Chromeskull

@jesseskullcromeans​ x Irina Tarasov

The fact that it was raining outside made Irina’s night even more boring. Her father, Viggo, the one that allowed her all the luxury that she encounter at every corner, had been insisting on her attending to one of the many Opera concerts from the Classic Week a refined festival taking part for seven days at one of the most destacable theatres of the town. He wanted her to cultivate her taste for elite arts meanwhile Irina, although she enjoyed playing the piano, was more interested in going to the Red Circle disco with her friends but that day, the father had presented himself at the mansion with two tickets. One for her, the other one for one of those friends but none of them wanted to leave their plans for party. 

Driving to this event was a hazel, because tonight was raining and he would have prefered to indulge into his more gruesome activities than listen to snobish people talk about themselvs.

Spann insisted, explaining to Jesse that it was benefic for the organization.

Seeing the theater, he quickly parked his Chrysler 300 in a hurry to get this over with. Opening the door, he stepped out, not fazed by the rain.

He was ready to march up the steps and play rich CEO when a piercing and feminine voice stopped him.

Brown gaze moved in the direction, only to be blinded by the pink that the woman was wearing. She looked like someone threw a truck of pink cottoncandy at her.

He grimaced at her words. He was mute but it wasn’t like he was going to explain that to the young woman who obviously was the perfect epitome of vanity.

He pulled his phone out, typing on it.

The bodyguards insisted again on keep going into the theatre as well but since the apology never came and he dared to talk back, Irina removed the sharpened pink hair buckle and locating the Chrysler 300 a few steps away, she walked to it and scratched three small lines on the driver’s door creating a cap of the letter ‘I’ for the initial of her name. She didn’t really care. She could never be arrested. 

“No, miss, why did you do that?”

“Shut the fuck up, I don’t pay you for your opinion”, she answered to the intrepid bodyguard. 

A moment later, she was inside the theatre and the two men were waiting outside as always while she carried herself to one of the best seats of the second line; the tapping sounds of the pink shoes turning people’s attention towards her. Most of them recognized the Russian and did a little bow with their heads or simply smiled while having an inner talk about the ridiculous cat-headphones she still had on.

Irina ignored them all. The only thing that was in her mind was the giant asshole she met before. Where was he? Placed in her seat, she looked around. The giant was walking towards the front lines and she realized the seat next to her was still empty. 

“Don’t sit here, don’t sit here, don’t sit here”, she kept murmurring watching him come closer and closer.

Entering the big theater, he glanced around to locate his seat that Spann reserved. Front lines, best seats like always…. The only problem.

When he saw a big spot of pink among black, he was ready to turn back around and text Spann ‘Fuck it’ but he knew what that woman would say.

‘Its important for Association with the company and organization. Many important people will be there which means your presence is requested.’

One brown eye, the other a milky white, both were pulled into a glare, but alas he marched forward, stopping next to the row and taking place in his seat, waving at the woman who seemed to scream desperatly for attention.

“Hello, Cottoncandy Ball.” he texted on his phone then showed her, hoping she at last knew how to read.

Well, Jesse Cromeans wasn’t a big fan of Opera, but he had ways to find entertainment.

“Hello, prick”, Irina said but pretending to be singing a pop song she was listening to. “Hello, hello”, she hummed in a low voice to make it seem more ‘true’ although being more than obvious.

A moment later the first soprano came to the scene. Irina turned the volume down ready to remove the headphones but immediately kept them on after hearing to what she thought was a pure nonsense screeching. God, she was going to be in for a very long tedious time.

She took the phone from her purse. The woman at her side blinked at the sudden light but didn’t complain seeing who the Russian was. Irina selected another song: ‘Gucci girl’ and then procceded to see her messages.

[text from Pup]: love, you are missing the fun.

[text from Pup]: they won’t tell your dad if You come here.

[text from Pup]: miss you love, take care❤️

Irina rolled her eyes, tired of her boyfriend’s sweet manners. That’s what had granted him the Pup nickname, nothing else than an object she could use for convenience.

[text from Irina to Pup]: You assholes having fun w/o me. Meanwhile i’m damned to be here with all this screaming.

[text from Irina to Pup]: You should see the weirdo next to me.

Irina moved subtly her phone for the camera to catch Jesse’s face.

This was worse than an execution. Something caught his interest, looking down at the pink girls phone and seeing she had took a picture of him, not to mention the text messages.

‘Freak? Oh I am gonna show you something freaky, pink poddle.’ he thought with sadistic glee.

In a flash he snatched her phone from her hand and smashing it in his fist, then typed on his own.

She removed her headphones immediately, looking around the theatre with a scared expression. Too bad the bodyguards were outside and the rest of the people were too focused on the singer. Maybe she should have paid attention too to avoid all of this. Also, she couldn’t walk away, her seat was right in the middle of the line surrounded by these rich fishes and this… shark. 

With an accelerated pulse, Irina took the courage to look at the giant’s eyes. Was he serious? Nobody has ever dared to steal (let alone smash) something from her and made it out alive, however she hoped for her own sake his expression wasn’t as psychopathic as it sounded. 

“Do you have any idea who I am?”

He was afraid of Jesse and that was good, so seeing his daughter acting like she was the presidents daughter or something made him amused.

He typed on the phone then showed it to her.

“A bratty little girl that needs to be taught some respect?”

He gave her a smirk, then grapped a long arm over her shoulder.

He gets off his seat and walks calmly out of the theater. When he reaches his car his eyes widen and the scratch on the black paintjob. He had a pretty good idea who it was.

That little brat!

It wasn’t the price of the car. Jesse could easily aford another one the next day morning. It was the nerve to be disrespected like that.

He quickly texted Spann to track the Cottoncandy down and he was more than pleased when he reached his mansion to have all the info on her.

Oh? She was the daughter of Viggo? Jesse chuckled, already knowing that the man would piss his slacks if he turned in front of his house.

He would have liked to do the classic; track the piggy down, Hunt the piggy, Butcher the piggy.

But no…..

This time he wanted a different game…. One which included mind games. He quickly wrote an email to Viggo, telling him that they needed to meet.

Also….. It wasn’t a request.

He wanted to teach that pink brat some manners.

The meeting was arranged at the mansion. The bodyguards outside let the man in but Irina still had men at her bedroom door. As soon as tall man entered the house, Viggo was waiting for him with two thick envelopes with money. He had sighed when he took the 50 thousand dollars from the strong-box but his princess was worth more than it. However, he didn’t mention it. Not wanting to offend him with money considering how rich the man was too, the envelopes rested on the corner of the table, just in case. 

He typed on the phone, knowing that the man didn't know ASL. The ever frustrating thing when it came to discussing business.

"Scotch. Two ice cubes." he let the electronic voice speak for him, as he sat down into the armchair in front of the mans desk, acting all calm and laid-back.

On the inside of his dress-jacket were strapped his twin knives..... Just in case. Old habits die hard.

"Now. Lets talk about business.... Or more so about how nowadays the education on the younger ones had dropped to nothing." he typed on the phone, looking straight into the mans eyes.

@jesseskullcromeans​ x Irina Tarasov

The fact that it was raining outside made Irina’s night even more boring. Her father, Viggo, the one that allowed her all the luxury that she encounter at every corner, had been insisting on her attending to one of the many Opera concerts from the Classic Week a refined festival taking part for seven days at one of the most destacable theatres of the town. He wanted her to cultivate her taste for elite arts meanwhile Irina, although she enjoyed playing the piano, was more interested in going to the Red Circle disco with her friends but that day, the father had presented himself at the mansion with two tickets. One for her, the other one for one of those friends but none of them wanted to leave their plans for party. 

Driving to this event was a hazel, because tonight was raining and he would have prefered to indulge into his more gruesome activities than listen to snobish people talk about themselvs.

Spann insisted, explaining to Jesse that it was benefic for the organization.

Seeing the theater, he quickly parked his Chrysler 300 in a hurry to get this over with. Opening the door, he stepped out, not fazed by the rain.

He was ready to march up the steps and play rich CEO when a piercing and feminine voice stopped him.

Brown gaze moved in the direction, only to be blinded by the pink that the woman was wearing. She looked like someone threw a truck of pink cottoncandy at her.

He grimaced at her words. He was mute but it wasn’t like he was going to explain that to the young woman who obviously was the perfect epitome of vanity.

He pulled his phone out, typing on it.

The bodyguards insisted again on keep going into the theatre as well but since the apology never came and he dared to talk back, Irina removed the sharpened pink hair buckle and locating the Chrysler 300 a few steps away, she walked to it and scratched three small lines on the driver’s door creating a cap of the letter ‘I’ for the initial of her name. She didn’t really care. She could never be arrested. 

“No, miss, why did you do that?”

“Shut the fuck up, I don’t pay you for your opinion”, she answered to the intrepid bodyguard. 

A moment later, she was inside the theatre and the two men were waiting outside as always while she carried herself to one of the best seats of the second line; the tapping sounds of the pink shoes turning people’s attention towards her. Most of them recognized the Russian and did a little bow with their heads or simply smiled while having an inner talk about the ridiculous cat-headphones she still had on.

Irina ignored them all. The only thing that was in her mind was the giant asshole she met before. Where was he? Placed in her seat, she looked around. The giant was walking towards the front lines and she realized the seat next to her was still empty. 

“Don’t sit here, don’t sit here, don’t sit here”, she kept murmurring watching him come closer and closer.

Entering the big theater, he glanced around to locate his seat that Spann reserved. Front lines, best seats like always…. The only problem.

When he saw a big spot of pink among black, he was ready to turn back around and text Spann ‘Fuck it’ but he knew what that woman would say.

‘Its important for Association with the company and organization. Many important people will be there which means your presence is requested.’

One brown eye, the other a milky white, both were pulled into a glare, but alas he marched forward, stopping next to the row and taking place in his seat, waving at the woman who seemed to scream desperatly for attention.

“Hello, Cottoncandy Ball.” he texted on his phone then showed her, hoping she at last knew how to read.

Well, Jesse Cromeans wasn’t a big fan of Opera, but he had ways to find entertainment.

“Hello, prick”, Irina said but pretending to be singing a pop song she was listening to. “Hello, hello”, she hummed in a low voice to make it seem more ‘true’ although being more than obvious.

A moment later the first soprano came to the scene. Irina turned the volume down ready to remove the headphones but immediately kept them on after hearing to what she thought was a pure nonsense screeching. God, she was going to be in for a very long tedious time.

She took the phone from her purse. The woman at her side blinked at the sudden light but didn’t complain seeing who the Russian was. Irina selected another song: ‘Gucci girl’ and then procceded to see her messages.

[text from Pup]: love, you are missing the fun.

[text from Pup]: they won’t tell your dad if You come here.

[text from Pup]: miss you love, take care❤️

Irina rolled her eyes, tired of her boyfriend’s sweet manners. That’s what had granted him the Pup nickname, nothing else than an object she could use for convenience.

[text from Irina to Pup]: You assholes having fun w/o me. Meanwhile i’m damned to be here with all this screaming.

[text from Irina to Pup]: You should see the weirdo next to me.

Irina moved subtly her phone for the camera to catch Jesse’s face.

This was worse than an execution. Something caught his interest, looking down at the pink girls phone and seeing she had took a picture of him, not to mention the text messages.

‘Freak? Oh I am gonna show you something freaky, pink poddle.’ he thought with sadistic glee.

In a flash he snatched her phone from her hand and smashing it in his fist, then typed on his own.

She removed her headphones immediately, looking around the theatre with a scared expression. Too bad the bodyguards were outside and the rest of the people were too focused on the singer. Maybe she should have paid attention too to avoid all of this. Also, she couldn’t walk away, her seat was right in the middle of the line surrounded by these rich fishes and this… shark. 

With an accelerated pulse, Irina took the courage to look at the giant’s eyes. Was he serious? Nobody has ever dared to steal (let alone smash) something from her and made it out alive, however she hoped for her own sake his expression wasn’t as psychopathic as it sounded. 

“Do you have any idea who I am?”

He was afraid of Jesse and that was good, so seeing his daughter acting like she was the presidents daughter or something made him amused.

He typed on the phone then showed it to her.

“A bratty little girl that needs to be taught some respect?”

He gave her a smirk, then grapped a long arm over her shoulder.

He gets off his seat and walks calmly out of the theater. When he reaches his car his eyes widen and the scratch on the black paintjob. He had a pretty good idea who it was.

That little brat!

It wasn't the price of the car. Jesse could easily aford another one the next day morning. It was the nerve to be disrespected like that.

He quickly texted Spann to track the Cottoncandy down and he was more than pleased when he reached his mansion to have all the info on her.

Oh? She was the daughter of Viggo? Jesse chuckled, already knowing that the man would piss his slacks if he turned in front of his house.

He would have liked to do the classic; track the piggy down, Hunt the piggy, Butcher the piggy.

But no.....

This time he wanted a different game.... One which included mind games. He quickly wrote an email to Viggo, telling him that they needed to meet.

Also..... It wasn't a request.

He wanted to teach that pink brat some manners.

@jesseskullcromeans​ x Irina Tarasov

The fact that it was raining outside made Irina’s night even more boring. Her father, Viggo, the one that allowed her all the luxury that she encounter at every corner, had been insisting on her attending to one of the many Opera concerts from the Classic Week a refined festival taking part for seven days at one of the most destacable theatres of the town. He wanted her to cultivate her taste for elite arts meanwhile Irina, although she enjoyed playing the piano, was more interested in going to the Red Circle disco with her friends but that day, the father had presented himself at the mansion with two tickets. One for her, the other one for one of those friends but none of them wanted to leave their plans for party. 

Driving to this event was a hazel, because tonight was raining and he would have prefered to indulge into his more gruesome activities than listen to snobish people talk about themselvs.

Spann insisted, explaining to Jesse that it was benefic for the organization.

Seeing the theater, he quickly parked his Chrysler 300 in a hurry to get this over with. Opening the door, he stepped out, not fazed by the rain.

He was ready to march up the steps and play rich CEO when a piercing and feminine voice stopped him.

Brown gaze moved in the direction, only to be blinded by the pink that the woman was wearing. She looked like someone threw a truck of pink cottoncandy at her.

He grimaced at her words. He was mute but it wasn’t like he was going to explain that to the young woman who obviously was the perfect epitome of vanity.

He pulled his phone out, typing on it.

The bodyguards insisted again on keep going into the theatre as well but since the apology never came and he dared to talk back, Irina removed the sharpened pink hair buckle and locating the Chrysler 300 a few steps away, she walked to it and scratched three small lines on the driver’s door creating a cap of the letter ‘I’ for the initial of her name. She didn’t really care. She could never be arrested. 

“No, miss, why did you do that?”

“Shut the fuck up, I don’t pay you for your opinion”, she answered to the intrepid bodyguard. 

A moment later, she was inside the theatre and the two men were waiting outside as always while she carried herself to one of the best seats of the second line; the tapping sounds of the pink shoes turning people’s attention towards her. Most of them recognized the Russian and did a little bow with their heads or simply smiled while having an inner talk about the ridiculous cat-headphones she still had on.

Irina ignored them all. The only thing that was in her mind was the giant asshole she met before. Where was he? Placed in her seat, she looked around. The giant was walking towards the front lines and she realized the seat next to her was still empty. 

“Don’t sit here, don’t sit here, don’t sit here”, she kept murmurring watching him come closer and closer.

Entering the big theater, he glanced around to locate his seat that Spann reserved. Front lines, best seats like always…. The only problem.

When he saw a big spot of pink among black, he was ready to turn back around and text Spann ‘Fuck it’ but he knew what that woman would say.

‘Its important for Association with the company and organization. Many important people will be there which means your presence is requested.’

One brown eye, the other a milky white, both were pulled into a glare, but alas he marched forward, stopping next to the row and taking place in his seat, waving at the woman who seemed to scream desperatly for attention.

“Hello, Cottoncandy Ball.” he texted on his phone then showed her, hoping she at last knew how to read.

Well, Jesse Cromeans wasn’t a big fan of Opera, but he had ways to find entertainment.

“Hello, prick”, Irina said but pretending to be singing a pop song she was listening to. “Hello, hello”, she hummed in a low voice to make it seem more ‘true’ although being more than obvious.

A moment later the first soprano came to the scene. Irina turned the volume down ready to remove the headphones but immediately kept them on after hearing to what she thought was a pure nonsense screeching. God, she was going to be in for a very long tedious time.

She took the phone from her purse. The woman at her side blinked at the sudden light but didn’t complain seeing who the Russian was. Irina selected another song: ‘Gucci girl’ and then procceded to see her messages.

[text from Pup]: love, you are missing the fun.

[text from Pup]: they won’t tell your dad if You come here.

[text from Pup]: miss you love, take care❤️

Irina rolled her eyes, tired of her boyfriend’s sweet manners. That’s what had granted him the Pup nickname, nothing else than an object she could use for convenience.

[text from Irina to Pup]: You assholes having fun w/o me. Meanwhile i’m damned to be here with all this screaming.

[text from Irina to Pup]: You should see the weirdo next to me.

Irina moved subtly her phone for the camera to catch Jesse’s face.

This was worse than an execution. Something caught his interest, looking down at the pink girls phone and seeing she had took a picture of him, not to mention the text messages.

'Freak? Oh I am gonna show you something freaky, pink poddle.’ he thought with sadistic glee.

In a flash he snatched her phone from her hand and smashing it in his fist, then typed on his own.

She removed her headphones immediately, looking around the theatre with a scared expression. Too bad the bodyguards were outside and the rest of the people were too focused on the singer. Maybe she should have paid attention too to avoid all of this. Also, she couldn’t walk away, her seat was right in the middle of the line surrounded by these rich fishes and this… shark. 

With an accelerated pulse, Irina took the courage to look at the giant’s eyes. Was he serious? Nobody has ever dared to steal (let alone smash) something from her and made it out alive, however she hoped for her own sake his expression wasn’t as psychopathic as it sounded. 

“Do you have any idea who I am?”

He was afraid of Jesse and that was good, so seeing his daughter acting like she was the presidents daughter or something made him amused.

He typed on the phone then showed it to her.

"A bratty little girl that needs to be taught some respect?"

He gave her a smirk, then grapped a long arm over her shoulder.

@jesseskullcromeans​ x Irina Tarasov

The fact that it was raining outside made Irina’s night even more boring. Her father, Viggo, the one that allowed her all the luxury that she encounter at every corner, had been insisting on her attending to one of the many Opera concerts from the Classic Week a refined festival taking part for seven days at one of the most destacable theatres of the town. He wanted her to cultivate her taste for elite arts meanwhile Irina, although she enjoyed playing the piano, was more interested in going to the Red Circle disco with her friends but that day, the father had presented himself at the mansion with two tickets. One for her, the other one for one of those friends but none of them wanted to leave their plans for party. 

Driving to this event was a hazel, because tonight was raining and he would have prefered to indulge into his more gruesome activities than listen to snobish people talk about themselvs.

Spann insisted, explaining to Jesse that it was benefic for the organization.

Seeing the theater, he quickly parked his Chrysler 300 in a hurry to get this over with. Opening the door, he stepped out, not fazed by the rain.

He was ready to march up the steps and play rich CEO when a piercing and feminine voice stopped him.

Brown gaze moved in the direction, only to be blinded by the pink that the woman was wearing. She looked like someone threw a truck of pink cottoncandy at her.

He grimaced at her words. He was mute but it wasn’t like he was going to explain that to the young woman who obviously was the perfect epitome of vanity.

He pulled his phone out, typing on it.

The bodyguards insisted again on keep going into the theatre as well but since the apology never came and he dared to talk back, Irina removed the sharpened pink hair buckle and locating the Chrysler 300 a few steps away, she walked to it and scratched three small lines on the driver’s door creating a cap of the letter ‘I’ for the initial of her name. She didn’t really care. She could never be arrested. 

“No, miss, why did you do that?”

“Shut the fuck up, I don’t pay you for your opinion”, she answered to the intrepid bodyguard. 

A moment later, she was inside the theatre and the two men were waiting outside as always while she carried herself to one of the best seats of the second line; the tapping sounds of the pink shoes turning people’s attention towards her. Most of them recognized the Russian and did a little bow with their heads or simply smiled while having an inner talk about the ridiculous cat-headphones she still had on.

Irina ignored them all. The only thing that was in her mind was the giant asshole she met before. Where was he? Placed in her seat, she looked around. The giant was walking towards the front lines and she realized the seat next to her was still empty. 

“Don’t sit here, don’t sit here, don’t sit here”, she kept murmurring watching him come closer and closer.

Entering the big theater, he glanced around to locate his seat that Spann reserved. Front lines, best seats like always…. The only problem.

When he saw a big spot of pink among black, he was ready to turn back around and text Spann ‘Fuck it’ but he knew what that woman would say.

‘Its important for Association with the company and organization. Many important people will be there which means your presence is requested.’

One brown eye, the other a milky white, both were pulled into a glare, but alas he marched forward, stopping next to the row and taking place in his seat, waving at the woman who seemed to scream desperatly for attention.

“Hello, Cottoncandy Ball.” he texted on his phone then showed her, hoping she at last knew how to read.

Well, Jesse Cromeans wasn’t a big fan of Opera, but he had ways to find entertainment.

“Hello, prick”, Irina said but pretending to be singing a pop song she was listening to. “Hello, hello”, she hummed in a low voice to make it seem more 'true’ although being more than obvious.

A moment later the first soprano came to the scene. Irina turned the volume down ready to remove the headphones but immediately kept them on after hearing to what she thought was a pure nonsense screeching. God, she was going to be in for a very long tedious time.

She took the phone from her purse. The woman at her side blinked at the sudden light but didn’t complain seeing who the Russian was. Irina selected another song: 'Gucci girl’ and then procceded to see her messages.

[text from Pup]: love, you are missing the fun.

[text from Pup]: they won’t tell your dad if You come here.

[text from Pup]: miss you love, take care❤️

Irina rolled her eyes, tired of her boyfriend’s sweet manners. That’s what had granted him the Pup nickname, nothing else than an object she could use for convenience.

[text from Irina to Pup]: You assholes having fun w/o me. Meanwhile i’m damned to be here with all this screaming.

[text from Irina to Pup]: You should see the weirdo next to me.

Irina moved subtly her phone for the camera to catch Jesse’s face.

This was worse than an execution. Something caught his interest, looking down at the pink girls phone and seeing she had took a picture of him, not to mention the text messages.

'Freak? Oh I am gonna show you something freaky, pink poddle.' he thought with sadistic glee.

In a flash he snatched her phone from her hand and smashing it in his fist, then typed on his own.

@jesseskullcromeans​ x Irina Tarasov

The fact that it was raining outside made Irina’s night even more boring. Her father, Viggo, the one that allowed her all the luxury that she encounter at every corner, had been insisting on her attending to one of the many Opera concerts from the Classic Week a refined festival taking part for seven days at one of the most destacable theatres of the town. He wanted her to cultivate her taste for elite arts meanwhile Irina, although she enjoyed playing the piano, was more interested in going to the Red Circle disco with her friends but that day, the father had presented himself at the mansion with two tickets. One for her, the other one for one of those friends but none of them wanted to leave their plans for party. 

Driving to this event was a hazel, because tonight was raining and he would have prefered to indulge into his more gruesome activities than listen to snobish people talk about themselvs.

Spann insisted, explaining to Jesse that it was benefic for the organization.

Seeing the theater, he quickly parked his Chrysler 300 in a hurry to get this over with. Opening the door, he stepped out, not fazed by the rain.

He was ready to march up the steps and play rich CEO when a piercing and feminine voice stopped him.

Brown gaze moved in the direction, only to be blinded by the pink that the woman was wearing. She looked like someone threw a truck of pink cottoncandy at her.

He grimaced at her words. He was mute but it wasn’t like he was going to explain that to the young woman who obviously was the perfect epitome of vanity.

He pulled his phone out, typing on it.

The bodyguards insisted again on keep going into the theatre as well but since the apology never came and he dared to talk back, Irina removed the sharpened pink hair buckle and locating the Chrysler 300 a few steps away, she walked to it and scratched three small lines on the driver’s door creating a cap of the letter ‘I’ for the initial of her name. She didn’t really care. She could never be arrested. 

“No, miss, why did you do that?”

“Shut the fuck up, I don’t pay you for your opinion”, she answered to the intrepid bodyguard. 

A moment later, she was inside the theatre and the two men were waiting outside as always while she carried herself to one of the best seats of the second line; the tapping sounds of the pink shoes turning people’s attention towards her. Most of them recognized the Russian and did a little bow with their heads or simply smiled while having an inner talk about the ridiculous cat-headphones she still had on.

Irina ignored them all. The only thing that was in her mind was the giant asshole she met before. Where was he? Placed in her seat, she looked around. The giant was walking towards the front lines and she realized the seat next to her was still empty. 

“Don’t sit here, don’t sit here, don’t sit here”, she kept murmurring watching him come closer and closer.

Entering the big theater, he glanced around to locate his seat that Spann reserved. Front lines, best seats like always.... The only problem.

When he saw a big spot of pink among black, he was ready to turn back around and text Spann 'Fuck it' but he knew what that woman would say.

'Its important for Association with the company and organization. Many important people will be there which means your presence is requested.'

One brown eye, the other a milky white, both were pulled into a glare, but alas he marched forward, stopping next to the row and taking place in his seat, waving at the woman who seemed to scream desperatly for attention.

"Hello, Cottoncandy Ball." he texted on his phone then showed her, hoping she at last knew how to read.

Well, Jesse Cromeans wasn't a big fan of Opera, but he had ways to find entertainment.

@jesseskullcromeans​ x Irina Tarasov

The fact that it was raining outside made Irina’s night even more boring. Her father, Viggo, the one that allowed her all the luxury that she encounter at every corner, had been insisting on her attending to one of the many Opera concerts from the Classic Week a refined festival taking part for seven days at one of the most destacable theatres of the town. He wanted her to cultivate her taste for elite arts meanwhile Irina, although she enjoyed playing the piano, was more interested in going to the Red Circle disco with her friends but that day, the father had presented himself at the mansion with two tickets. One for her, the other one for one of those friends but none of them wanted to leave their plans for party. 

Driving to this event was a hazel, because tonight was raining and he would have prefered to indulge into his more gruesome activities than listen to snobish people talk about themselvs.

Spann insisted, explaining to Jesse that it was benefic for the organization.

Seeing the theater, he quickly parked his Chrysler 300 in a hurry to get this over with. Opening the door, he stepped out, not fazed by the rain.

He was ready to march up the steps and play rich CEO when a piercing and feminine voice stopped him.

Brown gaze moved in the direction, only to be blinded by the pink that the woman was wearing. She looked like someone threw a truck of pink cottoncandy at her.

He grimaced at her words. He was mute but it wasn't like he was going to explain that to the young woman who obviously was the perfect epitome of vanity.

He pulled his phone out, typing on it.