Killing Me Softly

"My name's Han Tao!" he says when you hold the paper out to him. "I work as... well, I worked as an idol. In China. I had my own label and everything-"
"Tao," the girl snapped. "They don't give a shit about that."
"What? Why not?" Tao crossed his arms.
"Because you act like a diva when you talk about that stuff," she said.
"I do not-!"
"You spent the first two days in here bitching about your eyeliner!"
"That's-"
"And your skin!"
"But-"
"And your lack of hair gel! You're a TOTAL diva!"
Tao sticks out his lower lip. "You're so mean, Beka..."
You stare at the two of them, bewildered. The girl notices and rolls her eyes at you.
"Beka," she says. "The name's Beka. Ignore Tao. He's an idiot."
You manage a small smile. Beka gripes without any real malice, and Tao has a sparkle in his eye. You tear off a fresh sticky note: