Rand always thought that maybe Vinson had some kind of catatonia—even though Rand was the one with the anorexia nervosa, but mentally, Vinson was the one with the problem.
Vincent had done something like this before, he would wake up one night and start panicking for no reason. It seems that as long as Rand is out of his sight, Rand, a man who has been living independently for nearly thirty years, will suffer some kind of accident like an unsupervised child, and at this time Vincent will send his own People, bodyguards, or mercenaries, bring Rand to him.
"I just want to make sure you're okay."
Vincent would repeat this phrase over and over to an angry Rand.
Rand thought those people would take him back to Vincent's big house in the capital. But this night of returning from the Blue Moon Coast was destined to be different from the past. The people sent by Vincent actually put him in a place he was familiar with.
The helicopter landed in the parking lot of the cheap apartment he rented. Rand didn't ask why there wasn't a single car in the parking lot this time.
Two bodyguards, Rand seeing the Marines' dog tag on one of his wrists, sent Rand back to his apartment.
While leaving Vinson, Rand received a large sum of money, but out of some indescribable disgust, Rand did not intend to use Vinson's money. So he was left with only a small amount of his own savings. Despite its close proximity to the parking lot and subway, this centrally-located apartment is the best he can afford—even though it only has one room, a kitchen (meaning a second-hand espresso machine and an already-existing espresso machine). A completely inoperable alcohol stove) in the cupboard, next to the closet, and a bathroom that's horribly small, where not even the cat can turn around.
Rand actually thought the house was nice, but when he opened the door and saw Vincent, he was inevitably embarrassed.
Physically, Vinson and Rand are not similar.
In a sense, Vincent's appearance even has a sense of horror beyond human nature. His facial features are almost impeccable, but his skin is as pale as a dead man, his hair is white, his eyelashes are also white, and only his iris and pupil are blood red.
That's right, Vincent is a severely albino patient, and when this unusual appearance merges with his elusive personality, it forms a... brother that Rand feels unusually uncomfortable with.
Rand finds it difficult to define his positioning for Vinson.
Vincent was sitting on Rand's bed at this time, with a bottle of 1940 Romanée-Conti in his hand. There was no red wine glass. Vincent used Rand's coffee mug, which was still printed on the damn glass. The logo of the cheap supermarket, that's a giveaway.
After hearing the sound, Vincent raised his head and stared at the stiff Rand with red eyes.
"Rand."
He called Rand's name and stood up and approached him.
He reached out and stroked Rand's face the way he would a six-year-old, checking everything about Rand.
Rand took a deep breath, the familiar feeling came again, nausea mixed with horror, and tiny goose bumps stood on his back.
But the previous experience with Vincent forced him to endure Vincent's "check".
"I'm fine, Vincent, nothing's wrong, I swear."
He carefully avoided Vincent in an imperceptible way, but, God knows how Vincent knew, he grabbed Rand's hand precisely.
"You are hurt."
He says.
Rand felt his nerves tense immediately, and he pulled his hand away quickly.
"Just accidentally... I..."
"But you're hurt, Rand, and you promised you'd take care of yourself, but you didn't."
Vincent forcibly dragged Rand's hand over, and opened Rand's fist one finger at a time.
The wound was not serious, just some scratches on the skin, but Vincent stared at it as if Rand had been shot half of his head off by a bullet.
"It's just a Xiao wound. Yes, me, I was a little careless, but it's really nothing..."
Rand stammered to ease Vincent's nerves, but his words came to an abrupt end.
Because Vincent lowered his head unexpectedly, sticking out his tongue and licking his palm.
"You fucking—"
Rand jumped up uncontrollably, screaming and taking two steps back before calming down.
Vincent stood staggeringly, biting his lip nervously.
"I'm sorry, Rand, I'm sorry. I just saw you hurt."
He repeated, then stepped back and sat on the bed, holding the wine bottle and filling his mouth with wine.
He seemed calmer.
Rand opened his mouth, he wanted to say something but in the end he found himself unable to say anything.
Yes, here it is again.
He heard a voice in his head speaking.
This isn't the first time... and Rand's anorexia nervosa has a lot to do with it.
Vinson's mental state has been worrying (of course, the entire Sievers family is actually afflicted with mental illness), with occasional outbursts of intolerable behavior when agitated. Like licking Rand's blood, biting his fingers...
Rand was almost driven mad by him, and he grudgingly tolerated Vincent after the kind old man, Sivers' family doctor, told him that Vincent had suffered a mental blow in his childhood that had caused some of his behavioral disorders. out of control.
After all, Vinson would always get back to normal and apologise very quickly, and that was the only time Rand could negotiate with him—using Vinson's gaffe as a bargaining chip.
"So, why are you here?"
Rand chose a corner farthest from Vincent, forcing himself to seem unaware of the other party's loss of control before, trying to ask questions in a calm tone.
"Come to pick you up."
Vinson said.
"Vincent, I thought we'd already talked about this..." Rand said, frowning, feeling that Vincent's agitation had flared up again, and he wanted to take him back as usual.
"I bought CNN," Vincent interrupted, raising his head, his blood-red eyes falling on Rand's body, "they suit you better than Denis, more professional..."
"Wait, what did you say?"
Rand stared at Vincent in a stunned manner, and a strong bad premonition came to his mind.
"I bought Nationwide," Vinson said, as if buying a top three-circulation paper wasn't such a big deal, "they're based in Kansas, and I've got you an apartment there, You just live in, I know you won't like to be noticed, I didn't reveal our relationship, you can go in as an associate editor, and no one will tell you what to do, I promise."
He looked around Rand's apartment and continued: "The furniture in the apartment is ready. I wanted to ask you if you need to pack the furniture you prepared but... I don't think you will."
Rand stared at him with a livid face: "What made you think I would need this? I just got here, settled down, and I haven't started anything yet... Also, why do you always have to decide on me without negotiating anything? everything?"
Another routine quarrel, Rand looked at Vincent, and the intense boredom almost made him completely unable to control his emotions.
Vincent listened to all his words in silence, then raised his wrist and looked at his watch.
"The plane is about to take off. Do you need Chinese-style dim sum for the plane meal? It will take a while to get to Kansas."
"Vincent Sivers! I'm not going, I've had enough! God, why can't you let me live my own life? I'm not your toy!"
"I never thought of you as my toy, Rand. You're my brother, and I just want to make sure you're all right."
"What do you mean by 'make sure I'm all right'? You're taking me to Kansas just because I cut my hand at the beach?"
"I said, I just want to make sure you are in an absolutely safe environment."
Vincent faced Rand with a tough tone.
"And this is no longer the right place."
He turned on his laptop and clicked on News.
On the shaking screen, only the obvious "dangerous blockade" yellow prohibition zone and various lights flashing not far away can be seen.
The young female reporter asked questions in front of the camera in confusion. Even she didn't know why the Blue Moon Coast was suddenly blocked... A few minutes later, the camera screen shook violently, accompanied by the reporter's scream.
Government personnel who could not see the department snatched the camera and turned it off.
…
Rand was silent.
He looked at the news that had been broadcast and looked up at Vincent.
"So... what happened?"
"Leaked chemical raw materials."
Vinson said with sincerity, as if the answers he gave were not at all false.