kesjaric

Maybe the moth would actually do better. At least Valentino knew when to stop. And Valentino valued his partners, while Vox realized with a sharp, stinging pang: in his obsession with some radio-demon deer, he had completely ignored the people who were always there. And worse yet, the Vees hadn't tossed him into the trash like some obsolete hardware.

The sixth shot was poured but remained untouched. It sat on the bar, a silent reproach, the whiskey shimmering with a copper glow under the warm lounge lights. With a heavy sigh, Vox let his head drop, his screen thudding against the oak bar as if he wanted to inspect the micro-cracks in the wood. Sleep mode was begging to kick in, though he knew that "hangover mode" was lurking right behind it.

The screen stayed on, glowing a faint, flickering blue.

— VOX!

A woman’s voice, sounding more like the growl of a cornered beast, pierced the silence. Then, the front door slammed into the wall with a crash that sent a vibration through the floor.

— For fuck's sake! You...

A sharp, deep intake of breath. The clicking of heels on the floor grew louder. It wasn't Velvette — the footsteps were heavier, steadier. Someone much taller, someone with too many arms, someone Vox was probably most ashamed to face right now.

The former media mogul barely lifted his screen off the bar before a hand unceremoniously hauled him up. He was yanked to his feet, his back hitting a chest clad in soft white fur.

— Have you completely lost your mind?! — Valentino roared, dragging him away from the bar. The moth paused for a second, eyeing the untouched shot. With his free hand, he grabbed it and downed it in one go. — We’ve been looking for you all over the fucking Pride Ring!

— I was jus’... — the words came out clumsy, like a child struggling with a tongue twister. — Jus’...

— Let’s go, — Velvette snapped, grabbing Vox’s other shoulder.

Together, they hauled the drunken showman toward the exit. Vox tripped over his own feet, nearly taking Velvette down with him. To the sound of their muffled cursing, he suddenly let out a quiet, almost childish laugh.

— I lo-ove you guys... Srsly! — he slurred, his voice louder than it needed to be.

Velvette froze for a heartbeat, a flash of bewilderment in her eyes. Valentino went still too — hearing something like that from this egocentric prick was new. In his normal life, Vox was terrified of the word "friend," replacing it with "partner," "colleague," or "associate." Val blinked, his face softening for a split second before he caught himself. Avoiding eye contact, he tightened his grip on Vox to keep him upright.

— Oh, shut up... — the moth grumbled, though his pace slowed down.

— Moron, — Velvette exhaled, her voice quiet and almost fond.

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