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persephone lee hated saoirse byrne for two reasons.

one, because the insufferable irishwoman seemed prejudiced against immigrant asians. 

and two, persie would consistently catch the woman staring at herself in the mirror.

anger. pain. guilt. eyes had never been so clear to persie as saoirse's were.

the woman didn't scream out to the world from the top of her lungs, "i'm prettier and more fortunate than you in all circumstances considered, please throw upon me all your admiration and affections," but persie saw it in the way saoirse walked.

right foot first, always. left foot last, because left-handers were the devil's children and it was a universally accepted truth. what person, other than the clinically insane, would give cause to be labeled as part of the devil's children. what a strange woman saoirse was. how very, very strange.

persie felt scorched for being a left-handed, immigrant asian. an unfortunately ugly one with no chance of better circumstances. her life was a furnace fire that seemed to house demon after demon after demon.

she had an overreactive imagination, she would never deny it. but sometimes, she couldn't disagree with such a heavy gut feeling like this.

composed and compelling, saoirse byrne was insane. a woman capable of murder and the demise of all of humanity. right? persephone sure thought so.

oh, stop. persephone was just thinking a little too hard in that moment.

juxtaposing the red-headed female, rosie darcy, however, was sweet. almost too sweet. like a stack of chocolate pancakes coated in syrup and honey, she was an overload of diabetic substances. 

"nasty." persie stared down at her dinner of raw salmon and caesar salad, her thoughts running askew. "i feel too poor to eat this."

"as you should. this privileged meal was so graciously given by the very man we shall compete for. do not take his kindness for granted." saoirse said, making her point clear by forcing an extra helping of salmon on persie's plate.

the salmon was so pink, like roselyn's cheeks. persephone recoiled.

roselyn stared at her fork, evidently uncomfortable by the tension resonating between the two other women.

"why are you here, rosie?" persie asked out of the blue.

surprised, roselyn quickly swallowed her food, "my family has never taken competition seriously, but i didn't care much for anything competitive in general. however, my older brother dared me to find a husband by such means if i lost in a drinking contest. because, well, he loved the thrill of rivalry and hot blood." she smiled, "obviously, i lost. i couldn't down the peach vodka as fast as him, the sly drunkard."

saoirse's jaw tightened, "what a stupid way to lose your life." she whispered.

roselyn looked at her curiously, "i didn't die over it, it wasn't that serious of a bet."

saoirse shook her head and refused to comment anymore.

"anyway, why are you here, persephone?" roselyn asked, slightly shaken.

the girl frowned, "call me persie!"

"i like the sound of persephone, though."

"oh, hush. the sound o' my name is irrelevant."

"goddamn imbeciles, squabbling like a pair of fenced up geese." saoirse slammed her hands on the table. "just call her persie, roselyn. god, i hate this."

saoirse seemed to realized how loud her words were and she stared at her lap in silence, unwilling to meet either of the other women's eyes.

persephone chuckled in response to the awkward atmosphere, "y'all are so tense. i recommend massages."

the corners of roselyn's mouth turned upwards, while saoirse's fell downwards.

"i could definitely use a massage for my upper shoulders," roselyn's hand instinctively reached to stroke her neck, "but not right now. anyway, why are you competing for py's proposal, persie?"

"my eomma and appa came from korea four years before i was born and have always been poor. they barely 'ad enough to even immigrate here. i don't have no chance in marryin' by my looks, but i wanted to support 'em with a good union. so i came here because i don't think i'm stupid enough to lose." persie said, rather calmly. "i'd get hell from my family if i came back empty-handed. turns out runnin' away from yer parents ain't the way to get on their good sides."

persie smiled, but it didn't reach her eyes. not completely. "my lil' brother is da only one i trust in my family. he sent me a letter a day after i came here and told me that my eomma burned all my books. apparently, i'm not allowed to come home anymore." 

"can you blame them for disowning you? you probably seemed ungrateful. two immigrant parents just trying to make a living and give their kids a better life." saoirse commented, ignoring the tears brimming in persie's eyes. "and you tossed it all out of the window when you ran away."

roselyn rested a comforting hand on persie's shoulder.

"saoirse, i think she knows." roselyn said, glaring at the red-headed irishwoman. "give it a rest, will ya?"

saoirse pursed her lips. she took her knife and stabbed the oak table with every ounce of her strength. with a resounding huff of frustration, she abruptly excused herself from the table with roselyn and persie staring in shock.

as saoirse ascended up the stairs she sighed with great sorrow and composure.

"don't sleep with the lights off. he doesn't like the dark." she said and was gone.