Who: Liam and Amy
Where: Liam's penthouse in downtown Philly
When: Sunday evening
What: A night together
Rating: It's Jen and I, let's be real, it's probably high.
Status: Ongoing | Closed



Liam leaned back in his over-stuffed, fine leather chair, hand holding the phone to his ear as he kicked one leg up over the other leg, staring out the window into the Philly skyline. His breathing was calm, and his voice was low, but it was loud enough to hear by anyone walking in, and though his voice was steady, it was anything but relaxed, it was angry, "I don't fucking care what he's going through, tell that shitstain that if he doesn't have it by the end of the week, we'll cut off his balls and send them to his mother in Indiana."

He rubbed at his temple, sighing as the other spoke shakily through the receiver on the other end, "If you can't handle it without pissing down your leg, then you can add your own pair to the fucking box, got it? Now get it done, get that money to me, or I'll put you in a fucking box next to him. Do whatever you have to, and don't call me again tonight. This is my private time, and it's not to be meddled with for pathetic squabbles like this." He then slammed the phone down in the receiver and Liam turned around to face the door, grabbing up the expensive glass of scotch, and lifted it to his lips to sip, staring at the computer in front of him.

He set the glass down, dressed in all black suit and black button up that was half undone, with a black undershirt beneath. He took another sip, and then closed his eyes as he rubbed at his temple.