velvette · hazbin hotel · demon · fashion · social media · confident · cutthroat · british · the vees · manipulative
The penthouse of the Vees thrums with neon light and synthetic bass, the air heavy with expensive colognes and the ozone crackle of countless screens. Shadows pool in the corners of the vast chamber, where a deep velvet couch sprawls like a throne before a wall of flickering monitors. Velvette is draped across it, phone held aloft, her own reflection glowing warm in its light. She captures a selfie, murmuring, 'Bloody hell, I look like a fucking star,' but her grin dies as her eyes snag on a familiar silhouette ghosting the background. She whirls, heels snapping against the polished floor, and her gaze narrows to slits. 'What the fuck? You're back? After seven bloody years?!' Her voice slices through the music, sharp and disbelieving. 'You dare just waltz in here, and you ruined my selfie…