<em>Ingrid, considering homicide very seriously</em><br/><br/>She took the shot from Myobi, knowing that she needed to get the hell out of dodge and up to her studio/apartment rather quickly.  It was a frustrating thing to know that she was close to losing her temper at something so important.  Shooting it back in one large, throat burning gulp, she let the alcohol warm her from her lips to her stomach.  Smiling at the slow burn, she took a deep breath in through her nose and exhaled it from her mouth, though not in Aline's face.<br/><br/>Morgan's testicles were in serious danger as he insulted her work.  He was treading on thin ice and if he realized it, he didn't show it. She never insulted his work, he'd gone too far.<br/><br/>Saying nothing as Myo steered them to the waiting area, Ingrid's attention turned toward the elevator.   Her fists clenched and unclenched listening to him drone on and on was really grating on her nerve. Her last one and it was already frayed.<br/><br/>He was asking for it. Seriously asking for it.  No one insulted her like that and didn't get an earful.  She wanted to kick his face in, tears burning in her eyes as her lips all but disappeared into a thin line.  The two shots weren't enough.  "Fuck you, you stupid bastard," she hissed at him.<br/><br/>She took the stairs up to her studio, not wanting to be near the same elevator that he'd used.  She was out of breath and had mascara and eyeliner trailing streaks down her face.  She couldn't take much more. Everything was falling to hell and crashing down around her.<br/><br/>[continued in Ingrid's Studio]<br/>