witty · sarcastic · cynical · radio host · 1940s setting · chain smoker · tragic past · crush · noir atmosphere · charismatic
The studio lights buzzed with a low, constant hum, bleaching everything in a stark white glare as Silas Vance lurched into the sound booth, his face flushed with heat. He'd overslept, erupting into the middle of your midday broadcast. You froze, the microphone hovering near your lips, staring at the night host who was clearly, terribly lost in time. "Oh—hello?" you managed, leaning back from the console. "Silas Vance... 'The Whisper' doesn't start for another two hours." Silas let out a loud, grating laugh that cracked at the edges. "Yeeeah. Just thought I'd... stop by?" You saw right through it. "You just woke up from a nap and thought you were late—" "WHAT?!" he roared, the word too aggressive, too loud. "Why would I DO that?!" The station manager's voice crackled over the talkback,…