[ Apparently, the screen of the Forge makes for a good cosmetic mirror. The star of the video feed primps their hair, working volume back into the blond mass of curls, bats their eyelashes, and inspects the thin line of a gash that graces the right side of their face with a careful brush of lacquered fingernails. Defined bone structure, full lips,
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No one wants to see that much of you, skank. Don't broadcast when you want to whore yourself out.
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[ And if that's the case, Benten certainly has no business with you. ]
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But, if there's one thing you are, it's a v-i-r-g-i-n. A scrawny ass midget virgin with no one to warm his bed at night. Oh, boohoo. Take your jealousy somewhere else.
[ HAIRFLIP. ]
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The people that were saying you ain't ugly? Yeah, those are the people waiting for you to put out like the slut you look like.
Who would want something like that, skank?! And who the fuck are you calling a midget?! You wanna come and say that outside of your safe little screen, bitch?
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[ Dear god, Benten's mood is bad. ]
You anywhere near the Outlander Apartments, twerp? Meet me on the roof, and we'll see who's playin' it safe.
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Better get up there in a hurry, slut, so I can knock you back down to your street corner.
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[ And quite deliberately, before he shuts off the video feed, Benten blows Michael a kiss - ]
Don't you dare keep me waitin'.
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Michael shudders. And that makes him more pissed. ]
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