O'Connell closed the exit doors shut, and was about heading towards the waiting area where he could hail a taxi, when he saw a man ogling at a teenage girl who was putting on very little clothing, as she walked on the road like one who had no care in the world. The man's wife noticed this, spat into his gaped mouth. And smacked him so hard on the face, that it pulled the attention of people towards them.

Something which made O'Connell guffawed in laughter, because it was such an amusing sight to be seen.

"Well, well, well. If it isn't the rustic petty boy, trying to secure a job." The feminine voice of a female, suddenly pulled him out of his laughing state.

Slowly, he turned around to see the owner of the voice.

His face squeezed into a frown, when he saw that it was Penelope O'Sullivan.

What is she doing out here? Where are her body guards? O'Connell wondered, then tucked his hands into his pants pocket, as he turned fully to face her.

Penelope O'Sullivan had her behind rested against her range Rover Jeep. Clad in a black expensive, official business suit pants that was ironed to crispy perfection, and black stiletto heels. Her natural long whitish-blonde hair was pulled back into a pony tail. Her make up was light. Giving her the exact Barbie girl look. A Barbie in suit, that had this authoritative aura around her.

She was one of the most sexiest, well educated and sought after woman, who was greatly lust after by men in the world. At twenty-six, her dad's companies were passed down over to her, something which made her flighty rich because she was one hardworking woman.

Scott had told him this.

It was this same Scott, who Penelope was completely inlove with. And always chased after. Getting him fancy things, and giving him fat wads of cash. But Scott was barely interested in her. And that was the main reason she hated O'Connell. Because Scott made it obvious to her, that he and O'Connell were involved in a sexual relationship. She had seen Scott and O'Connell hanging out on several occasions. Even caught them making out in public.

Scott was bisexual. O'Connell's sex buddy with nothing more.

And O'Connell had never in his life talked to Penelope before. Even when he saw her at a party. He wasn't given the opportunity to see or speak with her, one on one.

Not that he cared anyway.

Plus he knew why she had come to see him.

He tucked his hands in his pockets, and walked up to Penelope. Giving her a look, through the straight face he had on. Because he felt the need to. She just called him a rustic petty boy.

"Can I see you for a moment?" She was suddenly beaming at him. As if she hadn't insulted him few minutes ago.

Behind his glasses, O'Connell allowed his eyes to travel down to Penelope's hands, and saw that they were curled into hard tight fists. Something which caused green veins to bulge out along her pale skinny hands.

"But that's what you're doing right now, with your eyes." He curled his finger into a fist, raised it up to his mouth, and bit into it. While maintaining eye contact with her. Until she looked away and scoffed.

"Listen, I need you to keep off my man." Returning her eyes to O'Connell, she sneered at him. With her smile completely gone.

And O'Connell took his fist off his mouth, so she could see the amusement that was clouding his face.

"Hold on for a freaking sec, ma'am. Which man are you talking about? Cause I don't see any man here." He responded, then pushed his glasses up.

Penelope's eyes flashed in anger. "Trying to play smart with me, huh?" She folded her arms across her chest, and then allowed her eyes to access from the crown of his head, to the sole of his feet. And then scrunched up her face in displeasure.

"Everything about you is of poor quality, and little worth. Giving you the rustic trashy kind of look because you're useless. I've got a frigging vagina, something he enjoys. Not that bag of shit he's forced to fuck, because of your pretty boy face. I need you to stay the fuck away from Scott. Because I don't want your fucking Nigerian mouth on his dick anymore, nor do I want his dick getting thrust into your smelly sticky anus. Because you're shit." She ground out with her willowy finger wagging at his direction, as she glared at him like she wanted to decapitate him.

"One moment please." She said with urgency in her voice. Then dipped her fingers into her purse to bring out an expensive perfume. Before shooting O'Connell a smirk, and spraying it all over his body. "Your poverty stinks like a trash receptacle." She added, then chuckled.

There was a long pause after that, because O'Connell wanted to be horrified that Penelope O'Sullivan went to meet him, just to warn him to stay away from Scott. His brain was still trying to properly align the insults she threw at him.

And then it did.

This made his body invigorate for war, because he thought that she had managed to grow herself invisible balls to insult him. Because she was fucking rich.

And he knew all he had to do, was to keep calm. So she wouldn't get the pleasure of seeing that her words had affect him.

O'Connell chuckled to himself, and this made her eyes widen with disbelief and fear for a brief moment, before they flickered away.

"Did you just open that mouth of yours, to rain insults at me, Ma'am?" He asked, calmly.

She blinked, taken aback and looking unsure of herself for a moment before she growled "What would you do?"

Curling his fingers into fists, and cracking them, he tucked his tongue inside his cheek.

Before moving ahead to give her the insult of her life.

"Nothing. Ma'am. Nothing. But to give you a piece of the words you deserve. Oh well, I thought you were a lady with high class, and everything. I was dumb enough to notice that you're not only a racist, but also a stupid ass bitch. With insecurities tugging you endlessly, a rotten ill stinking personality, a trashy attitude and a big fat squalid mouth.

Your brain is worst than an empty vessel. You mask yourself in expensive clothings, to shield away your disgusting fake titties and silicone butt. But that changes no fact that you were once very flat chested, and had an ass that was as flat as board. Now I see why men are always ditching you and you running after them. Because you're all shades of worst. You're filthy and pathetic. No one would want to keep you. That's why you're left with no option but to chase a man like Scott because you feel he's going to keep you. But sadly this isn't a Hollywood movie, with the hard guy falling for the spoilt bitchy brat. Woman up, because this is real life bitch, and he would never accept a desperate, living ad pro walking Barbie doll like you." O'Connell finished breathlessly, panting agressively on having finished his long harsh and hateful comeback. Then he wiped sweat off his brow.

There was a long silence that hung around between them, like they were paying tribute to a dead person. Because the Penelope was still trying to comprehend the insults he just fired at her.

Her mouth flapped opened, then closed shut. She repeated this action twice. And then blinked until there were tears welled up in her eyes.

"I'm so going to kill you!" She finally shrieked when she found her voice. And it was loud enough for passerbys to throw curious and wary looks at her.

She lunged towards O'Connell, and he moved away from the intended cat fight.

There was no way he was going to fight a woman. And he thought that she was stupid enough, to think she would fight him over Scott.

She took off her heels, and threw them at him, like a craze woman. Completely forgetting she was the almighty Penelope O'Sullivan.

O'Connell scoffed, and then pointed behind her.

She halted and slowly turned around. Just in time to see few paps outside, taking shots of her without her consent. Alongside people staring at her, like she had lost being sane.

O'Connell gave her a triumphant smirk, then folded his arms across his chest.

He thought that it was questionable how, people admired a certain someone because they didn't know them. And then they get to see the real them, and then detest them.

Penelope O'Sullivan of all people, whose face was constantly on TV, all around the internet, and newspapers, was a faker. Because he had seen her true colors.

She wiped the tears away from her face, and O'Connell was shocked that her make up was still perfect.

Cladding her facial expression with the mask of a straight calm face, she exhaled loudly to calm her insides, from the invisible fumes of rage. Because people were staring at her. And she definitely was making a mess of herself.

She jerked a finger towards O'Connell, eyes flashing with contempt that he could feel acrimony from her, radiating in the atmosphere.

"You will pay, for every freaking thing you've said to me. I'll make sure of that." She threatened as if speaking to a child. And with those last words of hers, she hopped in her car and zoomed off.

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