Impossible standards

Vice didn't think he would ever see the inside of Davi's bedroom again. It looked just like he remembered. But then again, Davi wouldn't have gotten any extra furniture or decor. He was above all of that.

Not above it, maybe. Just unconcerned with that kind of thing. Davi had a kind of razor sharp focus on his goals. Everything else was just a distraction. He didn't buy anything if he could steal it, and he didn't steal anything he didn't need. Even that bike of his had been something he took from a gig. Some pimp he killed, if Vice was remembering right. 

Vice ran his fingers over the nightstand while looking out the window. They were higher up than his own apartment, and the view was dizzying. For all his flights of fancy, Vice was someone with his feet firmly in the ground.