Transmission To Disorder (Vox x reader) (Vee's x reader)

Chapter 10

https://youtu.be/r5dNcKTcnPA?si=a9hqUTInDzHijRoh

You sat at your computer for some time looking at the send button. Boris was next to you, watching carefully as you hovered over the button. You had finished the album and it was ready to be sent to Vox. It was your first album and it would not be your last, but you were still sentimental about it all and how you made each song with so much love and care. It was all worth it to press send, which you finally did.

Boris let out a breath that he'd been holding. He had been anxious for this day the entire week. If that album you just sent wasn't up to par, which he doubted was, he would be in longer debt to Vox than he'd planned. "Good work." Boris let out a heavy sigh as you leaned back in your chair. He watched you nod with a smile. "Yeah, good work." You felt accomplished and for the first time in awhile. Your eyes wandered to Boris to see if he felt any sense of achievement. "What?" Boris smirks and you feel a little hot. He raises a stitched up eyebrow and you look away. "Nothing, just hungover." You scratch the back of your head as Boris hands you a cup of water he'd just made. You shook your head. "Nah." You push it away but he insists.

"You're dehydrated." He watches you take the glass in your hands, bringing it up and past your lips. "You can't possibly know that." You smirk and wipe your lips before setting the glass down. "Your left eye gets droopy when you don't drink enough water." You freeze. You had been told that before. A long time ago. Boris didn't seem to understand the gravity of his sentence and gave you a strange look. "Are you-"

"Don't talk about my eye again." You snap turning from warm to cold in seconds. Boris flashed a snarl before pushing up from his chair and storming out. He slammed the door hard behind him, making you jump. Whatever, you didn't need him now.

You waited for some time in your recording room. You weren't sure what for. The weight of releasing your album slowly came over you and you felt choked by the silence. You felt devoid of excitement and happiness, all feeling of accomplishment slipping down a drain. You were a horrible friend.
Why did you say that? What was your problem?

There was nothing from Vox, not even a conformation that he'd sent it to Gehenna Records. It was so quiet around you yet your head screamed. You wanted to hear a pen drop. Anything. Something other than your own head filling you with noise. Maybe you miss pressed the button?

You continued to sit in silence for an hour, waiting for something on the outside world to reach you. There was nothing. And the void in your soul grew. Had it all been for nothing? You didn't want to move. You didn't want to think. But your mind drifted into the dark.

You were scared he'd come back.

You weren't allowing yourself to think about him. You didn't want to. He had left you petrified. You didn't want to remember last night. The trauma of him taking your body, encapsulated you in a cycle of torment and fear shot you. You didn't recognize him or even know what the hell he wanted. But you knew he didn't have good intentions. He'd recreated your death just to tell you some bullshit. You rethought what he had said in your dream.

"Don't give it to them now darling."

He didn't want you to work for the V's. That you gathered. If you up and left them, he might stop bothering you. But that didn't seem like the best course of action. You still didn't know what his true and real intentions were. He had said you were capable of much more than music. Of course you were, but it was up to you to become more than it. That's not a path you had ever wanted to think of. You were no overlord, you didn't have the heart for it. There would be no point anyways, you cared for your fans, you didn't want to control them.

You had come to the random conclusion that he had to have been the one to give you your guitar from Earth, bringing it down to you in Hell. You didn't know why or how he did it, but you knew it was him. Who else could it have been? It made the most sense and you stuck with it, no matter how much you wanted to tell yourself that it had just been a mistake from God. God didn't make mistakes. Right?