Manny said, "But Quinn, honestly, I feel that compared to that Mr. York, Snow seems a tad bit nicer, you know?"
"Really?"
After a while, Manny fell silent, and his hand holding the hairdryer froze in place, aimlessly blowing hot air at her left temple. Quintessa asked, "Why the silence?"
Manny's voice trembled, "I-I..."
Quintessa, feeling suspicious, lifted her head to glance at Manny and saw him pale as a ghost, his expression crumbled, with a vacant stare fixed toward the doorway; his hand holding the hairdryer shook uncontrollably.
Quintessa turned to look at the doorway, and upon seeing the figure at the door, she immediately understood it.
She sighed; mourning for Manny in her heart, she reached out to take the hairdryer from his hand, "Step outside for a bit."
Manny instinctively tried to bolt, but the person at the door blocked him, "What's the rush?"
He strolled in, "I'm not as good as Snow? Come on, spill it. What's he got that I don't? I want to hear this."
Quintessa picked up a comb, "What brings you here?"
Tyrone snatched the comb from Quintessa's hand, "Don't change the subject. Clear up what you just said."
Manny was on the verge of tears, "I-I was just blabbering, Mr. York, please don't take it personally."
Quintessa glanced at Tyrone, "He didn't say anything wrong, did he?"
Tyrone's face darkened, "Got the guts? Repeat it."
Quintessa smiled, "Can you sing? Can you dance? Can you write songs? You can't do any of those, of course, except for being loaded."
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