"Don't worry, you'll be kicking yourself for not taking me seriously soon enough!"
Andrew rolled his eyes. "So, are we doing this or what, you eyesore? If you're not up for it, I'm out. Got bigger fish to fry!"
The grin on Carl's face slowly disappeared, and his eyes squinted in warning, "Listen, kid, don't get too cocky! I'm usually a chill guy! You can diss my healing hands or say I can't throw a punch to save my life!
"However, if there's one thing off-limits, it's dissing my looks! I'm telling you, I'm as dashing as Henry Cavill himself! Your snide remarks? They cut deep, man."
Andrew could not help but laugh, giving Mosby's ace another once-over.
"You're comparing yourself to Henry Cavill?" Andrew quizzed him.
Carl arched an eyebrow, "You don't agree?"
Andrew shook his head, "Dude, saying you look like Napoleon Bonaparte is giving you way too much credit. I'm about to drop a truth bomb, and it ain't gonna be music to your ears!
"If I were your dad, I would've shoved you right back the second you popped out! Seriously, you're that hideous!"
Carl's face turned stormy in an instant!
He grew his hair long because he thought it made him look super cool, like a brooding artist!
Nobody had ever had the guts to tell him he was ugly to his face!
Except for that brat, Luna, the second daughter of the Phelan family!
When she called him ugly, Carl could not say a thing—she was out of his league!
However, then, some random kid was dissing his dashing looks!
Carl's mind raced with fury, itching to rip the guy's head off!
"No wonder my mentor got so ticked off with you! Andrew, I swear on everything, I'm gonna end you… and I'll make sure you get a taste of dying slowly, feeling the worst kind of pain there is!"
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