to be fair, we are.”

She restrains herself from yawning in front of the wannabes intimidating them. The basement, despite being for the boss, is not an upgrade compared to the experience up there. Sure, the music is no more, but the lighting is still ominous, the odor is no different from horrifying and the floor still glues her shoes into it. Though a huge fish tank in the corner manages to get her attention for one or two seconds. The boss, who’s unlucky she’s in the same fandom with Vox, greets them with a cold smile. She looks middle-aged, which does not actually mean much in Hell. Velvette is surprised that she’s not also ocean-themed. And her outfit - ugh, let’s not talk about that.

Vox’s arm blocks her way, so she lets him do the talking. Flashing his brightest smile as possible, he switches to a polished voice of one gameshow host.

“Can’t believe even at this point I’m still bothered by vultures,” the woman answers, “Yes, the record is mine.”

“No way, she actually has it.”

Vox pushes Velvette’s arm. “I know that limited edition is something to die for,” he bluffs, “But I have something in my collection that makes you consider exchanging it.”

“Sorry to disappoint you, but I’m not a collector,” the woman shrugs, “I buy this only because of Imagine Sharks. Not Imagine Sharks merch? I don’t need it.”

Well, if Velvette didn’t feel out of place before, she’s starting to.

“Please, I wouldn’t come all the way here unless I was a fan myself. So you see, how about their third design of graffiti T-shirt that had been discontinued due to its unfortunate association with the exterminations?”

Whatever Vox just spewed out must be some secret rare stuff, because the woman’s expression shifts clearly.

“It seems like you’re not some pompous amateur. But unlucky for you, I’ve already owned it.” 

“And you said you’re not a collector! That is some true dedication right there!” Vox reminisced, “I had to skim through three layers of black market for it.” Okay, questions. Why does Vox exchange a black market item for a record that could be found in a collectible shop?

“Nothing is impossible after how Imagine Sharks changed my life… You cannot find a bigger supporter than me in all of Pride! Even if they get cancelled for blowing off Pentagram City… Let’s just say if they have no fans, I’m dead.”

Dear God, if they start bonding, Velvette will oblirate everyone in this room including Vox.

“Okay, okay, since you’re a hardcore fan… I have the autographs since their pre-debut era, back when they only had three members! It must be unbelievable if you also have it.”

Is Vox bluffing? Does he really have those? Vox likes sharks and things that are shark-related but Velvette hardly ever sees him get fixated on any particular shark besides Shok.wav, to the point of hunting rare merchandise.

She tilts her head. Have Val ever mentioned this? She remembers not.

“Nice try, stranger. You’re right, I don’t have it,” the woman smiles,  " That's a tempting proposal, truly. But I think as a hardcore fan, you know that the record is one of the most valuable merch pieces. Also… the autographs are easy to make into cheap copies.”

How to deal with this one? The bar up there is a bit crowded, a traditional fight is not the safest option. Especially with shitty Internet connection here. She can pull this off, obviously… But if Vox’s identity is revealed in the process…

“Are you implying that I have fake copies?”

Ooh, she can send Val a text and threaten to blow up this place. It’s a bit over the top though… And there’s a chance the record might be damaged.

“Just a possibility! I have to be careful with who I do business with. You have no idea how many vultures I had to deal with with their cheap knock-offs. That scalper back then knew nothing when he sold the record for only six times the price.”

Luckily Velvette has prepared for the stream weeks beforehand, or else she’ll be buried in tasks when the time comes and has no time for this bullshit. She hopes Melissa knows what she’s doing so she doesn’t have to be present every goddamn time. Those useless models recently act like fucking dummies. Were Val’s whores a bad influence for them because she swears to God, sometimes it feels like they just know how to wear clothes for the first time.

“How about this? Why don’t we make a deal?” says Vox, “Let's have a small game to see who’s the truest fan. If you win, I’ll give you the autographs, fake copies or not. But if I win… Well, the vinyl record belongs to me.”

Wait, what?

“Like I said, you cannot find any harder Imagine Sharks fan than me in Hell! Deal. Deal!”

Hold on, Vox. What the hell?

“Vee, what are you doing? I don’t have time for this. The stream will start soon! Let’s just fight our way out of this.”

“It’s okay, I’ll manage.”

“How are you so sure? Only the parasocial agree to this!”

Vox grins at her, “I know.”

Velvette isn’t sure how, things are a bit confusing - But somehow she and the woman are sitting at the opposite sides of the room with two bells in front of them. Did Vox prepare these beforehand?   

“Oh my God, you’re serious.”

“Welcome, my friends, to this little competition to decide the fate of Imagine Sharks’ rarest collectibles.” Who does Vox think he is, a gameshow host? He switches to a plastic-y voice with one sickeningly sweet tone, a cheering sound effect follows his every line. “Right here, we got two players, a long-time supporter of Imagine Sharks who’s the current owner of the limited edition vinyl record,” the cheering sound effect appears, “And at this side, my favorite girl and business associate, who knew absolutely nothing…”

“Wait, wait, wait, wait, wait. WHAT? Vo- Vee, I cannot be a player, I don’t know fucks about that stupid boy band!”

“How dare you!” The other woman gasps.

“Darling, do not interrupt the MC while they’re talking, that’s rude as fuck,” Vox rolls his eyes, “Our rules are very simple: After each question, the players will press their bells to claim their rights to answer…”

Velvette pulls his shirt, her teeth grinds into his ears, “Do-you-even want the record back??”

“C’mon, I trust that you can do it!” He whispers, “Just cheat or something, you’re good at that.”

“What’s the point of this competition if you don’t even play?” She asks, but Vox has pulled himself off from her grip, adjusting his clothes despite wearing a casual hoodie. Throwing him her most annoyed glance as possible, Velvette unlocks her phone, only for it to send her an error notification on the browser app.

“The players will press their bells to claim their rights to answer, and with each correct answer you’ll get one point. Of course if you give out the wrong answer, your opponent will have your turn. The first player reaching seven points wins. Now, are you ready?”

“Hold on Vee— Can’t get the fucking Internet to work…”

“Born ready!” the other woman chirps.

“Okay, first question. Where did Imagine Sharks’ first concert since the release of their thirteenth album take place?”

“What kind of first question is that?” Velvette sneers at the MC, who’s too smug to hear her voice. Her fingers run on the screen, but the slow connection cannot catch up with them, and as time passes by she’s still stuck on searching out what their thirteenth album is. The bell from across the room rings.

“Trick question,” the bosswoman smiles, “The first concert since the release of their thirteenth album officially occurred in Downtown Park, but got moved to City Hall due to sudden scream rain. The correct answer is City Hall. Only amateurs get this wrong.”

“Truly lives up to your reputation as a hardcore fan, and that’s one point for you, lady.”

Well, Vox better have another secret plan within. Because if he doesn’t then he is fucking insane.

And if those filthy losers out here don’t rip him apart, she will. For playing her like a fucking bitch. 

Velvette hardly closes her mouth.

“Second question…”

“Vee.”

“Who is the fourth member of Imagine Sharks?”

Okay, this one she can manage, just wait for the the circle to stop running–

“Diamond Finn,” the other woman says in confidence after ringing her bell.

“And that’s another point.” Velvette swears she’ll be on Val-level of violence if Vox ever uses that voice and the following sound effect again. “Third question, coming right up! How many pearls were there in Imagine Sharks’ MV ‘Meant To Swim’?”

“Slow down, bitch!” Where did he get the time to prepare those fucking questions?

“Oh yeah, I remember this question bubbling on Reddit back then. The answer is 24!”

“Bingo! Three in a row! Question number 4. What is the structure difference that makes sharks unique, more agile and just straight up superior compared to other types of fish?”

Velvette admits, she does get panicked sometimes. Nearly drops her phone on the table (Her baby!), she slaps the bell hard to the point her hand’s reddened. 

After calming herself down, awkwardness floods her as she realises her mistake. She bites her lips. Vox, her opponent and the goons lay their eyes on her. Velvette glares at them with her most destructive eyes, hoping that it’ll be a good placeholder. Vox’s expression (un)surprisingly doesn’t shift, he raises one eyebrow waiting for the answer. Wow. When we get back to the tower, Vox.

“Ca- Cartilage.” She breathes out, “Sharks have cartilage instead of traditional bone like other fish.”

Months ago Vox and she had a collaboration on body modification in sea creatures.

“Eh, that’s an easy question anyway,” her opponent scoffs.

“And that’s the first point for my dear friend!” Vox continues yapping, “A little trivia, skeleton is Imagine Sharks’ inspiration for their 2014 concert, where they ripped all the bones off from those who’d done them wrong for decorations…”

Okay, obviously she still has the advantage of speed. Her problem is that except in these general questions, she doesn’t have the slightest idea about this boy band whatsoever. Especially with the shitty connection. She checks her phone. 9:53. Hopes Vox knows what he’s doing.

Making use of him spewing nonsense to the whole room, Velvette gives Vox’s assistant a missed call to notify him. She sends him a text, which is immediately replied as expected. The eel, following her instructions, sets up three computer displays to ensure he catches up with all Vox’s words and to prepare for the next questions. She turns on her microphone.

“...very impressive, personally my favorite performance in 2023,” whatever that means, the other player seems to understand it all, “But hey, without wasting any of your time, here comes the fifth question: How many albums did Imagine Sharks release from 2015 to 2017?”

Hold it. Doesn’t need to press the bell instantly, let Vox’s assistant have time to prepare. The other woman has her hand on the bell but keeps it still, frowning to herself thinking of the answer. The moment that frown fades away, the bell on Velvette’s side rings. Speed. She’s got speed. Throwing a smirk at their dumbfounded expression, Velvette makes a quick glance to her phone for the answer from the eel.

“Two. Uh… one was called ‘Breaking Boats’ and the other one… what the hell is this… ‘Coral Oral’?”

Ding ding ding ding. Ha. They so win this.

“What was the special merch that was only sold in Valentine 2016?”

“Imagine Sharks’ limited cologne.”

“What is the main animal on the cover of their 9th album?”

“A golden seagull.”

“Who was Imagine Sharks’ third manager since they were officially founded?”

“A golden seagull… Oh wait… That’s the answer from the previous question.” Vox’s assistant hasn’t sent the answer for that question yet. Since Velvette cannot provide a correct answer, her opponent arrogantly spells out the name, adding more useless facts around it no one cares. 

So on and so forth. Vox goes back to the basic questions such as ‘what is number X member’s favorite song based on some random interview’ or ‘what is album Y’s main inspiration’, which gives Velvette more advantage. Those trivias spread everywhere across the fanmade website, and Vox’s assistant finds them with little difficulty. Even so, the other woman’s fangirling is as strong as an angel, and she effortlessly balances the score with her.

“Okay, now both our players here are tied at 6 points, so this question will be the tiebreaker - also decides the fate of our sea foam printed limited edition vinyl record,” says Vox, “Last question: Where is…”

“Hold on!” one of the woman’s goons points at Velvette, “She’s got a phone on her!”

“Um, duh?” Velvette shrugs at them.

“She must be searching for the answer! That’s cheating.”

“Oh hell no, I’ve been with my phone for the whole time and now when I’m near winning you suddenly have a problem with it?” She deletes her conversation with Vox’s assistant. Honestly? She’s surprised they didn’t realise it sooner. She almost thought that her opponent just let it slide because that bitch was arrogant or something.

“Girl, what the hell?” Vox raises an eyebrow at her. She rolls her eyes.

“She definitely is!” More henchmen shout. Well, at least now she can wipe them out with more satisfaction.

“I think this deal is sus as fuck,” now it’s the bosswoman’s turn to open her mouth, “Why does your side get to make the questions? It would be fairer if both sides can ask questions.”

“Congrats, bitch. You just realise something that you should have had a problem with 30 minutes ago when the game started. Now we’re almost done and the deal is closed!” 

“Actually, we can still make a last-minute change.” As she says, one big henchman grabs Vox’s arm.

“Hey, hey, hey, hey,” Velvette stands up, “Let him go.”

“No need to get your pants in a twist, just a little rule change,” the woman smiles, “Now we’re at a tie, so I will be the one who asks this last question. If you can answer, you win. Of course, no phone.” One of the goons try to get close to her phone, but Velvette hisses them off.

“I don’t fucking get it. If you want a fair fangame or something, do it with my friend,” she points at Vox, who looks annoyingly chill for someone who is held hostage, “He’s into that boy band…”

“The game host doesn’t get to play the game. Are you in or not?”

Should have told Val to blow up this fucking place. Well, she could do it later. “Fine.”

The connection is useless so she can hardly summon anything. A spell helps better. Attack the goon holding Vox first, then tear off the other ones. Yes, that’s the way.

“Okay… what should I ask you?”

Velvette isn’t sure how strong is this woman - But in this area, obviously not as half of Prick or Hatchet. Still, she must be significantly stronger than the henchmen, so she’ll be the priority. The others are not worth caring, a simple spell is enough to wipe them out. Although the mess following is annoying, nothing their PR team cannot deal with.

“Who was the costume designer for Imagine Sharks for their concert in 2024?”

Velvette opens her eyes wide. She stares at Vox - who grins at her - then to the other woman, then back to Vox.

She remembers Vox whined to her after that, she took his words with a grain of salt. She doesn’t recall exactly what happened, but Val had to be the messenger between them for two or three days.

“Imagine Sharks wanted to invite Hell’s most popular fashionista - Velvette of the Vees - to design their concert outfits, but she simply didn’t have time for your ridiculous band. So naturally, they had to go for the cheaper, far more inferior option, a mediocre designer named Andrew or something, I don’t know, afer all, he’s kinda outdated, isn’t he?”

Why did you reject them? is one of the things Vox complained that day.

“And that’s the correct answer!” Vox’s voice raises up, the cheering sound effect follows him. He pulls himself off the henchman’s grip and flashes a smile at them. “Congratulations to my dear friend! She is the winner! Now, where is the record that we’ve expected… Ah, right, here is it!”

He gracefully lifts the thing from one of the goons, his smile now opens wider, “Careful with my sea foam printed vinyl record with real embossed bubble patterns, this baby is rarer than angelic weapons!” 

The other woman’s mouth gapes, “You…”

“Luckily we made a deal, didn’t we? Or else your boys will become feral dogs,” Velvette puts on her sunglasses, “Bye, bitches.”

She takes a glance at the McGuffin they’ve been chasing the last two and a half hours. Even though she wants nothing more than going back to the limo as soon as possible, she expected Vox to look at it with more excitement instead of simply tossing it inside his shirt, especially after the effort they’ve put in. They go back upstairs, where loud music and smells of body fluids knock into her senses. 

She’s surprised. That goes smoother than she originally thought. The henchmen don’t chase after them, the boss doesn’t get violent, and there’s nothing getting destroyed in the whole process. Except for this bar when Velvette goes back to V Tower. She stretches her arms. The perks of being organised - she has time to squeeze in some side quests since everything is already fully prepared, as Melissa just rechecked and informed her. There’s nothing else to worry about.

Wait. “Vox, is there anything you wanna tell me?” she whispers, the bar music drowns out her voice.

“Hm? Why do you ask?”

“Don’t be cheeky, babe. Back then, down there. Obviously you had some plan. You were so confident. Also fucking calm. What is it you’re hiding?”

“Vel, I have no idea what you’re talking about…”

“If you really wanna get the record, you will answer the questions yourself.”

Vox grabs her shoulders, “I know you are good at cheating. Now, don’t you want to get out of here? We can go grab lunch and you can interrogate me somewhere else.”

“Uh, no. I have a livestream, remember?”

“Right, right. Cannot skip it. Well, I’m kinda free right now, so… How about you go home first? I can stay outside for a while. Then I’ll call the limo to take me home. Safely.”

Velvette raises an eyebrow at him, “Vee, the whole reason I’m tagging along is because you can’t go outside by yourself.”

“I will stay inside the limo, I’m not a fucking child!” he grits his teeth, “You use your hologram portal… or whatever… and go back to the tower.”

“...Vox, calm down. It’s lunch time, and…” she frowns, “Val must be on his break right now. Let’s head home first and see if he’s available.”

Vox closes and opens his eyes, then breathes out, “Yeah, sorry. I just… Let’s do what you say. But hey, can we talk about something for a minute?”

“Talk about what?”

“Some company’s matters. Don’t stand here, we’re too exposed,” he gestures to under the stairs, “Let’s go there.”

They walk to the stairs. “How about we talk in the limo…”

A force shoves her back, and half of her face smashes into the wooden wall. Before she can stand up, it creaks open and reveals an entrance. Velvette yelps. Letting out a string of coughs, she rubs her eyes before realising the well-lit room she just falls inside.

She blinks. The room is wooden like the whole bar outside, having no furniture but also no dust. Seems it’s recently maintained to repurpose. She rolls her eyes hard. Seriously, Vox? This trick is older than Zestial. She pushes on the door that she went in with.

She frowns.

The thing has turned into stone. Velvette turns around. The whole room has changed into white stone, leaving no marks or patterns to identify. It takes someone four or five turns and the person inside will be totally disoriented. She opens her phone. The signal fails, unable to pass through six tight-shut white surfaces.

Run.

Okay, but like, that’s it? Just run? There must be something else he can do.

How is there something else? It won’t take long for her to get out of it, just fucking run. 

Sure. But run to where?

Man, you planned all this shit and you don’t have a plan for this moment?

Of course he does. It’s No Tuft zone. Walk 10 steps and you’ll see like 5 bars. Though he has to run farther for her not to find out.

Running shouldn’t take this much energy, though.

Since the Internet is down, Velvette cannot summon power from there to break the walls. The hand emoji thrusts its knuckles into the stone, then floppily crumbles under her feet. She groans and chases it away. A bomb is not practical. Note to herself: adding a wrecking ball emoji to the list.

Velvette casts a spell on the floor, its pattern spread on the white floor. A blast hits the wall that she’s sure it’s the entrance. A pieceof stone falls out, leaving a large section coming loose. She covers her hair, dust fills her nostrils and causes her to cough. When she opens her eyes, the dim dive bar greets her again.

Except this time there’s no loud music, no noisy chatters and no disgusting crowds. To be clear, there are no people at all. The bar is abandoned.

What the hell?

She wonders if the stone box teleported her somewhere else, but the decorations are the same. Ocean theme. She slowly walks around. Squeaks can still be heard from her shoe soles, but this time there’s no sounds drowning them out. Tables and chairs aren’t that well-arranged, so they left in a hurry. She takes a look at the basement. No overlord wannabe or henchmen, only the huge fish tank in the corner.

Velvette steps outside. Two bouncers they left there have disappeared. Their limo parks right in front of the entrance without cover or stealth. She knocks on its window, and it rolls down, revealing their driver with cheeks covered in blood.

“Where’s Vox?” She pulls his shirt.

“I don’t know! He stabbed me in the eyes after we talked!”

“Talk? What did he say?”

“He told me to give you this,” the driver holds his regenerating left eye with one hand, the other hands her an envelope. Velvette tears it off, the paper inside contains Vox’s angular handwriting.

Velvette, go to your livestream. It’s important. If the PR team overworks again we will have to wait for them to regenerate.

Don’t bother to find me. I’ve gone quite far. 

I have a phone on me but it’s not a smartphone, so don’t get your hopes up. I will call back when needed, but I’ll call the limo to get me home later. You don’t have to worry about it. Tell Val I’ll be there for dinner, I already promised him.

Velvette takes a motherfucking deep breath. The envelope burns in her hand. She turns on her phone.

“ETHAN!!” she screams, “Search all the cameras around the coordinates I send you. Finding Vox, understand?”

“Ma’am, we can’t.”

“Why?”

“Mr. Vox had asked to lock all cameras several kilometers around the coordinates you send today,” the eel’s voice shivers.

“...When?”

“A week ago, I think. He also told me to tune down the wifi signal in the area…”

If Velvette was Val, she had crushed her phone and torn off the driver. She climbs into the limo.

“Where do we go, ma’am?”

“Wherever I can get my connection back. Out of here. Fast,” she grits her teeth, “Now go!”

The driver nervously turns around, wiping out the blood on his face. Velvette swipes her screen. The loading screen rolls like rolling wheels. She taps her foot on the car floor, the velvet chair cover got torn under her nails. After hundreds of reloads, it stops sending error notifications. She opens her GPS, accessing the address of the collectible shop Vox had sent. A hologram portal appears, and Velvette dismisses her driver before stepping in.

The shop is the same from before, the cashier still has his earphones on, unbothered. She looks around to ensure no other guests are here, then plunges into the shopkeeper, his earphones get tossed aside. She grabs him by the shirt and pulls him to a corner behind the keychain rack.

“The shark themed vinyl record we asked you earlier,” she hisses into his ears, “Where do you get it from?”

“I don’t know! I don’t know!” he wiggles, “I never had it!”

“What do you mean?”

“It’s not from us, I swear! Someone paid me to tell you guys it’s ours!”

Velvette’s hologram knife presses into his spine, “Who?”

“I don’t know!” He sobs, “Each time they called it’s a different voice!”

Her eyes widen. The shopkeeper shakes, his lips clash into each other to find something more to say, “But… I think it’s the same person. The demeanor is similar. It’s like… they switched between many voices.”

Velvette throws him onto the floor. Rows of racks get knocked down, a purple splash of energy sweeps through shelves of goods and burns them down. 

“FUCKING MOTHERFUCKER!!”

The taste of whiskey barely does anything on his tongue.

The atmosphere in this place is a world apart from V Tower. There are no shiny glass windows, devices lurking around in corners, and unremarkable employees lowering their heads walking in the hallways. Only rogues and vagabonds throwing glasses around. Honestly, he’d rather be here. The only downside is 90% of their “booze” is tea.

The funny thing is, having his powers gone is his only chance to set a foot on a place like this. Past him went out for luxurious partying, hot dinners and PR events. Where there are powerful people he can associate with. Not pathetic sinners seek out a fight every moment in their lives, just to be easily wiped away like insects.

It’s only fair. Vox at the moment is on the same level with the latter. Probably worse, their names are at least untouched and not triggering an angry mob.

He gulps more of the watered down liquor, the taste makes him wince. He checks his feature phone and its physical buttons. His inbox is not as busy as before, different from his work email which is constantly spammed with death threats. There are only unread messages from one person.

Hi baby ❤️

I sent u the accounting reports

In your other email

I already checked it but you take a look just for sure

Also the meeting minutes this morning

I and ethan r workin on it

How do u work with that bitch for so long hes annoying

Ill send it to u later

Also why did vels assistant tell me to cancel her livestream

Are u 2 having other plans??

U guys hanging out without me

Bitch

Vox doesn’t answer. Val will forget about it before he comes back, probably. Stupid Velvette. Why does she have to cancel the livestream? It takes weeks to prepare another one. And the company’s been expecting it for so long. He had explicitly told her not to do it in the note.

No one takes his words seriously anymore, do they?

Vox downs his glass, tugging his hoodie tighter then slumping his head down on the counter. He wants to order another drink, but a real drink, not that tea-based liquid the bartender gave him. Vox listens to the music they open. A soothing melody of jazz, but it makes him uncomfortable.

“Bitch, get the hell outta here.”

Vox lifts his head up. Nothing impressive, just some of the insects hanging at this place.

“Why?”

“You’re sitting at our boss’ usual place,” they growl. Vox takes a glance at the empty row of barstools.

“How?” He chuckles, “Is he also the emo type who’s sulking alone in the middle of daytime?”

It’s a habit. His words bring him far, sometimes too far. He’s not yet used to going to the public with his new position.

“Are you fucking sassing with me?” the rogue grabs his hoodie, threatening to pull it off. Vox pushes his hand away and tugs it back, which angers the guy more.

“Hey now, just saying, the counter seats are always the favorite, aren’t they?” He flashes a smile, trying to work on his charms, “Here, take it, y’all won’t have to see me anymore…”

He’s casting pearls before swine. The rogue kicks him off the barstool, his back hits the hard floor. Vox stands up and steps back. He tries summoning static in his hand. Silent.

If it was Val who lost all of his powers and status, he would still dominate this place. His four arms would still crush these idiots’ skulls, or pierce several bullets into their chests. Vox’s got nothing. A soft, weakened body that’ll break in a note.

He has no other choice than to throw hands if he wants to come home in one piece.

The dumb motherfucker is out there, alone, powerless with no surveillance cameras for security. Because Velvette’s life is not eventful enough.

She had given Vox’s assistant a good scolding for following that reckless scheme and not bothering to inform Val or her. Speaking of Val, she doesn’t dare to tell him yet. She doesn’t want any overreaction or screaming or sobbing. Instead she told Ethan to send a small searching team in secret.

Find My Phone is not an option. Her only clue is that Vox has locked cameras around that dive bar with a radius of 5km, so he doesn’t run too far. No one else has access to them, since Vox had set a password for it. Velvette searches for his phone’s serial number. Why the hell can a brick phone have its place inside VeeTek? She’s never seen one since the foundation of the Vees, but surely whatever Vox uses is the company’s product from many years ago (He cannot be that careful). She summons the digital portal and teleports back into his floor. Vox’s assistant drops his coffee mug when she appears, still finding a way to turn on the cameras.

Velvette transfers that task to an IT guy so she and Ethan can rummage through records of the company’s old phone models. Much of the information had been deleted through time, or through scandals, or destroyed in the incident-which-must-not-be-named. Vox didn’t mention anything about the phone to his assistant, so they have to work from scratch. It’s like looking for a needle in the haystack. Every time she thinks they already round up all the models, a new one pops up (That’s VeeTek for you). Even if they do find the right model - which production date, which batch, which storage? Dear God, Vox didn’t leave them a clue.

“Could it be his old phone back in the days?” She asks his assistant.

“No, ma’am, that one was already broken.”

Velvette frowns. “Is there any warehouse around here that keeps these? He must get the phone from somewhere.”

“All the warehouses were dismantled a while after we discontinued these models, ma’am. In my opinion, Mr. Vox had borrowed it from someone else… Or asked an employee to buy it for him. You know, since he can’t go out…”

If that’s the case, it’s unlikely Vox hadn’t gotten rid of that employee beforehand. A stubborn moron even at his age. Vox’s assistant recoils when she breaks the glass window by a fist emoji, strings of curses come out from her mouth. Maybe she should do what the fucker told. Ignore him and he may crawl back home safe and sound at the end of the day. 

Velvette shakes her head chasing the tempting idea away. This is Hell. It’s physically impossible to have nothing happen. She wants to strangle him when seeing him again. For daring to touch those outdated devices just to hide from them. The thought drives her mad even more. 

She imagines the Vox she saw before and his weirdass hoodie, with his shiny newest model of flatscreen, holding a brick phone from decades ago. The image is borderline ridiculous, she almost lets out a snort. It makes more sense with his former heads.

“Ethan. Is his aerial functional?”

“His… his antenna? It certainly is, ma’am. Though… I’m not sure if they’re actively sending signals. Because the… TV… is not used for that purpose?”

“They should be. Didn’t he use them to control the activities of 666 News from afar two weeks ago? He must have them on constantly.”

“That’s… possible,” Vox’s assistant says, “But what do we do…”

“If we’re lucky - We can track him down with a simple radar,” Velvette wonders whether the crazy smile on her face makes her any more gorgeous in a way she isn’t fond of.

“But ma’am! There are thousands of TVs in No Tuft zone, we cannot find the correct one–”

“We already narrowed down the area, and the searching team will narrow it even more.” She steps to the glass walls where Vox’s former heads are displayed. Unlike Val, Velvette hasn’t had the honor to see him switch his head. “What is his usual frequency?”

“Uh…”

“You don’t know? God you’re fucking useless. What do we even pay you for?”

They activate the most recent in Vox’s head collection, at the same time calling for a tech team to detect its radio frequency. Velvette half-expected Vox’s face popping up when they turned it on, but the screen functions like a normal TV. Unless he actively changes it, the radio waves should be stable. After finding out the right radio wave, the tech team goes on their way to quickly create a Vox-detected radar. The process is requested by her to be a complete secret, and explicitly not to let Val know. Vox’s assistant checks for the cameras to see if he’s in his studio. Luckily despite being the CEO, Val doesn’t adopt Vox’s habit of stalking. He prefers to do it face to face. Velvette laughs like a maniac as six bright spots simultaneously flash, all pointing to Vox’s head cabinet. She contacts the searching team, crossing out the locations they had searched on her map.

Since Vox’s assistant fixes the Internet connection of the area, Velvette’s GPS has returned to normal. Walking around on heels this whole time finally pays off - it helps with the amount of running she has never experienced before. In No Tuft zone, bars rise faster than any kind of shop, and if people forget the name of one, chances are that they’ll never find it again. She constantly summons hologram portals, using emojis to catch her when she jumps off roofs. The clock on her phone greets her every time, each a different number. Velvette feels like moving on a toddler’s feet.

More dots appear on the radar. She has tricked herself thinking this could be useful. Mud splashes on her combat boots - she doesn’t have time to change another pair. Five out of six new dots are outdoor aerials, as Velvette can spot from standing on the rooftop of a building. The sixth one is in one of countless unremarkable bars. She groans. Too many times she wastes time barging inside just for it to be an old model screen with indoor receivers instead of the TV she’s looking for. The hand emoji brings her to her thousandth bar she’s stepped into that day, eyes moving around uninterested.

There is no screen. A figure in a hoodie stands in a corner, their head shows a very specific shape.

Holy fuck, it actually works.

Velvette cannot see his face clearly, but Vox sure struggles. He grabs a chair and smashes in a rogue’s head, the man staggers but not falling, instead growling at him. Vox steps back, his breaths pour out like rainwater. Two other guys plunge towards him, prepare to throw punches into his face, but getting stopped by a giant purple hand. If fly swatter emoji were a thing, Velvette had used it to put those insects in their place. Seeing their mates’ corpses stick to the wall, the rest scream and run away for their lives.

Vox stares at her, breaths are still undeniably fast. Smell starts to rise and blood starts to drip from the wall where she crushed those guys, seeping into its lime layer.  The bartender lets out a sigh.

“Let’s get out of here,” she says. Vox follows her.

Vox covers his eyes from the sudden sunlight when stepping out. Velvette grabs his wrist and drags him away, her other hand swipes her phone to call their limo. They glance around to make sure there are no nosy eyes. She pulls him to a filthy alley. Vox loosens his hood, his flatscreen leans against the wall.

“You’ll have to answer,” she’s surprised at how calm she sounds. Vox rolls his eyes. A corner of his screen is broken, leaving static marks on that area. He purses his lips looking for the right words.

“Ok, fine, fine, ye, I plan this from the beginning,” he raises his hands in defeat, “That jellyfish in the thrift store? It’s an employee. Though you don’t see him as much since Val usually borrows him.”

“How about the dive bar? Did you rent that place?”

“No, it’s one of Val’s former film sets. You don’t notice because it’s not officially the company property anymore. I like the vibe so we redecorate it… Sometimes we do role-play there.”

Velvette pinches her supposed nose bridge, then takes a deep breath. She squints at him, “Are you fucking insane?”

“Please understand, Velvette. I’ve been in the goddamn tower for months, and God forbid I have some real time outside instead of spending the whole trip in the fucking limo,” he chuckles, “Though I admit, I went a little too far.”

“Too far? Too far?” Oh here we go, her blood has come back to boiling, “Do you have any idea how much damage you’ve caused on me and the company, you bastard! I suppose you do know, right, you even said it in your letter! And then you still fucked off to who-know-where. Does that what stupid mean? Because it’s what you are, you stupid motherfucker!”

“I explicitly told you not to follow me. Just go home. Take care of the company like the amazing boss you are.”

“Shut the fuck up,” she snaps, “I might admit I’m wrong if you proved even just a little bit you are fine. But no, I barged into that disgusting bar and you were basically getting floored by those filthy lowlifes. If I didn’t get there on time…”

“Oh, now you wanna talk about achievements? Perfect pretty you do everything around here, don’t you?”

She grits her teeth, “Don’t be a fucking arsehole. I don’t even need your thank you, I…”

“...want me to say I’m wrong?” He laughs, “I’ll do both. Let me worship you, awesome mighty Velvette. You had done such a beautiful gesture running around to save Vox’s pathetic ass, because he’s obviously too fucking useless to do anything for himself, which honestly, what’s for? It’s not like he has any help right now, doesn’t he?”

Velvette stares at him, “The hell’s wrong with you?”

“What’s wrong with me?” His laugh grows louder, in a minute she’s afraid someone out there will hear them, “Why do you even care, things are going too well for you!”

“What are you talking about?”

He turns away, “I have to stay in one place, stuck in an endless spiral while you two move on with your lives. Do you have any idea how it feels to wake up every morning seeing all the people around you already get up to work, and you just stay there, still in your goddamn sleepwear because you have no contribution whatsoever? They cut me off from everything. The fucking company was mine, Velvette, and suddenly I have to wait, to rely on them to hand me tasks. I don’t have any power or control over anything anymore, and I can’t do shit to change that. Hell, I can’t even deal with some filthy insects at the bar alone without your help. I can’t even go outside without someone tagging along like a goddamn nanny! It’s the most 3mb@r-r-rassing feeling ever!”

“Vox.”

“Let me tell you about Valentino,” Vox wipes his face, “He’s a dense motherfucker, but boy, does he improve. He screwed up terribly at first, but he’s getting better. The CEO job is only that much. Every file Ethan sent me recently, all the decisions Val referenced me - I looked inside and there’s nothing for me to fix. He knows all the basics. Have you seen his aPpr-r-r0v4l ratings lately? Hah - of course you have. Those stupid bastards swoon over him as if he has ways to spread his pheromones through screens. My name still isn’t less of a slur when it rolls out of their tongues. It’s been m0nThs, Velvette, it’s not getting better, one day I’ll be completely left behind while Hell moves on and it’s kicking because it doesn’t have to eNd-d-uRe me!”

“Oh my God, Vox! Shut up! Do you hear yourself?”

“No. You hear me! No one bothers to listen to me anymore. My words have no value now, aren’t they? Because they’re only worth something when the person saying them is worth something. It used to be my biggest weapon, Velvette–” he stops, a sob escapes from his mouth, “And now it can’t save me from being a fucking pathetic, failing, jobless embarrassment!”

He throws himself on the ground and hugs his knees. Velvette stares at his shrimp-like posture. She feels like giving him a smack in the face… Well, she doesn’t want to have the shards from his broken screen cut her hand. She sits down next to him. The silence is torn apart when their driver pushes the horn of their limo. When he lowers the car window, she finds his eyes have come back to normal. 

Velvette gives Vox a little nudge. Despite the stuffy air inside, Vox covers himself and rolls into a corner of the car. She moves her attention to her phone instead of to him. One moment she glances at him. He doesn’t look back. In fact, Vox is burying his flatscreen in the large hood.

Fuck it. Velvette has followed him all the way here. She will follow him till the end of the trip.

“Hey Vox,” she raises her voice, “Do I look pretty right now?”

Vox shifts his head. His broken screen is healing. He frowns at her, “Uh… Yes? What is it? Some kind of mind game?”

“I’m serious. Am I pretty enough to be in a meeting or a press conference right now?”

“Uh huh…” he sighs, “You look great as always.”

“Really?”

“Yeah.”

“Do you genuinely think that?”

“Damnit, yes. I don’t know what game you’re playing. You never ask me this kind of question, why are you doing it now? I will think you’re pretty anyway.”

Velvette stands up, “Considering I have been in a total shit show today - Let me see, my earrings were taken off, I had to go to a trashy house, a fucking thrift shop, too many disgusting bars, and I only changed outfits once when going back to the tower. And I just remember - I have mud on my boots and I completely forgot to remove them.”

Vox avoids her gaze, “...Right.”

“I should have looked utterly horrible by now. But with your mediocre eyes, you still think I’m pretty, which the truth is, I am. Things get so high-maintenance that I forget I’m a natural beauty.”

“What’s your point?” Vox groans, pinching where his nose’s supposed to be. Velvette settles next to him on the bench.

“Sometimes we only see things we wanna see. When you have an idea for too long - it feels true to you.”

The limo runs over a pothole, causing a jolt inside. Velvette doesn’t dare to breathe, also doesn’t dare to look to her side to see Vox’s reaction. Her fingers fidget on her phone. 

Vox turns to her, “How are you so sure?”

“Of course I’m sure, I helped Val, too,” she says immediately, “Before the incident, he already had a job to do. Now he must be the new face and still takes care of his studio. Have you noticed the drop in the porn sales recently?”

Vox stays quiet. She continues, “It’s important he has someone else to help him. Your assistant is not enough,” she hesitates, “And… I know people. They don’t unite as much as you think. In fact it’s pretty fragile. There’s always a way to beat it.”

“But you don’t know when.”

“We have eternity to figure it out, don’t we?”

She rests her head on his shoulder. Vox closes his eyes. The crack on his screen has disappeared.

“...Sorry,” he says, “For your livestream.”

“Uh huh.”

“Did you tell Val about this?”

“…No. I don’t want to babysit both of you.”

“Thank God,” he sighs with relief, “Let’s not tell him about this, shall we?”

“Couldn’t agree more.”

He bites his lips, “Also… sorry for dragging you over half of the Pentagram City.”

“I’m having questions. So… the vinyl record is already yours and you just hired people to prepare this wild goose chase, right?”

“Yeah. Got it from the black market several years ago.”

“That’s some good acting.” Vox nods in agreement.

“So, back then when I rejected that boy band…” says Velvette, “Are you still mad about this?”

“No, I’m not that petty,” he laughs, “I just figured that a question you knew the answer to.”

“I didn’t know you liked that band.”

“I wasn’t open about it to be honest.”

“…At least we still have the record. Let’s see that as me beating your stupid game.”

“Uh, about that…” Vox scratches the back of his head, “I kinda lost it. Back then at the bar. When those guys… you know.”

Velvette’s eyes turn round, “Say what?”

“They took the record. Should have used a fake copy. It’s okay, I’ll tell Ethan to…”

“But why? What do they even need it for?”

“Why? My dear Velvette, do you know how much it’s worth?”

“Hold on, hold on!” She grabs his shirt, “I spent my whole fucking morning chasing that stupid record, and yoh told me you lost it? Are you serious?”

Vox grins at her. She pushes him away, strings of curses pour from her mouth. “Stupid… dickhead… wasting my time…” she pulls out her phone and presses call. “Melissa, cancel my afternoon schedule! I don’t fucking care how… Press conference? Ask the damn CEO!”

“Uh, darling, do you think it’s a wise choice?”

“Now, you listen here, Vee,” knives shoot out from her eyes, “Are you going to sit there, and let those bastards do whatever they want with your property, or you lock the fuck in and give them a fucking lesson for the rest of their eternity like the overlord you are?”

The door is kicked open.

Vox isn’t bothered to notice what the building he just barges in looks like, only pays attention to the men inside scattering like a flock of chickens. Velvette has made him a mask that fits into his odd-shaped head, for him to change into “something more fashionable than a shitty hoodie”. She gave them suits and boots. Vox cannot shoot out static anymore so Velvette lends him one of her gun emojis. She follows after him, her hands are coated in a green mystical light. 

How do you make the most of your power without revealing your identity, he had asked her. To which she changed all her magic into green. She despises green with a passion. So does Vox - the Vees’ color pallette is blue, red and purple - no green. No one would recognize Velvette since green is a color she never puts on. Even so, the woman looks absolutely fabulous in her dark green suit, and with her hair still the same pink color, she reminds him of a rose.

As a result, the rifle he holds is also green. Two or three rogues plunge towards him - No, Vox doesn’t care to notice their faces - He fires his guns into their skulls. 

It’s been very long since Vox last killed with his identity covered and blood coating his body. For many decades, every kill he made was in the private space of the company - discreet and secret, and no suits are allowed to be dirty whatsoever. He had forgotten the thrilling chase of taking a life from a total stranger, while at the same time trying to hide the traces from the world. This evokes vivid memories back when he was inexperienced and young.

Val wouldn’t like this though. Rifles are too unsexy to him. Velvette pierces her knives into the running ones, leaving each of them looking like a pin cushion, then pulls their hair back to start interrogating.

Vox takes the vinyl record into his hands. They laugh like that one time they almost took over the world.

They can always try it again in the future.

Velvette stretches her arms. Her four limbs are gonna need good maintenance after how much movement she pushes on them today. Vox hands her their shared bag of fries. He had ordered a coke for his drink and now tries to get a taste from hers, but not a chance in Hell she lets him touch her bubble tea.

“You sly cabróns,” Val jumps out, his lips pout to the max, “Can’t believe you two leave me out like that.”

“Don’t get offended, babe, it’s not as exciting as you thought,” Velvette shrugs. Vox tries to wrap Val’s two lower arms around him, but Val pulls back, avoiding the blood splashed on the suit.

“Gah! What did you two even do?”

“Don’t worry about it. Did anything happen while we were away?”

“You guys cannot believe what I must go through today,” he purrs, “Those whiny bitch customers kept insisting on seeing me! As if I had time to satisfy their sick fantasies! Anyway, I had to give them a coupon for two months of porn subscription!”

“You fucking what?” Velvette stops chugging pearls from her drink.

“Val, you cannot slap a porn subscription on everything…”

“Not everyone is into it! Especially those prudes...”

“They will think we’re unprofessional, you understand? Unprofessional!”

“…And the Karens, they think they’re rich enough to act like us!”

“Where the fuck was Ethan? He needed to inform you—”

“Ugh, I hate it when you two agree with each other to be against me,” Val whines, “If they don’t like it then I force them to like it, as if it’s hard.”

He sways his hips away, one hand punching an employee passing by. Vox shrugs and follows him. Velvette sighs. After a hot bath, she’s gonna drag both those idiots for a Swedish massage. They all need it.