"You can call me callous, but you don’t know one fucking thing about me. You have this little fucking life with dinners with your parents on Sundays, and drinks after work with friends, and on your birthday, three people throw you a fucking party. And you get to giggle about how it’s  so funny  so many people love you, and it’s such an inconvenience to you, isn’t it Granger?" He mocked in a singsong voice that was riddled with loathing, seething disgust. "Your sweet little fucking lucky life?" He shook his head, incredulous, the rage teeming at the surface. He was taller than her, towering over her now. "Fuck you and your stupid, happy little bullshit birthday party" he mocked, regarding her with utter repulsion. 