Dear Diary

“Dear Diary,

Last night was crap, like most nights outside Philadelphia. Let’s see…

I fell in the lake. Who the FUCK has a party on an island? Especially one that you get rowed out to? Morons.

So yeah. Fell in lake. Shoes ruined, suit probably ruined.

Met some more Invictus. Wanted time alone with Molly, but Simon from Tampa decided to put on a display of really awful manners. Have I mentioned how much I hate Tampa? Honestly, if God were as good as He claims, the whole state of Florida would fall into the fucking ocean. Or, at the least, Tampa would burn to the goddamn ground, and then salt would rain down on it from above. Tampa Bay: the septic tank of the toilet state.

I hate Tampa. I really do.

So after Simon decided to run his mouth off too much, Molly lost her shit. Not without reason, but still – romantic night over. Had to block the door so Dickstick could get away. Molly and her friend forced me to use Sovereignty. I *hate* doing that. It tips my hand too far. I’m supposed to look harmless, for fuck’s sake. Easily underestimated, that’s me.

Sigh.

Now Molly’s furious at me and Simon’s making things worse by still talking. Note to self: start looking into a muzzle for Clan Gangrel. I can probably spin this to my advantage, or at least to repair the damage, but it’s time and effort that I shouldn’t have to spend. And it’s more time that Molly’s furious at me – in this case, for something that I told her up front would happen. She knows the command of my Blood, but that doesn’t stop her from being pissed.

Oh Red. You are unquestionably a woman. If you weren’t such a woman… well. To be fair, if you weren’t such a woman, you wouldn’t be worth all my time.”

-From the diary of Joseph DiStefano, Prince of Philadelphia