"Next you're gonna tell me y'all get a biweekly paycheck."
"I mean, there is a stipend for those who don't age out before eighteen-"
"Oh, fuck this, I'm transferring to New Rome, can you send like, the admission paperwork over this thing?" Leo asks..
"No," Frank says, looking much too pleased. He clears his throat and tries to sound disapproving. "Besides, after everything Camp Half Blood did to throw you a nice party?"
"Nuh-uh," Leo shakes his head and sets his cup down. "That was my co-workers being cool. Management hasn't done anything for me. And you can't let management buy you with the occasional party when it'd be so much better for them to, hm, I don't know, pay you fairly."
"I guess you'll just have to come here after all," Frank says, not quite pulling off the 'woe is me' tone he's aiming for. Then he drops that façade and grins. Leo thinks he catches a flash of sharp incisors. "Benefits and our parties are better."