In a VIP lounge way up in a skyscraper, three men wearing expensive suits sat around a glass table covered with gadgets, half-drunk whiskey glasses, and papers. The whole city sparkled behind them through the huge window like someone spilled glitter everywhere.
The bald guy with a thick gold watch spun his drink around in his fingers before speaking.
"So, those number for next season look pretty good," he said, sounding bored but also kind of pleased. "If we sign that energy drink deal, we are looking at twelve percent more money."
The older silver-haired guy leaned back in his chair laughing, the leather creaking under him.
"Nice. But honestly? I just want to know if you are watching the game tonight."
The youngest guy, who clearly did not care, glanced at his watch and sighed. "Underground Breakball again? I have work tomorrow morning. All those matches look the same after a while."
The silver-haired guy's grin grew wider, like he knew something juicy.
