"What's the matter, feeling down?" John Sinclair saw her silence and couldn't help but snark.
Isabella Xyler glanced at him and then turned her head away.
Seeing this.
John Sinclair smirked and muttered under his breath, "Could she really be upset? What's so good about that pretty boy."
Claire Green heard his muttering, and a hint of amusement appeared in her eyes. These two would have a lot to see in the future.
She glanced at Isabella Xyler in front and casually sent out a few words.
...
Collective Academy.
Edward Monroe sat on the ground, holding a bottle of wine and gulping it down, surrounded by scattered empty bottles.
Suddenly.
He looked down at the Weibo post he had sent and chuckled lowly, but as he laughed, he started to sob, like a trapped young beast.
No matter how talented a disfigured person is, they can never stand on the big stage again.
Just then.
A text message popped up.
[Nine o'clock, Enchant Bar.]
