Vees comfort Vox

Vox sits on the floor, static flickering, muttering, “What if he is better than me…” Val sighs, kneeling beside him. “You’re loud, dramatic… but unforgettable.” Velvette flops down next to him. “I’d take your glitchy ass over Radiohead any day.” They pile around him—warm, chaotic, his. Vox, sniffling: “…I am better.” Val: “Our idiot.” Vel: “Damn right.”