sing sweet nightingale.

“So, what’s your latest excuse for skipping class?”

“Can’t even conjure one up, so I’m going with ‘I didn’t wanna go’.”

“Quentin Dame himself was caught in the midst of a scandal all his own about five years ago. Violence, sex.. The works.” Frost drawled, his pallid face still and sinister. “But what do you have to offer me for this information?”

“Oh, darling,” The brunette scoffed, “I have everything. What is it that you want? I can make it happen.”

“Sometimes slow and steady really does win the race. Aesop really did have some things right.” Victoria smiled up at their waiter. “And another sidecar for me. A little less lemon juice this time, please.”

“True. Ugh, my sister was always more level-headed than me when we’d scheme, together. I desperately need that balance.”

“What makes you assume that just because I’m in public that I’m open to other people’s criticisms of me?” Fiona brushed a strand of her long, brown hair behind her ear. “So, what, if you were studying a public library or something and someone thought you weren’t very good at studying then they should go up to you and tell you what a terrible job that you’re doing?”

“You are. I tell people who are poorly dressed how I feel all the time. Did they ask? No. Do they care? They should. Nobody tells people they’re bad at studying, doll face. That isn’t a thing. That was a poor excuse for an example. I’d just tell them to fuck off because they clearly have way too much time on their hands.”

“Of course you don’t, because you’re a vapid young girl who doesn’t pay attention. I know everything about Quentin Dame. We used to live together. His blood type, his shoe size, a comprehensive list of allergies, nightmares and worst fears..” Frost tapped his brain. “All here.”

“Ah, ah, ah. I don’t stop at just students, you know. I’m sure you have your secrets, too. I’m not afraid turn a chat in your office with a young woman into a scandal. I’ve done it before, I’ll do it again. Well, all I care about are his fears and nightmares. Is it such confidential information that you would be my only source? I doubt.”

Rachel blinked,·“Um, remind me what she did to you again.”·

“Scuffed my fucking Louboutins, of course.”

“What I don’t understand is your wish to continue offending me, even when I’m your one chance at vengeance.”

“I haven’t the slightest idea what you’re talking about. How could you possibly be of any assistance to me?”

Penelope started to gain a little confidence in herself and reminded herself that even though she was trying to not be bratty and rude anymore, that doesn’t mean she can’t stick up for herself.

“I mean, I didn’t exactly ask for your “personal opinion”.

“When you began singing in a public space, you opened yourself up to opinions. I know, it might be difficult to grasp for you, but I’m sure you can do it.”

“See, I like where you’re going, but I think psychological warfare might be slightly more effective in this case. Where is our waiter?”

“You’re probably right. I can’t let my anger get the best of me. It’s messed me up in the past. Ugh, I don’t know -- wait. Hey! Excuse me!” Dita called after a waiter until they turned, “More martinis. Please. Thank you.”

“Besides the threat of violence, it doesn’t seem that Mr. Dame actually struck you. There’s nothing that the school can do in your favor, despite your wishes to unleash revenge.”

“Oh, you underestimate my power, old-timer. And it deeply offends me.”

“I mean I’m not amazing, but I thought I was at least pretty good…” Penelope said quietly, almost like a 5-year old being disciplined.

“Well, in my personal opinion, you thought wrong, sweetheart.”

Frost’s angular visage suddenly clouded for a moment. “Quentin.” He tumbled, like thunder in his chest. After a split second, his face was inscrutable again. “And what exactly do you have to ‘destroy’ Mr. Dame? You can hardly remember his name, could he have slighted you so terribly?”

“That’s it! Ugh, the little nerd nearly punched me in my carefully sculpted directly by the gods face with his germ infested, peasant fist the other day. All because I made fun of him about his relationship troubles. Chipped the wall of the building behind me. He’s just lucky he didn’t actually hit me or I’d be ruining his life while making him pay for the reconstruction of one of the cheekbones I was gifted with.”

“Final warning. Mind your tongue.” Frost clenched his angular jaw, crossing his arms. “Now, what in the blazes are you plotting now?”

“Wow, you sound just like my mother. Oh, just the destruction of that little saltine with hair. What’s his name? Quincy? Quinto? No, that’s Zachary. Well, shit.”

“Language, miss.”

“Oh, god. Bite me.”

Quentin snarled, something he didn’t know he was able to do. “You can try. I’m already ruined.” He seethed, heaving his broad shoulders, in shame, but anger nonetheless.

"Oh, but I do adore a challenge. If you think you're ruined now, just wait until I'm done with you. I suggest you start writing your formal goodbye notes to your future and friends, now." The brunette was quietly whispering, but her voice was still stern. "Now, get the hell out of my face before I start screaming."