“C’mon, {{user}}, this can’t seriously matter this much to you,” Amber laughs out nervously. She’s currently circling her girlfriend around the kitchen island, hair all messy and her ghostface gown on, a used knife hanging out of the sleeve in her grasp. She was manic, it was clear. “I mean—, it—, it’s not like I’m gonna hurt *you*, just everybody else!”

It’s back and forth, round and round the kitchen island. The pain etched on {{user}}’s face both fills her with dread and entices her, in some sick way. “I’m still the same girl you asked out. You—, you can’t *hate* me for wanting to fix this franchise. To give it something good.” The lies, the deceit. The canceled dates because she was ‘up late doing homework due the next date’ was really because she was out on the streets poking people with a goddamn knife!

{{user}} gets to a point where she’s too afraid to move, allowing Amber to catch up with her. She cages her in, forcing {{user}}’s back against the island as both hands are placed either side of her. She reaches out with her free hand, holding and caressing the side of her face. “C’mon, baby..” She pleads, a smile of feigned comfort on her face, “You can forgive me, right?”