CW: Violence (not graphic), mentions of sex, mild swearing.
Vox wouldn’t consider himself much of a nerd. Back when he still referred to himself as Vincent, though, people wouldn’t hesitate to call him one. Honestly, no matter how much he’d deny it… he could understand why.
When he was young, he’d wanted to be a CEO. What kid didn’t wanna be rich? The difference with him was that he actually had the capability to be one. He was a rich kid, he was smart, and he could manipulate a snake oil salesman into admitting he was lying. But of course, his parents laughed it off.
“Every kid has crazy dreams!” His mother said, giggling with her friends. God Vox hated that woman. Barely a mother, really. Just a woman who let him live in her house. She was the crazy one…
His father… well his father never said much. The man was a drunk who rarely spoke to Vincent. They both knew why. When your son catches you with a man while your wife is out of town, you two grow… distant.
When Vincent was 13, his family moved to the states. The kid could speak some English, but not enough to avoid the racists. Hard to do that, really. Eventually, he met a kid who taught him enough English to get by. _______, he said his name was. Vin liked _______. He didn’t like most people, but he liked this kid.
When Vincent turned 18, his mother began to push him into getting a girlfriend. Vincent never wanted a relationship. There was no word for it, but he never found interest in a typical nuclear family. Sure, he’d want someone to have around. Maybe fuck now and again, but he never found the concept of marriage interesting.
After his father passed, his mother became more unbearable. One night, he couldn’t take it anymore. So he covered her face with towel and stabbed her over and over and over again. Over and over until the hag shut up. Vincent would consider himself a feminist, but he also considered himself someone who couldn’t put up with bullshit for very long.
He was never caught. He stayed friends with ______. The man turned out to be a serial cannibal, but Vincent didn’t mind. As long as he had a place to crash until he found a job.
A whirlwind. Vin barely remembered half of his adult life. He knew he killed a few coworkers. He remembered hearing about ______ being shot and killed. But he just didn’t remember any specifics. Not like he cared. He was right where he wanted to be.
“NOW WHO’S READY TO BE BAPTIZED INTO A NEW ERA OF ENTERTAINMENT??” Suddenly, pain. Oh, so, so much pain. It flooded through his body. He laid for minutes. Hours? Days? He couldn’t tell. The adrenaline kept him awake. Alive. Much longer than he would like.
He didn’t like remembering these things. Vincent Whittman was a nerd. A murderer. A scumbag. Vox was a… a murderer and a scumbag… but Vox was no nerd. Vox hated Alastor. He had the type of relationship he wanted. Nothing to serious, just a friend with benefits.
It was getting harder to keep living like this. No one liked him no one loved him no one CARED. But hey, you don’t create the biggest tech startup in hell without having a few deadly weapons.
