Living with Musicians
Prelude
New York an interesting place when one starts living in it. Despite it’s basis upon a fast paced lifestyle, there are many things that could be considered slower than a slug . Recently you moved into an apartment located in the upper-east side of Manhattan with your older brother. He has been supporting you for some time now, ever since you graduated from college. After you graduated your parents had retired and moved away, leaving you in the care of your older brother in New York City. And under his care he managed to get you into the NYU medical program.
At the moment you’re just browsing the internet, looking at videos on youtube, and checking out what people are doing on Facebook. What you really needed to do, was search for an apartment. Living with your brother was fun, but living on the couch was not fun. It hurt your back, and you could feel something crawling in the couch. Your life was similar to Jeremy Lin, however the differences were that you didn’t go to Harvard, and you weren’t good at basketball.
But living on his couch was tedious, and he was too lazy to buy you a bed. Which gave you the idea of renting out an apartment. It’s a good idea because it would give your brother space for him and his girlfriend, it would give you more space, and it would prohibit your brother from messing with your Xbox and laptop. But right now, you’re living with him until you store the sufficient funds for renting a one room apartment. It’s the end of the semester, which would probably give you enough time to apartment hunt. So why not? You decide to type in the google search “Apartments for rent, New York.”
You feel a water bottle smack against your face. Your head moves to the right,as you remove your headphones.
Confused as to what just happened the only thing you can say is, “The fuck?”
“Hey tubs, whattup?” You hear your brother say sarcastically.
“What was that for?” You ask, rubbing the side of your face.
“Listen, I gotta tell you something.” He walks over and places a hand on your shoulder.
“Gotta kick ya’ out for a bit, Rena is coming over.” He seems displeased about kicking you out.
Living in an apartment with your brother is quite awkward, especially when his girlfriend comes over. There were some nights where she would randomly show up for dinner, which would be quite awkward, but you respected her. Once in awhile she would spend the holidays with you too, recently she celebrated Thanksgiving with you and your brother. You remember the wishbone incident, where your brother punched you in the chest because you got the bigger part of the wishbone. But today she was just going to come over to hang out with your brother.
“Please don’t make a mess on my couch.” You approach a dresser that you and your brother share, and assemble appropriate clothing for chilly New York weather.
“I’ll be sure to take a shit in the couch.” He playfully chuckles as he punches you in the shoulder.
“You are a sick person.” You slightly chuckle as you slink into jeans and a nice warm Columbia jacket.
You take extra accessories with you as well, specifically your wallet, phone, iPod, and keys. Never want to be locked out of the apartment when Rena’s over. NEVER. You walk out of your room and grab some money off of the counter.
“I left some money on the table for you!” You hear your brother say from the bathroom.
“Thanks!” You yell as tie your shoes and make you open the door to leave the apartment.
Closing the door behind yourself, you walk straight into your neighbor who was carrying a bunch of groceries. Your next door neighbor, Mr. Waxler, an english professor at NYU.
“Sorry Mr. Waxler!” You exclaim as you try to help him pick up his scattered fruits and other goods.
“It’s alright! Don’t worry about it!” He laughs as he helps pick up his scattered fruit.
In no time the oranges were in their correct bags, “Sorry about the mess Mr. Waxler!” You ran away from him as fast as you can.
Waxler just scratches his head in confusion as he sees you quickly run to the elevators. Living on the fourth floor of an apartment building was nice. Elevators are nice. You press the generic “Going down!” button, and wait for the elevator. Eyeing your surroundings, you see the the management has changed the paint in the hallways.
“From yellow, to light red. Or is it pink? Nah, light red.” You say.
The elevator door opens behind you, and you step in. Luckily it was empty. It’s quite awkward to be with one one other person in the elevator. You press a button for the elevator to descend to the first floor. Just as the door opens again, you sprint out of the elevator, determined to bash out the front door like a flying peacock.
Do peacocks eve- NEVERMIND THAT. I need to find something to preoccupy my time.
Your phone vibrates as you halt to a screeching stop. Your shoes really need to stop being so squeaky. The phone says that there’s a text message from the brother.
“Please don’t bash out the front doors again, remember that time when you rolled your ankle? And I had to come down and get you?” You shivered at the reminder, so many calf raises, and so much physical therapy.
You were envious of your brother for being such a successful Physical Therapist. Since your brother’s reminder was burned into the back of your mind, you walk out of the fancy schmancy apartment building. Along the way, you encounter a group of tourists, the Equestrian kind.
UGH, THEY MOVE SO SLOWLY!
You try to maneuver around the group of ponies, but cannot get past. Tourists are the worst kind of people, let alone ponies. Ponies and stallions were greeted by humans pretty well, while others thought they were quite awkward. Though it’s quite interesting how they got on this rock in the first place, and how easily they were accepted.
Lets bring it back to the beginning of human and pony interaction. The Bermuda Triangle, that mysterious area that houses many of the legends and myths that plague the minds of people around the world. When others originally referenced the “Bermuda Triangle” it’s usually in correlation with unknown ship and airplane disappearances. But what humans didn’t expect, was a portal connecting Earth to the ponified land of Equestria. That’s right, the Bermuda Triangle housed a portal connecting Earth to Equestria. Such an unlikely turn out when it comes to the Bermuda Triangle, because there were many theories about aliens, Gods, or even Atlantis existing within that mysterious imaginary shape. But no, it gave us ponies.
If there was a portal in said triangle, whatever happened to those aircraft carriers? The missing planes? The missing ships? Celestia and her sister Luna, the leaders of Equestria, had explained the whole reason why those large modes of transportation disappeared. Apparently, they disappeared because the portal draws energy from all objects near it, but the downside to that portal is that it requires too much energy. After the discovery of the portal many of the ships and airplanes that had disappeared within the Triangle had been found deep in the water near the portal. Most of those things were salvaged from the water and brought to museums within the US.
They even have some exhibits about those ships within the Smithsonian. You remember visiting it with your brother and your parents before they left. But what slightly hurts is the memory of your parents begging you to take photos with them before they left the United States for good.
The world accepted ponies as one of their own, and as they assimilated into human civilization many jobs and occupations followed. Along with some famous forms of entertainment, such as the famous “Wonderbolts” and even a very popular DJ, known as “DJ PON3”. Some would say that ponies added some excitement to the world, while others would disagree. In your opinion, if they were peaceful as they say they were, what’s the problem? Anyway, as more ponies came, the government had to issue passports and visas to the influx of Equestrian immigrants. As for people, if they wanted to go to Equestria, they could go there on vacation, or fill out applications for a visa.
What’s interesting was that the President got to meet the Equestrian Princesses, Celestia and Luna. What a sight, seeing Celestia and Luna for the first time on TV. The most interaction you’ve ever had with a pony was when you were still in college. When DJ-PON3 held a performance in New York. After succumbing to the begging from a couple of your friends, they managed to get you to come to her performance. After paying a very expensive ticket price, you yelled at your friends for not telling you the price of those tickets. Let’s just say it was a fortune.
Her performance was amazing, and totally worth the ticket. Although what made that night better was really unexpected. After her performance your friends wanted to stay and get an autograph from the famous DJ PON3. What you didn’t know was that there was going to be a large line. While waiting in line with your friends, you decided to go to the bathroom. When you entered the bathroom, you heard an accumulated groan. Maybe she decided to pack up and leave. You went on with your business, and finish up with washing your hands.
You walked out the bathroom door, to meet face to face with the illustrious DJ Pon3. Her magenta eyes met with yours in an awkward silence.
She chuckled and asked, “Are you afraid of heights?” breaking the silence.
You shake your head side to side.
“Well your fly is.” She broke out into flat out laughter.
Your face turned an extreme shade of red, as you zipped up.
But because of your embarrassment, you asked her if you could get autographs for your friends and a picture with her. She said yes to all of them. And as you took a picture with her, you got to post it on facebook. And also, you got her number, even though you had no use for it. But you kept it in your phone anyway. Why would a pony have a phone anyway?
Despite your sidetracking memory, you were craving sustenance. Food, and drink you need. You decide to buy sweet tea as you pass a Mc Donalds, which is only a dollar. Such an amazing deal. Aside from your thirst, it was necessary to acquire nourishment, so you decide to stop by a bakery that specified in making muffins. When you step into the amazing store, you’re greeted with a cornucopia of smells coming from different types of freshly made muffins. But what distracts you from your craving, is the cross eyed mare looking at you from a table in the store. You look at her and wave, she replies with the same including a smile.
You look to the menu plastered to the ceiling as the current working pony behind the counter asks you for your order. You look at the employee, and ask for a poppy seed muffin. She smiles and turns around to pick out the freshly made muffin of your choice. She places the pastry on the counter and asks for $3.50.
“Thank you!” You place the money on counter.
You take a seat on an empty table near yourself and sip on your warm coffee while taking little nibbles out of your muffin. As you took your little precise bites, the decal on your coffee cup looked very enticing. You pivoted the paper cup in many directions, taking in every characteristic. The cup had a wonderbolt decal on it including their postermare, Spitfire. The Wonderbolts are the pony equivalent of the Blue Angels, because they both fly and perform amazing tricks while flying. The idea brought back some good memories.
You remember your brother took both you and Rena to a Wonderbolts Airshow when ponies had recently came. It was really cool seeing some of the tricks of the prestigious flying pegasi, being that they were only ponies. Your favorite flyer during the show was their postermare, Spitfire. She was pretty.
While staring intently at your cup you notice that someone or somepony is doing the same. Your head turns to the right to see the same cross-eyed pegasus that waved at you before, staring at your coffee cup.
“Hello?” You say.
Her head shakes and her attention is directed at you. “Oh! Hello!” She hoof waves with an adorable smile. She shifts her blonde mane away from her face, and tries to adjust her eyes slightly, as her face becomes slightly scrunched.
D’awww.
“Why are you staring at me?” She asks, seeming somewhat displeased.
“No rea- Waitaminute. Why were you staring at my cup in the first place?” You ask demandingly.
“Cause it looked fun!” She smiles, answering without a care.
You blinked at her response, slightly dumbfounded. “Hi, my na-”
“The name’s Ditzy! But everyone calls me Derpy.” The blond mare extends a hoof.
“Nice to meet you. Der- I mean, Ditzy.” You shook her hoof, replying with nervous smile.
“As I was saying, my name i-”
"Sorry I gotta go! Um. I’ll call you Poppy Seed!” She says hurriedly, shifting her head to the door.
“Why Poppy Seed?” You ask, this pony was very extraordinary.
“Cause of the muffin you bought!” She smiled happily answering your question.
How did she know the muff-
“Gotta fly! I’ll see ya’ later Poppy Seed!” She flew out the door.
Your face scrunched inward, trying to figure out the encounter you just had with a blond cross-eyed mare. Your thoughts are interrupted by the pony waiting at the counter for more customers.
“That’s Derpy for ya’. She’s a strange one, but she means well.” The working pony says.
That sounded offensive..
Shrugging off what the counter mare had said, and threw out your wrapper after finishing your muffin. Poppyseed is a pretty good muffin type. Maybe blueberry might’ve been better. After throwing out your wrapper, you went out the store doors into cold New York. Hopping on the closest train, and after a train switches you manage to get to Port Authority. After a few minutes of walking, you were inside Central Park. Sitting on the closest bench, and pulled out your phone to check if you missed anything.
Noticing a text message from your brother, a missed call notification, and a facebook notification. Checking the text message first, being that your brother never texted you unless it was important. The text read “Rena left, you can come home now. PS: We need to talk.”
What does he need to talk about?
Shrugging off the idea, and started to make your way back home. It’s 5 o’clock, and it’s almost dark, the train car you enter is extremely packed and there are no seats available. Which leaves you to stand and hold onto the train pole. You feel something nudge your back pocket and you turn around quickly, about to smack whoever touched your sweet ass. Turning to see that it was a unicorn who accidentally touched you with her horn. She awkwardly smiled and apologized.
Nodding at her apology returning to your original position and holding the train pole to keep your balance. Soon you reach your destination and make your way to the apartment. Your brother greets you with a tipped glass as you enter while a moan slips past his lips.
“Have you been drinking?” He notices the worry in your tone.
“Yep.” He slams his shot glass on the table, breaking it in the process.
“Want some?” He asks.
“No thank you.” You raise your hands in disagreement.
Walking past your brother to retrieve a water bottle from the fridge. He taps his knuckle on the granite of the counter table as you take a seat next to him. You finish a quarter of the water bottle before your brother says something to you.
“Listen, I’ve been looking at your history.” He says.
“You what?” Your right eye twitches.
“You’ve been looking at apartments.” He sighed.
Thank God.
“Anyway, I was going to support you on that idea. I think you need to be living on your own, or maybe with a roommate.” He continues.
“Why do you think that?” You inquire, the interest within you piqued.
He simply smiles, “Because I did.”
Recalling the years in which your brother went to school in the city. Every other month he would invite you to hangout with him for the weekend. Sometimes he would let you drink, and other times you both would go order some fast food and play video games. No matter what you both did it was mostly meant for fun, because it gave your brother a break from classes and it gave you time to see your brother. But ever since you started to live with each other, that time spent has somewhat lost it’s luster.
“Why don’t we just grab your computer and look now?” He asks.
“How about.. A two room apartment with one bathroom?” Your brother says.
Opening up Google Chrome, you typed in the taskbar “available apartments in New York”.
A large amount of results appears on the computer screen as your brother slumps onto your shoulder. Scrutinizing each result as if each was the chest of a bodacious woman. Happening at the time is the analyzation of the results of your recent search. During your relentless search, many hours had gone by. Nothing good had came out of it.
“I don’t think this is nice.” You say, somewhat irritated from the lack of successful results.
“Listen! Look!” He screams pointing at another result.
Immediately the cursor had made its way over to the clickable link.
“Two room apartment.. two bathroom..” Your brother recites.
“Must be tolerant of ponies.” Thinking back, some people weren’t so tolerant about the Equestrian denizens.
Your brother smiles at you.
What’s up with that devious smile?
He runs away snatching your computer.
Oh no..
Your brother runs into the bathroom locking the door behind him.
“YOU SON OF A BITCH! OPEN UP THE DOOR!”
“You’re going to be living with a pony fiddler. Tee-hee!” Human and pony intercourse was somewhat considered taboo.
(A pony fiddler is someone that fiddles with ponies. Imagine fiddle in the dirtiest way possible.)
You had forgotten that you left Gmail signed in always..
Fuck.
Your struggle against the locked bathroom door ends when you hear the toilet flush and the door crack open.
“I’ve emailed the roommate. I’ll just tell you now, their email is ‘TheCellist’.”
“Why’d you do that?” You groan.
“Cause you wouldn’t do it yourself.” He was right, although his snickering wasn’t appreciated.
“Now, do you want whiskey or do you want beer?” He holds up a bottle of Johnnie Walker and two bottles of Samuel Adams.
“...” You remain silent and refresh your email.
“Come on! Just have a drink! It’ll be fun.” He exaggerates his smile.
“Listen man, I don’t need any of your shi-” You say refreshing the page, when your jaw locks.
“W-what?” He nudges your shoulder, questioning your actions.
“...” Your mouth decides not to move.
“Come on answer me dude.” He shakes your shoulder showing some concern.
Your mouth manages to move to as you point at the newly received message. “They replied..”
“No way! Dude! Open it!” Your brother was overexuberant.
“.. No!” You scream, intent on ending his fun.
“But I didn-”
“Come on!” He pleads.
“Fine.” You comply, succumbing to the pressure.
Opening the message you see an exam like reply to your brother’s message.
“Don’t tl;dr man..” Your brother groans as you move the cursor over the paragraphs.
“Dear new roommate, you’re the first to reply to this advertisement. Blah, blah, blah meeting. Central park. I’ll be waiting by the fountain.” The rest of the email was skimmed.
Feeling an arm make it’s way around your neck, your brother initiates a headlock.
“Congratz little bro!” He screams into your ear. “Looks like you scored an apartment! IT’S DRINKING GAME TIME!”
“No. I don’t want t-” the arm had released it’s death grip, making its way over to the fridge.
It was surprising on how your brother kept a stash in the fridge.
“What the.. Where’d my?” Seeing your brother flustered over a such a thing was silly.
“It’s gone.” He sighs.
“Wanna go to the local bodega?” He gives you a noogie.
“If you stop that, then sure. I’ll go.” The pressure of a certain knuckle had been alleviated.
“Well?” Seeing your brother immediately ready was astonishing.
“You’re so.. Abstruse.” You say.
“Get your socks on, we’re going to the bodega.” He’s smiling so large that it could be
comparable to a caricature.
“But I don’t want to go to th-” You’re interrupted by a fist slamming on the table.
“I’ll just go put on these socks.” Running to your room, you grab your freshest pair of
the things that save your feet from the harsh cold winter.
Slipping into the closest pair of shoes you have, you walked out of your room to join
your brother on his quest to hunt for the “Emotion Provoking” Mister B. Double O. Z-E.
After a short walk from the apartment complex, your brother motions for you to stop with the generic hand formation that military men would use.
“Christ’s sake.” You pass him and enter the bodega.
He follows behind you forming a two man formation, immediately breaking as soon as the liquor section was found. He really wanted to make this night special.
“I’d like to purchase these.” That person you live with walks up to the counter and places five items for the cashier to scan.
These five items were the worst things imaginable, so horrendous that your liver shook from fear. These diabolical liquids were known as Smirnoff and Four Loko, it seems like your brother isn’t going to work tomorrow.
“You know that you’re not young anymore, right?” You reach out to him, placing a hand on his shoulder.
“Well, you just got an apartment, I’m going to help pay for it, plus the you know. I think we both need this.” He smiles at you reassuringly.
“Good grief.” You sigh.
After purchasing the liver destroying solutions both you and your brother make the short journey back to the apartment. When reaching the apartment, he hands you one of the Smirnoff bottles he had purchased. It’s russian lettering and satin red brands really do stick out from the bottle.
“Finish it.” He says while opening a bottle himself.
No way..
Now, the bottle in your hands isn’t a normal beer bottle. It’s something that others would expect a Russian man to drink and shed a few tears. Another smirnoff bottle came in contact with yours, ruining your train of thought.
“To an apartment!” Your sibling screams, taking a swig from his bottle and turning on the TV.
Contemplating whether or not you’ll regret the decision in the morning, you grab your computer to open the email behind this shabby party between you and your older sibling. Scanning it again for major details about your meeting, the person at the other end had scheduled an informal meeting at 10AM, a reasonable time, in Central Part at the Bethesda Fountain.”
Looking at your brother, you see that he’s taking this bottle like a champion. Despite him laughing at something that wasn’t really funny, he made his way through half of the bottle. He turns to you and smacks your shoulder.
“Drink some!” He says pointing at your bottle, “You haven’t even opened it!” He frowns.
Reluctantly you pick up your bottle, and slowly twisted the cap. The organs in your body were begging you not to take that first sip.
Gulp.
The muscles in your face contort, squeezing your lips together as you take the first sip sealing your fate. Regret was something moving through your system as the bitter tasting solution left a terrible taste in your mouth.
Gulp.
Again you force yourself into taking another swig. Placing your computer to the side, you join your brother in watching Adventure Time.
The episode concludes after Jake tells Finn that his puppies don’t need him anymore. Surprisingly you remember some of the puppies’ names. There was TV, Viola, Jake Junior, Kim Kil Whan, and Charlie. They were adorable.
Why is the bottle a lot lighter?
Hours pass filled with laughter and flat out stupidity.
Glancing at your bottle, and more than half of it has disappeared.
“Whoa. Where’d. The. Drink go?” You ask.
You stare at the TV, only to be mesmerized by whatever was airing. Currently you were staring at “How I Met Your Mother.” Originally you never thought that it was funny, but looking at it now, you reconsidered your opinion. Ted was a pretty hilarious character, including most of his friends. Your favorite out of the bunch was the illustrious Barney Stinson, a man that had a wardrobe consisting of many suits. Even though thoughts like these were running through your head, your mouth was spewing out something similar to what a person’s ass would do when introduced to Siracha hot chili sauce.
“THIS IS SO FUCKING FUNNY.” You scream into your brothers ear.
Apparently he passed out.
You continue to talk to him anyway.
The last milliliter of vodka was laughing at you, saying that you couldn’t finish it. Instead of smashing the bottle against the table; you prove that last milliliter wrong, by finally devouring it.
YOU DID IT!
You finished the bottle!
A trip to the hospital seems likely, but instead you sat there loathing in your blurry vision and nauseating atmosphere.
You close your eyes.
Goodnight!
**
The ground hits you like a ton of bricks as you finally adjust your eyes to the morning light passing through the blinds of the apartment windows. Struggling to get attain footing your head comes in contact with the glass center table. Again you crumble to the ground, immediately regretting last night’s decision. Soon your hearing comes back as everything finally comes into place. As your five senses find their way back, you’re introduced to photosensitivity and massive headaches. (-5 HP/second)
“FUCK!” You scream, finally feeling the pain surging to every nerve in your brain.
Why does this hurt so much?
Your body was saying, “I TOLD YOU SO”, and so a hangover was fitting. Although this wasn’t your first, it was the worst of them all. Quickly getting to your feet, you ran to the bathroom to raid the medicine cabinet. Not really paying attention to the floor, you slip on something viscous and vile smelling.
Oh God.
Immediately getting to your feet not caring about whatever you slipped in, you rummage through the medicine cabinet searching for the solution for your problems. You empty the cabinet’s contents into the sink. Quickly grabbing each container to scrutinize each label, if it didn’t have the correct label, it ended up in the bathtub. Your search for the Holy Grail ceases as you finally found what you were looking for, the Holy Bayer Asprin. You grab the carton and saunter into the kitchen. Opening the dishwasher to take out a glass was challenging, because the dishwasher seemed to be against your quest to heal your pain.
There were no glasses in the appliance made by General Electric. In a fit of rage, you slam your hands against the cabinet, hell bent on finding something that would contain your medicine. After a few seconds of angrily rummaging through the cabinets, you find a glass that wasn’t broken. Filling the glass with warm water you place the asprin in, hearing a satisfying sizzling sound emerging from the glass.
After the asprin dissipates leaving a slightly cloudier version of your water, chugging it down seems like the best idea. When inhaling the cloudy water your surroundings become a bit clearer. Seeing the internal digital clock in the cable box you notice that the current time is 9:00.
Wait a minute.
Brain fart.
“It’s nine o’clock!”
An hour before your impression meeting with your soon to be “roommate”.
Placing the glass in the kitchen sink gently, you sprint to the bathroom. You forgot about the gross floor, again slipping on the viscous liquid.
“AUGH! IT SMELLS!” The smells emerging from the floor were appalling. Too appalling to describe.
Just imagine smelling the armpit of a man who works out everyday, but never takes a shower.
That disgusting.
Landing face first in the gross mixture, it’s a struggle to gain your footing. To prevent yourself from slipping again, you immediately toss a towel over the floor.
“Time to take a sho-” The hopes you have of getting clean were halted. You forgot that you threw all of the medicine bottles in the bathtub.
Regretting past decisions is a normal human trait. But it seems like everything is stacked against you this morning. Self control saves you from breaking anything else as you empty the bathtub’s medicinal contents.
Hopping into the bathtub, you turn the dial to the left allowing the water to pass through the shower head. Adjusting the temperature knob under the shower head, you feel the water immediately shift from icecold to a warm and serene temperature. The water comes in contact with your covered skin.
“...” You forgot to take your clothes off.
The odds were just not in your favor this morning.
**
After battling with the evils of your shower, you take a look at the clock. It’s been ten minutes. Running to your room to scavenge for clothing, you pick out boxers, an Adventure Time t-shirt, and skinny khaki jeans. Changing into your newly picked clothing, you shove your feet through a new pair of socks while grabbing your black button up wool jacket.
Opening the blinds to observe the world outside, your eyes are assaulted by the sun’s bright disposition. Shielding your eyes with your arm, you grab a pair of sunglasses from your dresser. Now wearing the sunglasses, you notice that these are your hangover glasses. Black, tinted, and made specifically for the day after.
Perfect.
Glancing at the clock, ten more minutes have passed.
Quickly grabbing your accessories on the dresser, you notice that your phone wasn’t in it’s correct spot. Running your hands over suspicious spots on your dresser, you suspect that the cellular device was hiding on the living room table. Your assumptions are proven when you see your phone on the table.
Slipping the phone into your pocket, you grab your shoe and make sure that everything is in place.
Keys? Check.
Phone? Check.
Wallet? Check.
Time? 9:21 AM.
There’s enough time for you to get on the Subway and get to central park without passing the deadline. Nodding to confirm that you were ready to leave, you plunge into the hallway outside of the apartment.
Closing the door behind you and making your way to the elevator you feel a difference in elevation. Ignoring your suspicions, a brisk walk through the apartment building lobby was in place.
Hearing snickering behind your back, you turn to see who was snickering.
It was a little girl with her father. She was looking at your feet.
Taking a gander at your feet, you finally notice why she was laughing.
Really?
You forgot your other shoe.
It’s really not your morning.
Author's Note
Well, I hope you enjoyed.
Personally, it took a long time to make this chapter.
And it's taking a long time to make the second.
However, thank you for reading.
I hope you enjoy the next chapter as well. <3
Always remember, I love you. <3
