Even Angels Have Their Limits
“Fine.” A twisted smile crossed her face as Marinette roughly wiped her eyes and grinned at the class who had just torn up her precious sketchbook. A chill ran through them—this was so far from her regular behavior, it was almost as if she’d been replaced by an akuma, but Hawkmoth would’ve won by now, if so.
“‘Fine’ what?” Lila purred, batting her eyelashes, obviously baiting the girl. She was ignored, as Marinette’s voice dropped into a snarl.
“You want me to be a bully? To be a monster? So be it.” She took out her phone, dialed a number, and said, in a gleeful tone, “Uncle Jagged, remember how I mentioned that bully? Well, that same underage girl claimed you wrote a song about her.” A pause as her smirk widened. “I have recordings, security camera footage, and if there’s anything else you need, you can go on her supposed bestie’s tabloid of a website—The Ladyblog. Good luck on the lawsuit, but I doubt you’ll need it. Bye, Uncle Jay.”
She hung up, put her hands on her hips, and leered at the horrified group, before turning to look at Lila in the front row. Her face softened in a satiric manner as she walked up to her, put her hands on the desk, and leaned forward to say something only she could hear.
“Even I have my limits.” Pulling back, she blew a kiss to the class, slung her bag, left on a nearby desk when she went out, over her shoulder, and turned on her heel. She cackled as she went out the door, Caline stepping aside so she could leave, her so-called star student (really a punching bag) singing a familiar song under her breath: “Do you hear the people sing?”