Someone yelled, "Everyone in the hall?"

"Everyone who attended my party," I corrected. "I bought out the vending machine for today because of y'all. Enjoy."

Some people stopped cheering. Many others rushed out to me to show their gratitude, patting me, hugging me e.t.c. I gritted my teeth at the contact but didn't say anything.

After a few seconds, I backed away, faking a laugh. "Y'all should calm down. There's still one last thing I have to address."

They stopped reaching towards me.

Good, I need to be as levelheaded as possible.

I went on. "So, as you all know, you weren't the only ones that I was unnecessarily harsh too. I want to take the opportunity to say this: Hans, I apologize for the words I said to you on Friday."

A collective gasp echoed throughout the room, followed soon by murmurs:

"He apologized!"

"Oh my gosh, what happened? I couldn't make the party!"

"What he said was crazy rude though, does he think Hans would forgive him?"

Oh, he's going to.

I walked to Hans. The guys around him tensed.

"You were just being an amazing host for my party, and I ruined that. But, I don't want us to have any bad blood between us." I held out a hand to him. "Truce?"

Hans stared at my hand like it was a rattlesnake. There was a plaster stuck on the side of his forehead.

That's where I hit him with the mic. Serves him right.

As Hans glared at my hand, I gritted my teeth. Hurry the fuck up!

He took my hand, squeezing it as tight as he could. Smirking, I returned the favor. He hissed and withdrew his hand.

Hans forced a strained grin onto his face. Cheers erupted in the hall.

I nodded my head back to my table. "You're more than welcome to join us there."

He let out a forced laugh. "I'll pass for now. I'm having a conversation with these guys."

One of the said guys glared at me, flexing his muscles as he did so. "You can go now."

I glared at him. "I-"

No, I have to remain calm.

I nodded, then walked away from the table.

A few people patted me on my way across the hall as they headed towards the vending machine. My face felt tight from my constant smiling. If three hundred dollars and a few words are all it takes to make me into an angel in the people's eyes, then so be it.

I was a lot more careful to avoid people on the way to my destination, though.

Aimee's eyes connected with mine as I approached, but she looked away as soon as that happened.

I smirked. It's always cute when they try to delay the inevitable.

She began chatting animatedly with the girls who sat around her. Only a few of them responded. The rest had their attention on me.

I stopped at the table, gazing at Aimee. She refused to look at me. In

Her voice rose. "...you imagine Victor pushed up our deadline?"

"Uhh, Aimee?" One of the girls said.

Aimee paused. "What is it, Nabila?"

"I think Angelo wants to talk to you about something."

Aimee grumbled, "Gee, thanks for the heads up, Nabila.'

"Yeah, thanks, Nabila," I echoed.

Nabila smiled a little, staring at me with round eyes. Her chestnut-colored oval face was smooth, albeit being lightly covered with acne scars. Long black and gold braids hung from her head.

I asked, "Why aren't you girls at the vending machine right now?"

A few of them glanced at each other. "Well, we didn't attend the party."

"Don't worry about that."

Their eyes widened. "Seriously?"

I shrugged.

"Oh my gosh, thanks!"

"You're the best!"

The girls abandoned Aimee, except for Nabila.

She looked at Aimee.

I took a seat in front of Aimee. "She's not. We have something we need to discuss."

"Aimee?"

After a moment, Aimee took a deep breath, then shot Nabila a smile. "Nah, I'm good. I'm taking a break from sugar anyway."

Despite the puzzled look on her face, Nabila nodded, then followed after the other girls.

At last, we're alone.

I opened my mouth to speak, but Aimee beat me to it. "Just because you apologized to everyone doesn't mean things will go back to the way they were."

I hid my irritation behind a smirk. "I wasn't expecting anything different. When is our next session-"

"Tuesday."

My brow furrowed. "Why not-"

"Because I have work. Look, can you just leave?"

I frowned. "What is up with you?"

She crossed her arms. "Like you don't know!"

"I already apologized for Friday-"

"A public apology isn't the same as a private one."

"You want a private one? Fine, I'm sorry." I growled. "There, happy?"

"She will be when you leave."

My eyes widened as I looked up. Dylan.

His square-shaped face was a light amber color. He had straight chocolate-brown with fades at the sides. He glared at me with dark eyes and frowned with tightly-pressed thin lips.

I glared back at him. "What the fuck are you doing here?"

He placed his muscled arms on Aimee's shoulders. "You're the one who's not wanted here. Why don't you go find something else to do, other than pissing off my girlfriend?"