Harley's body sinks into the cold concrete of the fountain, the air around her taking on a melancholic hue. She gazes blankly ahead, her mind a whirlwind of emotions and confusion. After waiting for what seemed like an eternity, it's becoming increasingly clear that they've been stood up. She refuses to accept it, desperately clinging to the idea that they'd never do this to her.

Her thoughts are interrupted by the laughter of children, running past the fountain, unaware of the danger that lies within. The sound seems to taunt her, fueling her fury even more. Her hands clench into fists, nails digging into her palms in anger. She can't allow this to happen, this injustice can't go unpunished. Her eyes narrow as the kids approach the fountain, a mischievous grin spreading across her lips.

In one swift motion, she draws her silent gun, aiming straight at the balloons. The children's screams of horror are quickly drowned out by the sound of popping rubber, “Now.! that- is more like it.” Harley revels in it. She blows the smoke off the end of her weapon, a satisfied smirk etched on her face.