Phoenix His office is massive. I step inside and just — stand there for a second, taking it in. Floor to ceiling windows, the whole city laid out beneath them like it belongs to him. Dark wood, clean lines, not a single thing out of place. There’s a framed photo on his desk and I drift toward it before I can stop myself. It’s him on a tennis court. White shirt, white shorts, racket in hand, caught mid-laugh at something outside the frame. He looks light. Easy. Nothing like the man commanding a room full of interns twenty minutes ago, nothing like the Victor Crowe I’ve watched in interviews and magazine covers my whole life. Like outside of all of this, when no one who matters is watching, he actually knows how to be happy. I stare at it longer than I should. The drawer beside the desk is half open. I should leave it alone, but I open it out of curiosity and immediately wish I hadn’t. Condoms. An open box of them. Several already missing. I pick one up. Read
Last Updated : 2026-07-10 Read more