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[color=mediumvioletred][sub][i]Make me your Aphrodite
Make me your one and only
But don't make me your enemy
Your enemy.

Are you ready for a perfect storm?[/i][/sub][/color]
[img]http://cdn-th.tunwalai.net/files/member/1641172/1778751291-member.jpg[/img][/center]
[indent]Fiorella had been so wrapped up in her music and the juicy contents of her gossip magazine that it wasn’t until some rando grabbed onto the sides of the bunk bed and launched himself to the top bed that her attention was caught- but not in the best way. The brunette let out a scream of both horror and surprise, eyes wide in disbelief at the events unfolding in front of her. What the fuck was this guy doing in her cabin?! Or, better yet: why in the hell did he just throw himself on the top bunk of [i]her bed[/i] like some sort of deranged creep?! With no possible answer to these questions, her uneasiness grew when the head of this psychopath of a man suddenly appeared hanging upside down from the top bunk, looking straight at her with an impish grin.

Even while fearing for her safety, there was no denying that Mr. Rando was an attractive one. The brown hair was styled impeccably, the eyes had a playful nature to them, the lips were full and juicy and pretty much asking to be kissed… And the birthmark right beside his bottom lip on the left side of his face? Hot. As. Fuck. Lela was much too used to the common, boring looks of the male population of her own country (not to mention their exasperating fuckboy attitude), so it was quite refreshing to be exposed to a whole new world of new pretty faces to look at -or, who knows, maybe even indulge in. However, his weird-ass behavior wasn’t doing him any favors of getting in her good graces, and the first words he said to her only dug his own grave even deeper.

[i][color=lightblue]“So what are you in for, Chica? Trafficking cocaine from below the border?”[/color][/i]

It took all of Fiorella’s self control to not roll up her magazine and swing it right at at Mr. Rando’s stupid, now much less attractive face. So not only was this dude a creep, but also a racist scumbag. The young woman couldn’t help but roll her eyes at his ignorance. She’d heard stories about how some people in the States could be racist cucks, but she’d thought that wouldn’t be an issue in a place as progressive as California, and that people of her own age group and generation would be less prone to this dumb, toxic behavior. It really sucked to be wrong.

[color=mediumvioletred]“I’m Puerto Rican, not Mexican, [i]gringo pendejo[/i],”[/color] Fiorella spat angrily, giving the young man a scathing glare. Her usual friendly demeanor was long gone, replaced by a mixture of anger and annoyance. [color=mediumvioletred]“And why I’m here is none of your fucking business. So unless you want me to report you to whoever’s in charge of this place for being a racist creep, I suggest you get the hell out of my cabin and go find your own.”[/color][/indent]