where; emma's apartment, the office~
what; therapy...and discussion of the "o.g."
Emma held the piece of paper she had found in her foyer by the corner. The least bloody corner. Seriously, that was gross. Her nose wrinkled at several things. A) The blood. B) Was she really administrator again? 'Cause that's not cool. C) Uhhh Francs? Really? France is on Euros now. D) "Madame Frost"? Insulting! She's not married. OR OLD. and E) O.G.? Who the hell?
Of course, when Emma read the postscript, she realized just who it was. Madamoiselle Daae...Phantom of the Opera. O.G. Opera Ghost. Emma groaned and puts her hand to her head, leaving a bloody fingerprint. "Eugh."
There was a knock at the door. Sort of. More like a bodily slapfest at the door. Emma, scrubbing at the fingerprint on her forehead, glared at the door. "Anakin, stop that."
[ooc: went out for emergency mood-boosting drinks; will be back for tags later ]