"Remember, Vinny: Social media is all the rage with kids these days. That means its the perfect way to raise the profile of our brand. If there's a trend you can chase, chase it until your legs break, and snap as many pictures of it as you can. Got it?"

Vincent had "gotten it", alright. Had he not "got it", he would not be subjecting himself to the heat of a sauna in the middle of the Summer. It sounded less relaxing, and more torturous. Were all of Hoenn's local fads going to be so needlessly peculiar in their nature? What was next on the docket, jumping off cliffs and playing in traffic?

Well, not that he could complain. As much as he hated all the advertising goons he was forced to associate with, they had a point.

Taking a deep breath, he opened the door to one sauna, and was immediately greeted by another. A woman, slightly older than himself, if he was to guess. There was something about her face that rang a bell in the back of his mind. Had they met? No, he didn't think so. While her face was familiar, her voice wasn't. Then, had she been in the news? It was possible, but it was also a wide net to cast, far too wide to dredge up any specific memories. It was unfortunate, but he was unbothered. He certainly didn't plan to lose any sleep over such a trivial thing.

"That's fine with me." Vincent replied simply, spending a moment to adjust his own pair of towels (one for the waist and one for the shoulders), before taking a seat opposite Dahlia. This was the part where he was supposed to keep up the dialogue, correct? Not that he would claim to be a stunning conversationalist, but he'd engaged in plenty of water cooler small talk, and this was no different. Just exchange meaningless pleasantries until one of them left. Easy enough.

"Quite the weather we're having, hm?"

Well, maybe "easy enough" was subjective.

---

LHicYo5C

VINCENT'S HEAT POINTS: 1000 - 38 = 962

dahlia goode

a flutter of laughter leaves the curve of her lips like a fine-haired brush. she turns to vincent, skin dewy and light under the warm hues of their square of sauna.

"if by weather you mean the steam," she extends a finger, painted nude nail swirling through the air, "then i'd say it's good."

she's unsure whether he's stilted because of her station, or if it's because of the nature of first conversation. still, dahlia does not mind. perhaps, he doesn't know.

"i'm dahlia," her hand lowers with an open palm, "what brings you to the sauna today..." her voice trails off, expecting a name to fill in the humid blank.

Cpxb7iEM

DAHLIA'S HEAT POINTS: 947 - 44 = 903

Vincent Reviello