A Dazzling Guide Towards Vengeance.

𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐋𝐚𝐬𝐭 𝐃𝐫𝐨𝐩.

"I've just seen, like, three strip clubs and five casinos on my way here. What the fuck has happened to the Undercity?" You snorted as you approached the old friends whose faces told how little they expected to see you after so much time.

-

Your elbows laid on the tall jukebox of The Last Drop bar. A song played, bottle in hand, body arched as you spoke with people you hadn't seen in years.

Investigating (perhaps manipulating) people into telling you how things had changed, you already had the name Jinx. She was, apparently, a psychopath working for another called Silco, but that was not who you came back to the Undercity for. You'd, perhaps, investigate about that after you had found your target.

Also, the Undercity happened to be Zaun, now. It was somehow related to that man Silco, but you brushed it off.

"What brings ya' here?" Lorenzo, who you used to think to be your platonic soulmate as a child, finally spoke. 

"Business," you said as you took another sip of the bottle of vodka.

Lorenzo let a dry laugh out. "That's all ya' gotta say? It's been two bloody years."

You were glad he finally let it out. His gaze on you was starting to cut your skin open, trying to make you feel guilty for leaving the way you did.

"What do you want me to say, Enzo? That I feel sorry? I did. But I was more worried about the shit father provoked after he died."

He sighed, trying to understand your point of view, as he had always done. "Thought you didn't care much about that. He wasn't especially good to ya."

You began focusing on the vibrations of the music that came from behind you. You had drunk enough to know you shouldn't start talking about that topic while thinking, — mostly not while drinking.

"My sister went fucking insane because of that," you muttered as you lifted your elbows from the jukebox to now sit on it. Your facial expression showing no emotion.

A kick on your face made your head and back violently hit the wall behind the —now clearly not functioning— jukebox. You had to fight the urge of letting every single drop of alcohol you had drank for the past hour out of your body.

"Red," a pink-haired woman said, her face expressing something in between a smirk and a disgusted expression.

You used your thumb to clean the blood that your lip was pouring before making a coughing sound and looking up at Violet, something in your eyes flickering. "Took you long enough," you sneered as you fully stood.

Behind her, you could see Lorenzo already pointing a Draco right at her head. Violet, ignoring it, turned around to make her way towards him.

You knew how that would end, so you hit the alcohol bottle you hadn't dropped against the wall to break it in half. "Lorenzo, back up."

"And I thought we were friends," Violet took the gun out of his grip, knowing he would not shoot.

Before she could do anything else, you rapidly moved towards her to bend your body down and cut her leg with the glass, crossing your leg with her ankle so she would fall.

You moved your body on top of hers, pointing the glass at her neck.

"Such a backstabber," she said slowly, that insufferable smirk painted her face.

Her words were clearly meant in two different ways.

Violet and you had never really been friends: you used to share the same friend group, if you'd call it that way, but Vander and your father had too many problems to allow you two to be close. Actually, it was hell for people to try and enjoy a good time when you two stood in the same room.