The Funtom Company

24: The |Conference| Company

Vincent sat behind a table of microphones. There were flashing lights and cameras everywhere. This wasn't his first press conference but it would be the last one for a while, or forever, if Stein didn't figure out the cure in time. This didn't bother him. It was a good way to go, in front of a crowd that is. He would rather die a bit more flashy but...can't have everything.

"Mr. Phantomhive, is it true that you and Trader's Enterprise have been competing for control of this city?"

"Mr. Phantomhive, is it true that the picture was of your wife and Lau?"

"Mr. Phantomhive, have you been faithful to your wife? Are you upset with the fact that she was caught cheating? Or have you expected it since you yourself are unfaithful?"

The questions came one after the other. Vincent couldn't focus due to the heat of the lights. He was already sweating from the poison. This was not a good day to have to do this. Fuck you, Rachel. Fuck you. Vincent wished her a cruel and emotionless death.

"One question at a time please," he requested. He gestured to an individual in the crowd, he couldn't see who. His vision was starting to blur but by golly he was going to get through this if it was the last thing...wait, perhaps this was not the best choice of words.

"Mr Phantomhive, there are rumors that you have had affairs with your secretaries and that is the reason you go through so many in a short span of time. Could you explain that?" the reporter asked.

"I'm sorry," Vincent held his face in his hand for a moment. His shoulders shook and tears cascaded down his cheeks. "Affairs? Really? You're accusing me now? I've done nothing but love my wife and my children. I've been doing by absolute best in life. What have I done to deserve this?" Vincent wiped away his tears (and sweat) with his new handkerchief, (he likes carrying them around).

"I'm sorry, this is just a lot to take in," he took a deep breath in and exhaled slowly. "No, I do not have relationships with my secretaries. I hire them and then they quit on their own accord. Perhaps I'm too hard on them. Running a company is difficult work. I don't know. I can confirm that there have been a few in the past that have developed feelings for me, but I politely turned them away." Bullshit. If Adrian were there he would've duct taped Vincent's mouth and provided the truth, or his truth anyway.

"Mr. Phantomhive, what do you have to say about your wife's lover?" another reporter asked.

"Rachel and I haven't been doing well," Vincent wiped away his tears again. He played with the handkerchief in his hands. "We agreed to live separate lives for a while. I had no idea it would lead to this," he said. "Perhaps I was never good enough for her. I should set her free, but it's hard, you know?"

"Set her free? Can you elaborate? Do you mean a divorce?"

"I'm sure you've heard enough about the 'second' Funtom Company? Have you not?" Vincent began. "In my high school years I was neck deep in some pretty nasty things. Rachel saved me from all of that. She put me on the right track, so to speak, so I cannot blame her for wanting to be with a better man, considering some of the things I have done. So, yes, maybe a divorce is necessary. I don't know why I thought I was good enough for her way back then," Vincent sobbed again and blew his nose into his handkerchief. The reporters whispered amongst each other. Each of them feeling sorry for the man they were interrogating. He was a good man in some crappy circumstances. Their hatred for Rachel was beginning to blossom. All according to the plan. Vincent was surprised he'd managed that much. It wasn't his first plan.

"Mr. Phantomhive, does this confirm your high school rumors? Can you tell us about 'Diedrich'?" a reporter in the back asked. Vincent tried to squint and get a better look at him. The name pounded in his head. Memories he didn't wish to remember. Diedrich. Diedrich. Diedrich. The deep seated curse, the one thing he'd tried to block out permanently...

His eyes rolled back into his head and he fell to the side and onto the ground. A pool of sweat forming around him. The time limit on the poison was getting closer than ever. The reporters buzzed around him. They snapped pictures. Each one of them secretly glaring at the guy in the back, for traumatizing Vincent so bad that he passed out. Now they would never be able to ask more questions. Do you know how rare it was for Vincent to hold a conference like this?

...

Vincent woke up in a white room with an ice pack on his head. He was resting on the lap of his secretary. "Sorry, there wasn't a pillow and I figured my lap was the next best thing," Adrian apologized. "It must've been rough out there."

"Yes," Vincent closed his eyes again. "I had this all planned out so perfectly, but my plan dwindled away because of Rachel. That's fine, I'm sure they have enough reason to hate her. I'll figure something out in the future."

"So, are you finally willing to admit that you're sick?"

"Sick mentally or physically. Be more specific," Vincent laughed.

"Both."

"Ah, well that's a question even scientists can't answer," Vincent winked. "Speaking of scientists, your brother, did he figure it out?"

"He gave me this," Adrian held up a bottle. "He also said to tell you that the chances of it working are only 80% in your favor."

"Oh dear," Vincent grabbed the vial. "Well, you're here so that will make up for the other 20%." Vincent took the makeshift antidote.

"What do you mean?"

"Rachel poisoned me at the ball," Vincent finally explained.

"Holy shit!" Adrian stood up with such haste that Vincent's head crashed on the bench. Ow. "You just waited until now to tell me?! Oh my god! You could've died!"

"Still can," Vincent looked at his pocket watch. "We have about sixty seconds before we know if your brother is a miracle worker or not. Tell me, Uny, if I die will you preserve my body and try to bring be back to life?"

"Will you stop trying to be funny?! You could die! Does that not bother you in the slightest?!"

"No," Vincent answered honestly. "Not really, because I'm dying in your company, after all," Vincent winked. "Before I die," Vincent stretched out his hand to grab Adrian's. "I must warn you that Rachel will try to come after you. She threatened you before and she won't be pleased since I confirmed her affair. Be careful, will you? Promise me."

"Vin-"

"Promise me," he repeated.

"I promise," Adrian said.

"Thank you," Vincent smiled, truly happy. "I love you, Uny," he said, closing his eyes.