Money II: Quiet Mannequin

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Song for the chapter: Art Deco ~By: Lana Del Rey

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Song for the chapter: Art Deco ~
By: Lana Del Rey

Club queen on the downtown scene
Prowling around at night
You're not mean, you just want to be seen
Want to be wild

A little party never hurt no one, that's why it's alright
You want in but you just can't win
So you hang in the lights

You're so Art Deco, out on the floor
Shining like gun metal, cold and unsure

Baby, you're so ghetto
You're looking to score

When they all say hello
You try to ignore them

)()(())((()))(((())))((((()))))()(())((()))(


"We need to talk on how to go on with this..."

The man said gravely, thinking over how to frame the next words. How to go on with the plan that was solely alive in his mind, something he wasn't sure would ever come to play.

"Yeah...?" Timidly, but surely, Raven agreed upon the silent terms set by Callisto. She wasn't sure over the fact if the man liked her song or not, but she did catch him humming in content at the end of it.

It couldn't be that bad.

Trying to brace herself for the man's next words, Raven calmed her nerves down a notch just so she could hear the CEO talking over the chaos of her head.

"This is going to be a page turner. For you. Me. The media. Travis. His father. Everyone." It was a funny feeling, being told the things you already know about, as if an elder was preparing you for the worst.

The thing is, Raven hated being treated like a child. Someone who's simply unaware of the consequences that follow.

"That, I know." She spoke back, almost biting her tongue to not pass out arrogance in a time like this.

Callisto looked back at the woman whose eyes he was avoiding to not let her get her expectations high. He couldn't guarantee what he was going to say. Neither could he guarantee what he would hear.

"We'll have to do this discreetly. I won't be able to prepare papers for you, not now. But later...when this news is out, I hope we can take that leap too." It was pure reassurance that dripped from the man's mouth. Not for the artist but for himself.

Both of them were silent. Lost in their own thoughts.

One's, filled with hate.

Other's, fearful yet confident.

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