MESS HALL

Shit. All you heard was shit. But that shit was only about you, thanks to that snobby woman who couldn’t keep her damn mouth shut.

“This is a joke.” You muttered under your cold breath, shaking your head as the shit-talker giggled to her mates behind you in the que for food.

You stood there, your knuckles turning paler by the moment as they clenched with irritation.

Ghost was seated on a nearby table, with: Soap, Gaz, Price - his eyes lingering on you coldly.