The driver had just finished listening to Soir Coffee’s news, so he turned around to ask, “Oh, you’re there to ask for compensation as well, miss?”
“What compensation?” Queenie frowned. She didn’t like the driver butting into her business.
But since she was wearing a cap, the driver didn’t notice her annoyance, so he continued, “It’s all over the Internet. The café’s customers who are at the scene will get compensated. I just sent one of their customers to the hotel earlier.”
Queenie’s frown deepened. “I’m not their customer,” she answered coldly.
The driver realized that Queenie was getting irritated, so he turned around and told her to sit tight as he stepped on the accelerator.
They stopped before a red light a short while later. Coincidentally, a branch of Soir Coffee was right across the traffic light, and the LED screen on the front door was playing its ambassador’s clip.
“There, you see,” the driver started again. “That girl there is Arielle. She’s the ambassador, but guess it’s not her lucky day. Everywhere she goes, she’s bound to get spit on. Poor lady.”
Queenie wasn’t going to talk, but when the driver brought Arielle up, she reflexively looked at the screen.
The lady in the video was wearing a resplendent dress,
standing within a beautiful castle. Her skin was snow white, her beauty transcending reality. Not even the most beautiful celebrity could hold a candle against her.
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