Masterlist
Started: 6/26/24
Last Updated: 02/16/26
Total Works: 3
*Coming Soon* :
*On Hold* : Hidden Desires
Stray Kids:
𝑺𝒕𝒓𝒂𝒚 𝑲𝒊𝒅𝒔 𝑭𝒊𝒄𝒔
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𝐍𝐒𝐅𝐖 𝐀𝐔𝐃𝐈𝐎:
𝑩𝒂𝒏𝒈 𝑪𝒉𝒂𝒏
𝑯𝒚𝒖𝒏𝒋𝒊𝒏
𝑭𝒆𝒍𝒊𝒙

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we're not kids anymore.
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Product Placement

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One Nice Bug Per Day
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Stranger Things
Cosmic Funnies

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Game of Thrones Daily
Lint Roller? I Barely Know Her
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@h-j-b-c
Masterlist
Started: 6/26/24
Last Updated: 02/16/26
Total Works: 3
*Coming Soon* :
*On Hold* : Hidden Desires
Stray Kids:
𝑺𝒕𝒓𝒂𝒚 𝑲𝒊𝒅𝒔 𝑭𝒊𝒄𝒔
𝑆ℎ𝑜𝑟𝑡 𝑆𝑡𝑜𝑟𝑖𝑒𝑠
𝑇𝑟𝑎𝑖𝑙𝑒𝑟𝑠
𝐍𝐒𝐅𝐖 𝐀𝐔𝐃𝐈𝐎:
𝑩𝒂𝒏𝒈 𝑪𝒉𝒂𝒏
𝑯𝒚𝒖𝒏𝒋𝒊𝒏
𝑭𝒆𝒍𝒊𝒙
Ғеʟіх
𝒪𝓃𝑒
𝒯𝓌𝑜
𝐶ℎ𝑎𝑝𝑡𝑒𝑟 3
𝘛𝘩𝘦 𝘥𝘰𝘰𝘳 𝘤𝘭𝘪𝘤𝘬𝘦𝘥 𝘴𝘩𝘶𝘵, 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘴𝘰𝘶𝘯𝘥 𝘦𝘤𝘩𝘰𝘦𝘥 𝘪𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘴𝘶𝘥𝘥𝘦𝘯, 𝘴𝘶𝘧𝘧𝘰𝘤𝘢𝘵𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘴𝘪𝘭𝘦𝘯𝘤𝘦. 𝘛𝘩𝘦 𝘴𝘮𝘪𝘳𝘬 𝘐'𝘥 𝘸𝘰𝘳𝘯 𝘭𝘪𝘬𝘦 𝘢𝘳𝘮𝘰𝘳 𝘮𝘦𝘭𝘵𝘦𝘥 𝘰𝘧𝘧 𝘮𝘺 𝘧𝘢𝘤𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘮𝘰𝘮𝘦𝘯𝘵 𝘐 𝘸𝘢𝘴 𝘢𝘭𝘰𝘯𝘦, 𝘴𝘭𝘪𝘥𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘥𝘰𝘸𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘸𝘢𝘭𝘭 𝘶𝘯𝘵𝘪𝘭 𝘐 𝘸𝘢𝘴 𝘴𝘪𝘵𝘵𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘰𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘧𝘭𝘰𝘰𝘳, 𝘩𝘦𝘢𝘥 𝘪𝘯 𝘮𝘺 𝘩𝘢𝘯𝘥𝘴. 𝘛𝘩𝘦 𝘢𝘥𝘳𝘦𝘯𝘢𝘭𝘪𝘯𝘦 𝘧𝘳𝘰𝘮 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘦𝘯𝘤𝘰𝘶𝘯𝘵𝘦𝘳, 𝘧𝘳𝘰𝘮 𝘴𝘦𝘦𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘧𝘪𝘳𝘦 𝘪𝘯 𝘩𝘦𝘳 𝘦𝘺𝘦𝘴, 𝘥𝘳𝘢𝘪𝘯𝘦𝘥 𝘢𝘸𝘢𝘺, 𝘭𝘦𝘢𝘷𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘣𝘦𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘥 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘧𝘢𝘮𝘪𝘭𝘪𝘢𝘳, 𝘩𝘰𝘭𝘭𝘰𝘸 𝘢𝘤𝘩𝘦."𝘋𝘪𝘴𝘨𝘶𝘴𝘵𝘪𝘯𝘨," 𝘴𝘩𝘦'𝘥 𝘤𝘢𝘭𝘭𝘦𝘥 𝘮𝘦. 𝘛𝘩𝘦 𝘸𝘰𝘳𝘥 𝘸𝘢𝘴 𝘴𝘶𝘱𝘱𝘰𝘴𝘦𝘥 𝘵𝘰 𝘳𝘰𝘭𝘭 𝘰𝘧𝘧, 𝘣𝘶𝘵 𝘪𝘵 𝘴𝘵𝘶𝘤𝘬, 𝘣𝘶𝘳𝘳𝘰𝘸𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘶𝘯𝘥𝘦𝘳 𝘮𝘺 𝘴𝘬𝘪𝘯. 𝘐 𝘱𝘶𝘴𝘩𝘦𝘥 𝘮𝘺𝘴𝘦𝘭𝘧 𝘶𝘱 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘴𝘵𝘶𝘮𝘣𝘭𝘦𝘥 𝘵𝘰𝘸𝘢𝘳𝘥𝘴 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘬𝘪𝘵𝘤𝘩𝘦𝘯, 𝘮𝘺 𝘧𝘦𝘦𝘵 𝘥𝘳𝘢𝘨𝘨𝘪𝘯𝘨.
𝘐 𝘥𝘪𝘥𝘯'𝘵 𝘣𝘰𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘭𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵𝘴. 𝘛𝘩𝘦 𝘮𝘰𝘰𝘯𝘭𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵 𝘴𝘭𝘪𝘤𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘵𝘩𝘳𝘰𝘶𝘨𝘩 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘣𝘭𝘪𝘯𝘥𝘴 𝘸𝘢𝘴 𝘦𝘯𝘰𝘶𝘨𝘩. 𝘐 𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘤𝘩𝘦𝘥 𝘪𝘯𝘵𝘰 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘣𝘢𝘤𝘬 𝘰𝘧 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘩𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘦𝘴𝘵 𝘤𝘢𝘣𝘪𝘯𝘦𝘵, 𝘮𝘺 𝘧𝘪𝘯𝘨𝘦𝘳𝘴 𝘤𝘭𝘰𝘴𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘢𝘳𝘰𝘶𝘯𝘥 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘤𝘰𝘰𝘭, 𝘴𝘮𝘰𝘰𝘵𝘩 𝘤𝘢𝘳𝘥𝘣𝘰𝘢𝘳𝘥 𝘰𝘧 𝘢 𝘴𝘩𝘰𝘦𝘣𝘰𝘹. 𝘔𝘺 𝘩𝘦𝘢𝘳𝘵 𝘣𝘦𝘢𝘵 𝘢 𝘭𝘪𝘵𝘵𝘭𝘦 𝘧𝘢𝘴𝘵𝘦𝘳, 𝘢 𝘵𝘳𝘢𝘪𝘵𝘰𝘳𝘰𝘶𝘴 𝘳𝘩𝘺𝘵𝘩𝘮 𝘐 𝘩𝘢𝘥𝘯'𝘵 𝘧𝘦𝘭𝘵 𝘪𝘯 𝘺𝘦𝘢𝘳𝘴. 𝘐 𝘴𝘢𝘵 𝘰𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘧𝘭𝘰𝘰𝘳, 𝘤𝘳𝘰𝘴𝘴-𝘭𝘦𝘨𝘨𝘦𝘥, 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘭𝘪𝘧𝘵𝘦𝘥 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘭𝘪𝘥. 𝘛𝘩𝘦 𝘴𝘮𝘦𝘭𝘭 𝘩𝘪𝘵 𝘮𝘦 𝘧𝘪𝘳𝘴𝘵—𝘰𝘭𝘥 𝘱𝘢𝘱𝘦𝘳 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘧𝘢𝘪𝘯𝘵, 𝘨𝘩𝘰𝘴𝘵𝘭𝘺 𝘴𝘤𝘦𝘯𝘵 𝘰𝘧 𝘴𝘸𝘦𝘢𝘵 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘤𝘩𝘦𝘢𝘱 𝘴𝘵𝘢𝘨𝘦 𝘮𝘢𝘬𝘦𝘶𝘱.
𝘖𝘯 𝘵𝘰𝘱 𝘸𝘢𝘴 𝘢 𝘱𝘩𝘰𝘵𝘰 𝘰𝘧 𝘮𝘦 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘰𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳 𝘴𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘯 𝘵𝘳𝘢𝘪𝘯𝘦𝘦𝘴, 𝘢𝘳𝘮𝘴 𝘴𝘭𝘶𝘯𝘨 𝘢𝘳𝘰𝘶𝘯𝘥 𝘦𝘢𝘤𝘩 𝘰𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳'𝘴 𝘴𝘩𝘰𝘶𝘭𝘥𝘦𝘳𝘴, 𝘨𝘳𝘪𝘯𝘯𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘬𝘪𝘯𝘥 𝘰𝘧 𝘥𝘦𝘴𝘱𝘦𝘳𝘢𝘵𝘦 𝘩𝘰𝘱𝘦 𝘰𝘯𝘭𝘺 𝘴𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘯𝘵𝘦𝘦𝘯-𝘺𝘦𝘢𝘳-𝘰𝘭𝘥𝘴 𝘤𝘢𝘯 𝘱𝘰𝘴𝘴𝘦𝘴𝘴. 𝘐 𝘸𝘢𝘴 𝘪𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘤𝘦𝘯𝘵𝘦𝘳, 𝘮𝘺 𝘴𝘮𝘪𝘭𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘸𝘪𝘥𝘦𝘴𝘵. 𝘛𝘩𝘦𝘺'𝘥 𝘢𝘭𝘸𝘢𝘺𝘴 𝘴𝘢𝘪𝘥 𝘐 𝘩𝘢𝘥 𝘵𝘩𝘦 "𝘧𝘢𝘯 𝘴𝘦𝘳𝘷𝘪𝘤𝘦" 𝘴𝘮𝘪𝘭𝘦 𝘥𝘰𝘸𝘯 𝘱𝘦𝘳𝘧𝘦𝘤𝘵𝘭𝘺. 𝘐 𝘵𝘰𝘴𝘴𝘦𝘥 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘱𝘩𝘰𝘵𝘰 𝘢𝘴𝘪𝘥𝘦 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘥𝘶𝘨 𝘥𝘦𝘦𝘱𝘦𝘳. 𝘔𝘺 𝘧𝘪𝘯𝘨𝘦𝘳𝘴 𝘣𝘳𝘶𝘴𝘩𝘦𝘥 𝘢𝘨𝘢𝘪𝘯𝘴𝘵 𝘸𝘰𝘳𝘯 𝘧𝘢𝘣𝘳𝘪𝘤 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘱𝘶𝘭𝘭𝘦𝘥 𝘰𝘶𝘵 𝘢 𝘱𝘢𝘪𝘳 𝘰𝘧 𝘴𝘤𝘶𝘧𝘧𝘦𝘥, 𝘤𝘶𝘴𝘵𝘰𝘮-𝘮𝘢𝘥𝘦 𝘥𝘢𝘯𝘤𝘦 𝘴𝘩𝘰𝘦𝘴.
𝘐 𝘳𝘢𝘯 𝘮𝘺 𝘵𝘩𝘶𝘮𝘣 𝘰𝘷𝘦𝘳 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘴𝘤𝘶𝘧𝘧 𝘮𝘢𝘳𝘬𝘴, 𝘦𝘢𝘤𝘩 𝘰𝘯𝘦 𝘢 𝘮𝘦𝘮𝘰𝘳𝘺 𝘰𝘧 𝘢 𝘭𝘢𝘵𝘦-𝘯𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵 𝘱𝘳𝘢𝘤𝘵𝘪𝘤𝘦, 𝘢 𝘮𝘪𝘴𝘴𝘦𝘥 𝘴𝘵𝘦𝘱, 𝘢 𝘤𝘰𝘳𝘳𝘦𝘤𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯 𝘧𝘳𝘰𝘮 𝘢 𝘤𝘩𝘰𝘳𝘦𝘰𝘨𝘳𝘢𝘱𝘩𝘦𝘳. 𝘐'𝘥 𝘭𝘰𝘷𝘦𝘥 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘥𝘢𝘯𝘤𝘪𝘯𝘨. 𝘓𝘰𝘷𝘦𝘥 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘧𝘦𝘦𝘭𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘰𝘧 𝘮𝘺 𝘣𝘰𝘥𝘺 𝘮𝘰𝘷𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘪𝘯 𝘱𝘦𝘳𝘧𝘦𝘤𝘵 𝘴𝘺𝘯𝘤 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘮𝘶𝘴𝘪𝘤, 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘣𝘶𝘳𝘯 𝘪𝘯 𝘮𝘺 𝘮𝘶𝘴𝘤𝘭𝘦𝘴, 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘤𝘭𝘢𝘳𝘪𝘵𝘺 𝘰𝘧 𝘢 𝘱𝘦𝘳𝘧𝘦𝘤𝘵𝘭𝘺 𝘦𝘹𝘦𝘤𝘶𝘵𝘦𝘥 𝘳𝘰𝘶𝘵𝘪𝘯𝘦. 𝘐𝘵 𝘸𝘢𝘴 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘰𝘯𝘭𝘺 𝘵𝘪𝘮𝘦 𝘮𝘺 𝘣𝘳𝘢𝘪𝘯 𝘴𝘩𝘶𝘵 𝘶𝘱. 𝘉𝘶𝘵 𝘪𝘵 𝘸𝘢𝘴 𝘯𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘳 𝘫𝘶𝘴𝘵 𝘢𝘣𝘰𝘶𝘵 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘥𝘢𝘯𝘤𝘪𝘯𝘨.
𝘜𝘯𝘥𝘦𝘳𝘯𝘦𝘢𝘵𝘩 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘴𝘩𝘰𝘦𝘴 𝘸𝘢𝘴 𝘢 𝘨𝘭𝘰𝘴𝘴𝘺 𝘩𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘴𝘩𝘰𝘵. 𝘔𝘺 𝘩𝘢𝘪𝘳 𝘸𝘢𝘴 𝘥𝘺𝘦𝘥 𝘢 𝘳𝘪𝘥𝘪𝘤𝘶𝘭𝘰𝘶𝘴 𝘴𝘩𝘢𝘥𝘦 𝘰𝘧 𝘴𝘪𝘭𝘷𝘦𝘳, 𝘮𝘺 𝘦𝘺𝘦𝘴 𝘴𝘮𝘰𝘬𝘺, 𝘮𝘺 𝘭𝘪𝘱𝘴 𝘱𝘢𝘳𝘵𝘦𝘥 𝘪𝘯 𝘢 𝘱𝘳𝘢𝘤𝘵𝘪𝘤𝘦𝘥, 𝘪𝘯𝘷𝘪𝘵𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘱𝘰𝘶𝘵. 𝘐 𝘴𝘵𝘢𝘳𝘦𝘥 𝘢𝘵 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘣𝘰𝘺 𝘪𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘱𝘩𝘰𝘵𝘰. 𝘏𝘦 𝘭𝘰𝘰𝘬𝘦𝘥 𝘴𝘰 𝘦𝘢𝘨𝘦𝘳. 𝘚𝘰 𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘺 𝘵𝘰 𝘣𝘦 𝘤𝘰𝘯𝘴𝘶𝘮𝘦𝘥.
𝘐 𝘩𝘢𝘵𝘦𝘥 𝘩𝘪𝘮. 𝘛𝘩𝘦 𝘮𝘦𝘮𝘰𝘳𝘺 𝘴𝘶𝘳𝘧𝘢𝘤𝘦𝘥, 𝘶𝘯𝘣𝘪𝘥𝘥𝘦𝘯, 𝘴𝘩𝘢𝘳𝘱 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘱𝘢𝘪𝘯𝘧𝘶𝘭. 𝘐𝘵 𝘸𝘢𝘴 𝘢𝘧𝘵𝘦𝘳 𝘢 𝘴𝘩𝘰𝘸𝘤𝘢𝘴𝘦, 𝘰𝘯𝘦 𝘰𝘧 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘥𝘰𝘻𝘦𝘯𝘴 𝘸𝘦 𝘱𝘦𝘳𝘧𝘰𝘳𝘮𝘦𝘥 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘪𝘯𝘥𝘶𝘴𝘵𝘳𝘺 𝘦𝘹𝘦𝘤𝘶𝘵𝘪𝘷𝘦𝘴. 𝘐'𝘥 𝘯𝘢𝘪𝘭𝘦𝘥 𝘮𝘺 𝘴𝘰𝘭𝘰. 𝘛𝘩𝘦 𝘦𝘯𝘦𝘳𝘨𝘺 𝘸𝘢𝘴 𝘦𝘭𝘦𝘤𝘵𝘳𝘪𝘤.
𝘈𝘧𝘵𝘦𝘳𝘸𝘢𝘳𝘥𝘴, 𝘢 𝘨𝘳𝘰𝘶𝘱 𝘰𝘧 𝘰𝘭𝘥𝘦𝘳 𝘸𝘰𝘮𝘦𝘯, 𝘸𝘪𝘷𝘦𝘴 𝘰𝘧 𝘪𝘯𝘷𝘦𝘴𝘵𝘰𝘳𝘴 𝘰𝘳 𝘴𝘰𝘮𝘦𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨, 𝘤𝘰𝘳𝘯𝘦𝘳𝘦𝘥 𝘮𝘦 𝘣𝘺 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘳𝘦𝘧𝘳𝘦𝘴𝘩𝘮𝘦𝘯𝘵 𝘵𝘢𝘣𝘭𝘦. 𝘖𝘯𝘦 𝘰𝘧 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘮, 𝘩𝘦𝘳 𝘱𝘦𝘳𝘧𝘶𝘮𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘤𝘬 𝘢𝘴 𝘱𝘰𝘪𝘴𝘰𝘯, 𝘳𝘢𝘯 𝘢 𝘧𝘪𝘯𝘨𝘦𝘳𝘯𝘢𝘪𝘭 𝘥𝘰𝘸𝘯 𝘮𝘺 𝘤𝘩𝘦𝘴𝘵."𝘓𝘰𝘰𝘬 𝘢𝘵 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘰𝘯𝘦," 𝘴𝘩𝘦'𝘥 𝘱𝘶𝘳𝘳𝘦𝘥 𝘵𝘰 𝘩𝘦𝘳 𝘧𝘳𝘪𝘦𝘯𝘥𝘴, 𝘩𝘦𝘳 𝘦𝘺𝘦𝘴 𝘤𝘳𝘢𝘸𝘭𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘰𝘷𝘦𝘳 𝘮𝘦 𝘭𝘪𝘬𝘦 𝘐 𝘸𝘢𝘴 𝘢 𝘱𝘪𝘦𝘤𝘦 𝘰𝘧 𝘮𝘦𝘢𝘵 𝘰𝘯 𝘢 𝘱𝘭𝘢𝘵𝘵𝘦𝘳. "𝘏𝘦'𝘴 𝘨𝘰𝘵 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘭𝘰𝘰𝘬. 𝘛𝘩𝘦 𝘰𝘯𝘦 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘫𝘶𝘴𝘵 𝘸𝘢𝘯𝘵 𝘵𝘰... 𝘣𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘬.
"𝘛𝘩𝘦𝘺'𝘥 𝘢𝘭𝘭 𝘭𝘢𝘶𝘨𝘩𝘦𝘥, 𝘢 𝘤𝘩𝘰𝘳𝘶𝘴 𝘰𝘧 𝘦𝘹𝘱𝘦𝘯𝘴𝘪𝘷𝘦 𝘢𝘱𝘱𝘳𝘰𝘷𝘢𝘭. 𝘈𝘯𝘰𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳 𝘰𝘯𝘦 𝘱𝘪𝘯𝘤𝘩𝘦𝘥 𝘮𝘺 𝘤𝘩𝘦𝘦𝘬, 𝘩𝘢𝘳𝘥. "𝘚𝘰 𝘱𝘳𝘦𝘵𝘵𝘺. 𝘈𝘳𝘦 𝘢𝘭𝘭 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘵𝘳𝘢𝘪𝘯𝘦𝘦𝘴 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘴... 𝘱𝘭𝘪𝘢𝘣𝘭𝘦?" 𝘐'𝘥 𝘴𝘵𝘰𝘰𝘥 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘦, 𝘴𝘮𝘪𝘭𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘮𝘺 "𝘧𝘢𝘯 𝘴𝘦𝘳𝘷𝘪𝘤𝘦" 𝘴𝘮𝘪𝘭𝘦, 𝘯𝘰𝘥𝘥𝘪𝘯𝘨, 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘯𝘬𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘮 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘪𝘳 "𝘤𝘰𝘮𝘱𝘭𝘪𝘮𝘦𝘯𝘵𝘴" 𝘸𝘩𝘪𝘭𝘦 𝘮𝘺 𝘣𝘭𝘰𝘰𝘥 𝘳𝘢𝘯 𝘤𝘰𝘭𝘥.
𝘐 𝘸𝘢𝘴𝘯'𝘵 𝘢 𝘱𝘦𝘳𝘴𝘰𝘯. 𝘐 𝘸𝘢𝘴𝘯'𝘵 𝘢 𝘥𝘢𝘯𝘤𝘦𝘳 𝘰𝘳 𝘢 𝘴𝘪𝘯𝘨𝘦𝘳. 𝘐 𝘸𝘢𝘴 𝘢𝘯 𝘪𝘵𝘦𝘮. 𝘈 𝘣𝘦𝘢𝘶𝘵𝘪𝘧𝘶𝘭𝘭𝘺 𝘱𝘢𝘤𝘬𝘢𝘨𝘦𝘥, 𝘮𝘦𝘵𝘪𝘤𝘶𝘭𝘰𝘶𝘴𝘭𝘺 𝘵𝘳𝘢𝘪𝘯𝘦𝘥 𝘱𝘳𝘰𝘥𝘶𝘤𝘵 𝘥𝘦𝘴𝘪𝘨𝘯𝘦𝘥 𝘵𝘰 𝘣𝘦 𝘢𝘥𝘮𝘪𝘳𝘦𝘥, 𝘥𝘦𝘴𝘪𝘳𝘦𝘥, 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘶𝘭𝘵𝘪𝘮𝘢𝘵𝘦𝘭𝘺, 𝘰𝘸𝘯𝘦𝘥. 𝘛𝘩𝘦𝘺 𝘸𝘦𝘳𝘦𝘯'𝘵 𝘭𝘰𝘰𝘬𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘢𝘵 𝘮𝘺 𝘵𝘢𝘭𝘦𝘯𝘵.
𝘛𝘩𝘦𝘺 𝘸𝘦𝘳𝘦 𝘭𝘰𝘰𝘬𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘢𝘵 𝘮𝘺 𝘣𝘰𝘥𝘺, 𝘮𝘺 𝘧𝘢𝘤𝘦, 𝘤𝘢𝘭𝘤𝘶𝘭𝘢𝘵𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘮𝘺 𝘮𝘢𝘳𝘬𝘦𝘵𝘢𝘣𝘪𝘭𝘪𝘵𝘺, 𝘮𝘺 𝘴𝘩𝘦𝘭𝘧 𝘭𝘪𝘧𝘦. 𝘛𝘩𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘰𝘶𝘨𝘩𝘵 𝘰𝘧 𝘱𝘦𝘳𝘧𝘰𝘳𝘮𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘵𝘩𝘰𝘶𝘴𝘢𝘯𝘥𝘴 𝘰𝘧 𝘴𝘤𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘮𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘧𝘢𝘯𝘴 𝘸𝘩𝘰 𝘸𝘰𝘶𝘭𝘥 𝘵𝘦𝘢𝘳 𝘮𝘦 𝘢𝘱𝘢𝘳𝘵 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘪𝘳 𝘭𝘰𝘷𝘦, 𝘰𝘧 𝘣𝘦𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘰𝘣𝘫𝘦𝘤𝘵 𝘰𝘯 𝘢 𝘨𝘳𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘴𝘤𝘢𝘭𝘦, 𝘮𝘢𝘥𝘦 𝘮𝘦 𝘸𝘢𝘯𝘵 𝘵𝘰 𝘷𝘰𝘮𝘪𝘵. 𝘛𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘯𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵, 𝘐 𝘸𝘦𝘯𝘵 𝘣𝘢𝘤𝘬 𝘵𝘰 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘥𝘰𝘳𝘮 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘴𝘤𝘳𝘶𝘣𝘣𝘦𝘥 𝘮𝘺 𝘧𝘢𝘤𝘦 𝘪𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘴𝘪𝘯𝘬 𝘶𝘯𝘵𝘪𝘭 𝘮𝘺 𝘴𝘬𝘪𝘯 𝘸𝘢𝘴 𝘳𝘢𝘸. 𝘐 𝘭𝘰𝘰𝘬𝘦𝘥 𝘢𝘵 𝘮𝘺 𝘳𝘦𝘧𝘭𝘦𝘤𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘴𝘢𝘸 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘺 𝘸𝘢𝘯𝘵𝘦𝘥 𝘵𝘰 𝘴𝘦𝘦. 𝘈𝘯𝘥 𝘐 𝘬𝘯𝘦𝘸, 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘢 𝘤𝘦𝘳𝘵𝘢𝘪𝘯𝘵𝘺 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘤𝘩𝘪𝘭𝘭𝘦𝘥 𝘮𝘦 𝘵𝘰 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘣𝘰𝘯𝘦, 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘐 𝘸𝘰𝘶𝘭𝘥 𝘳𝘢𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳 𝘣𝘦 𝘢𝘯𝘺𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵.
𝘐 𝘴𝘭𝘢𝘮𝘮𝘦𝘥 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘴𝘩𝘰𝘦𝘣𝘰𝘹 𝘴𝘩𝘶𝘵, 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘴𝘰𝘶𝘯𝘥 𝘭𝘰𝘶𝘥 𝘪𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘲𝘶𝘪𝘦𝘵 𝘢𝘱𝘢𝘳𝘵𝘮𝘦𝘯𝘵. 𝘔𝘺 𝘤𝘩𝘦𝘴𝘵 𝘸𝘢𝘴 𝘵𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵. 𝘛𝘩𝘢𝘵'𝘴 𝘸𝘩𝘺 𝘐 𝘥𝘪𝘥 𝘪𝘵. 𝘈𝘭𝘭 𝘰𝘧 𝘪𝘵. 𝘛𝘩𝘦 𝘯𝘰𝘪𝘴𝘦, 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘭𝘢𝘵𝘦-𝘯𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵 𝘷𝘪𝘴𝘪𝘵𝘰𝘳𝘴, 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘤𝘢𝘴𝘶𝘢𝘭 𝘤𝘳𝘶𝘦𝘭𝘵𝘺.
𝘐𝘵 𝘸𝘢𝘴 𝘢 𝘵𝘸𝘪𝘴𝘵𝘦𝘥 𝘬𝘪𝘯𝘥 𝘰𝘧 𝘳𝘦𝘤𝘭𝘢𝘮𝘢𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯. 𝘐𝘧 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘺 𝘸𝘦𝘳𝘦 𝘨𝘰𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘵𝘰 𝘭𝘰𝘰𝘬 𝘢𝘵 𝘮𝘦 𝘭𝘪𝘬𝘦 𝘢𝘯 𝘪𝘵𝘦𝘮, 𝘐'𝘥 𝘣𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘰𝘯𝘦 𝘪𝘯 𝘤𝘰𝘯𝘵𝘳𝘰𝘭. 𝘐'𝘥 𝘣𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘰𝘯𝘦 𝘮𝘢𝘬𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘯𝘰𝘪𝘴𝘦, 𝘴𝘦𝘵𝘵𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘵𝘦𝘳𝘮𝘴, 𝘤𝘩𝘰𝘰𝘴𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘢𝘶𝘥𝘪𝘦𝘯𝘤𝘦. 𝘐 𝘸𝘢𝘴 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘰𝘯𝘦 𝘱𝘦𝘳𝘧𝘰𝘳𝘮𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘯𝘰𝘸, 𝘣𝘶𝘵 𝘪𝘵 𝘸𝘢𝘴 𝘢 𝘴𝘩𝘰𝘸 𝘰𝘧 𝘮𝘺 𝘰𝘸𝘯 𝘮𝘢𝘬𝘪𝘯𝘨. 𝘛𝘩𝘦 𝘴𝘵𝘢𝘨𝘦 𝘸𝘢𝘴 𝘴𝘮𝘢𝘭𝘭𝘦𝘳, 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘢𝘱𝘱𝘭𝘢𝘶𝘴𝘦 𝘸𝘢𝘴 𝘧𝘭𝘦𝘦𝘵𝘪𝘯𝘨, 𝘣𝘶𝘵 𝘪𝘵 𝘸𝘢𝘴 𝘮𝘪𝘯𝘦.
𝘈 𝘣𝘪𝘵𝘵𝘦𝘳 𝘭𝘢𝘶𝘨𝘩 𝘦𝘴𝘤𝘢𝘱𝘦𝘥 𝘮𝘺 𝘭𝘪𝘱𝘴. 𝘚𝘩𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘰𝘶𝘨𝘩𝘵 𝘐 𝘸𝘢𝘴 𝘥𝘪𝘴𝘨𝘶𝘴𝘵𝘪𝘯𝘨. 𝘚𝘩𝘦 𝘩𝘢𝘥 𝘯𝘰 𝘪𝘥𝘦𝘢. 𝘐 𝘴𝘵𝘰𝘰𝘥 𝘶𝘱 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘸𝘢𝘭𝘬𝘦𝘥 𝘵𝘰 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘤𝘦𝘯𝘵𝘦𝘳 𝘰𝘧 𝘮𝘺 𝘭𝘪𝘷𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘳𝘰𝘰𝘮. 𝘛𝘩𝘦 𝘮𝘰𝘰𝘯𝘭𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵 𝘪𝘭𝘭𝘶𝘮𝘪𝘯𝘢𝘵𝘦𝘥 𝘢 𝘴𝘮𝘢𝘭𝘭, 𝘤𝘭𝘦𝘢𝘳 𝘴𝘱𝘢𝘤𝘦 𝘰𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘩𝘢𝘳𝘥𝘸𝘰𝘰𝘥 𝘧𝘭𝘰𝘰𝘳.
𝘐 𝘤𝘭𝘰𝘴𝘦𝘥 𝘮𝘺 𝘦𝘺𝘦𝘴, 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘮𝘶𝘴𝘪𝘤 𝘴𝘵𝘢𝘳𝘵𝘦𝘥 𝘪𝘯 𝘮𝘺 𝘩𝘦𝘢𝘥—𝘯𝘰𝘵 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘳𝘩𝘺𝘵𝘩𝘮𝘪𝘤 𝘵𝘩𝘶𝘮𝘱𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘧𝘳𝘰𝘮 𝘵𝘰𝘯𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵, 𝘣𝘶𝘵 𝘢 𝘤𝘰𝘮𝘱𝘭𝘦𝘹, 𝘥𝘳𝘪𝘷𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘒-𝘱𝘰𝘱 𝘣𝘦𝘢𝘵 𝘐 𝘩𝘢𝘥𝘯'𝘵 𝘢𝘭𝘭𝘰𝘸𝘦𝘥 𝘮𝘺𝘴𝘦𝘭𝘧 𝘵𝘰 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘬 𝘢𝘣𝘰𝘶𝘵 𝘪𝘯 𝘺𝘦𝘢𝘳𝘴. 𝘔𝘺 𝘣𝘰𝘥𝘺 𝘳𝘦𝘮𝘦𝘮𝘣𝘦𝘳𝘦𝘥. 𝘔𝘺 𝘧𝘦𝘦𝘵 𝘧𝘰𝘶𝘯𝘥 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘪𝘳 𝘱𝘰𝘴𝘪𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯, 𝘮𝘺 𝘢𝘳𝘮𝘴 𝘭𝘪𝘧𝘵𝘦𝘥. 𝘐 𝘮𝘰𝘷𝘦𝘥 𝘵𝘩𝘳𝘰𝘶𝘨𝘩 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘧𝘪𝘳𝘴𝘵 𝘴𝘦𝘲𝘶𝘦𝘯𝘤𝘦, 𝘴𝘩𝘢𝘳𝘱 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘱𝘳𝘦𝘤𝘪𝘴𝘦. 𝘛𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘦 𝘸𝘢𝘴 𝘯𝘰 𝘫𝘰𝘺 𝘪𝘯 𝘪𝘵.
𝘛𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘦 𝘸𝘢𝘴 𝘯𝘰 𝘩𝘰𝘱𝘦. 𝘛𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘦 𝘸𝘢𝘴 𝘰𝘯𝘭𝘺 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘮𝘶𝘴𝘤𝘭𝘦 𝘮𝘦𝘮𝘰𝘳𝘺 𝘰𝘧 𝘢 𝘥𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘮 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘩𝘢𝘥 𝘤𝘶𝘳𝘥𝘭𝘦𝘥 𝘪𝘯𝘵𝘰 𝘢 𝘯𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵𝘮𝘢𝘳𝘦. 𝘐 𝘥𝘢𝘯𝘤𝘦𝘥 𝘪𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘥𝘢𝘳𝘬, 𝘯𝘰𝘵 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘢𝘯 𝘢𝘶𝘥𝘪𝘦𝘯𝘤𝘦, 𝘣𝘶𝘵 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘨𝘩𝘰𝘴𝘵 𝘰𝘧 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘣𝘰𝘺 𝘪𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘱𝘩𝘰𝘵𝘰𝘨𝘳𝘢𝘱𝘩, 𝘱𝘳𝘰𝘷𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘵𝘰 𝘩𝘪𝘮 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘐 𝘩𝘢𝘥 𝘴𝘶𝘳𝘷𝘪𝘷𝘦𝘥. 𝘛𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘐 𝘩𝘢𝘥 𝘵𝘢𝘬𝘦𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘪𝘳 𝘴𝘵𝘢𝘨𝘦 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘣𝘶𝘳𝘯𝘦𝘥 𝘪𝘵 𝘵𝘰 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘨𝘳𝘰𝘶𝘯𝘥.
Cheering you on every step of the way! 💫
𝐶ℎ𝑎𝑝𝑡𝑒𝑟 2
𝘛𝘩𝘦 𝘴𝘰𝘶𝘯𝘥𝘴 𝘴𝘵𝘢𝘳𝘵𝘦𝘥 𝘢𝘨𝘢𝘪𝘯 — 𝘴𝘩𝘢𝘳𝘱, 𝘳𝘩𝘺𝘵𝘩𝘮𝘪𝘤, 𝘪𝘮𝘱𝘰𝘴𝘴𝘪𝘣𝘭𝘦 𝘵𝘰 𝘪𝘨𝘯𝘰𝘳𝘦. 𝘐 𝘨𝘳𝘰𝘢𝘯𝘦𝘥, 𝘱𝘳𝘦𝘴𝘴𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘢 𝘱𝘪𝘭𝘭𝘰𝘸 𝘰𝘷𝘦𝘳 𝘮𝘺 𝘩𝘦𝘢𝘥, 𝘣𝘶𝘵 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘸𝘢𝘭𝘭 𝘮𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵 𝘢𝘴 𝘸𝘦𝘭𝘭 𝘩𝘢𝘷𝘦 𝘣𝘦𝘦𝘯 𝘱𝘢𝘱𝘦𝘳. 𝘌𝘷𝘦𝘳𝘺 𝘮𝘶𝘧𝘧𝘭𝘦𝘥 𝘭𝘢𝘶𝘨𝘩, 𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘳𝘺 𝘴𝘩𝘪𝘧𝘵 𝘰𝘧 𝘸𝘦𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵 𝘤𝘢𝘳𝘳𝘪𝘦𝘥 𝘴𝘵𝘳𝘢𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵 𝘵𝘩𝘳𝘰𝘶𝘨𝘩 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘱𝘭𝘢𝘴𝘵𝘦𝘳. “𝘎𝘰𝘥, 𝘯𝘰𝘵 𝘢𝘨𝘢𝘪𝘯…” 𝘐 𝘮𝘶𝘵𝘵𝘦𝘳𝘦𝘥. 𝘌𝘹𝘤𝘦𝘱𝘵 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘵𝘪𝘮𝘦, 𝘪𝘵 𝘸𝘢𝘴𝘯’𝘵 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘤𝘰𝘶𝘱𝘭𝘦 𝘧𝘳𝘰𝘮 𝘯𝘦𝘹𝘵 𝘥𝘰𝘰𝘳. 𝘐𝘵 𝘸𝘢𝘴 𝘧𝘳𝘰𝘮 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘰𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳 𝘴𝘪𝘥𝘦 — 𝘍𝘦𝘭𝘪𝘹’𝘴 𝘴𝘪𝘥𝘦. 𝘛𝘩𝘦 𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘭𝘪𝘻𝘢𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯 𝘩𝘪𝘵 𝘴𝘭𝘰𝘸𝘦𝘳 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘯 𝘪𝘵 𝘴𝘩𝘰𝘶𝘭𝘥’𝘷𝘦.
𝘛𝘩𝘦 𝘤𝘢𝘥𝘦𝘯𝘤𝘦, 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘣𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘵𝘩𝘺 𝘵𝘰𝘯𝘦, 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘰𝘤𝘤𝘢𝘴𝘪𝘰𝘯𝘢𝘭 𝘵𝘩𝘶𝘥 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘮𝘢𝘥𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘭𝘢𝘮𝘱 𝘰𝘯 𝘮𝘺 𝘯𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵𝘴𝘵𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘵𝘳𝘦𝘮𝘣𝘭𝘦… 𝘢𝘭𝘭 𝘰𝘧 𝘪𝘵 𝘵𝘰𝘰 𝘧𝘢𝘮𝘪𝘭𝘪𝘢𝘳, 𝘵𝘰𝘰 𝘩𝘶𝘮𝘢𝘯. 𝘔𝘺 𝘤𝘩𝘦𝘴𝘵 𝘵𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵𝘦𝘯𝘦𝘥. 𝘖𝘧 𝘤𝘰𝘶𝘳𝘴𝘦 𝘪𝘵 𝘸𝘰𝘶𝘭𝘥 𝘣𝘦 𝘩𝘪𝘮. 𝘐 𝘤𝘰𝘶𝘭𝘥𝘯’𝘵 𝘩𝘦𝘭𝘱 𝘪𝘵 — 𝘤𝘶𝘳𝘪𝘰𝘴𝘪𝘵𝘺 𝘱𝘳𝘦𝘴𝘴𝘦𝘥 𝘢𝘨𝘢𝘪𝘯𝘴𝘵 𝘮𝘺 𝘣𝘦𝘵𝘵𝘦𝘳 𝘫𝘶𝘥𝘨𝘮𝘦𝘯𝘵. 𝘐 𝘵𝘶𝘳𝘯𝘦𝘥 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘛𝘝 𝘶𝘱 𝘫𝘶𝘴𝘵 𝘵𝘰 𝘩𝘢𝘷𝘦 𝘴𝘰𝘮𝘦𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘦𝘭𝘴𝘦 𝘧𝘪𝘭𝘭𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘴𝘱𝘢𝘤𝘦, 𝘣𝘶𝘵 𝘪𝘵 𝘰𝘯𝘭𝘺 𝘮𝘢𝘥𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘨𝘢𝘱𝘴 𝘮𝘰𝘳𝘦 𝘯𝘰𝘵𝘪𝘤𝘦𝘢𝘣𝘭𝘦. 𝘌𝘮𝘣𝘢𝘳𝘳𝘢𝘴𝘴𝘮𝘦𝘯𝘵 𝘱𝘳𝘪𝘤𝘬𝘭𝘦𝘥 𝘢𝘤𝘳𝘰𝘴𝘴 𝘮𝘺 𝘯𝘦𝘤𝘬 𝘭𝘪𝘬𝘦 𝘴𝘵𝘢𝘵𝘪𝘤. 𝘐 𝘩𝘢𝘵𝘦𝘥 𝘩𝘰𝘸 𝘢𝘸𝘢𝘳𝘦 𝘐 𝘸𝘢𝘴 𝘰𝘧 𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘳𝘺𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨 — 𝘰𝘧 𝘩𝘪𝘮.
𝘛𝘩𝘦𝘯, 𝘫𝘶𝘴𝘵 𝘢𝘴 𝘴𝘶𝘥𝘥𝘦𝘯𝘭𝘺 𝘢𝘴 𝘪𝘵 𝘴𝘵𝘢𝘳𝘵𝘦𝘥, 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘯𝘰𝘪𝘴𝘦 𝘴𝘵𝘰𝘱𝘱𝘦𝘥. 𝘚𝘪𝘭𝘦𝘯𝘤𝘦 𝘴𝘦𝘦𝘱𝘦𝘥 𝘵𝘩𝘳𝘰𝘶𝘨𝘩 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘥𝘳𝘺𝘸𝘢𝘭𝘭, 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘤𝘬 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘢𝘤𝘤𝘶𝘴𝘪𝘯𝘨. 𝘈 𝘮𝘪𝘯𝘶𝘵𝘦 𝘱𝘢𝘴𝘴𝘦𝘥. 𝘛𝘩𝘦𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘳𝘦𝘦. 𝘐 𝘸𝘢𝘴 𝘩𝘢𝘭𝘧 𝘤𝘰𝘯𝘷𝘪𝘯𝘤𝘦𝘥 𝘐’𝘥 𝘪𝘮𝘢𝘨𝘪𝘯𝘦𝘥 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘸𝘩𝘰𝘭𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘶𝘯𝘵𝘪𝘭 𝘢 𝘴𝘰𝘧𝘵 𝘬𝘯𝘰𝘤𝘬 𝘣𝘳𝘰𝘬𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘳𝘰𝘶𝘨𝘩 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘲𝘶𝘪𝘦𝘵. “𝘠𝘰𝘶 𝘢𝘸𝘢𝘬𝘦?” 𝘍𝘦𝘭𝘪𝘹’𝘴 𝘷𝘰𝘪𝘤𝘦 𝘸𝘢𝘴 𝘭𝘰𝘸, 𝘤𝘢𝘭𝘮 — 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘬𝘪𝘯𝘥 𝘰𝘧 𝘷𝘰𝘪𝘤𝘦 𝘱𝘦𝘰𝘱𝘭𝘦 𝘶𝘴𝘦 𝘸𝘩𝘦𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘺 𝘢𝘭𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘺 𝘬𝘯𝘰𝘸 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘢𝘯𝘴𝘸𝘦𝘳.
𝘐 𝘰𝘱𝘦𝘯𝘦𝘥 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘥𝘰𝘰𝘳 𝘢 𝘤𝘳𝘢𝘤𝘬. 𝘏𝘦 𝘸𝘢𝘴 𝘭𝘦𝘢𝘯𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘢𝘨𝘢𝘪𝘯𝘴𝘵 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘧𝘳𝘢𝘮𝘦, 𝘩𝘢𝘪𝘳 𝘵𝘰𝘶𝘴𝘭𝘦𝘥, 𝘩𝘰𝘰𝘥𝘪𝘦 𝘩𝘢𝘭𝘧 𝘶𝘯𝘻𝘪𝘱𝘱𝘦𝘥, 𝘦𝘺𝘦𝘴 𝘢 𝘭𝘪𝘵𝘵𝘭𝘦 𝘵𝘰𝘰 𝘣𝘳𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵. 𝘛𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘦 𝘸𝘢𝘴 𝘢 𝘧𝘢𝘪𝘯𝘵 𝘴𝘮𝘪𝘳𝘬 𝘱𝘭𝘢𝘺𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘢𝘵 𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘮𝘰𝘶𝘵𝘩 — 𝘯𝘰𝘵 𝘤𝘳𝘶𝘦𝘭, 𝘣𝘶𝘵 𝘫𝘶𝘴𝘵 𝘦𝘯𝘰𝘶𝘨𝘩 𝘵𝘰 𝘮𝘢𝘬𝘦 𝘮𝘺 𝘴𝘵𝘰𝘮𝘢𝘤𝘩 𝘵𝘸𝘪𝘴𝘵. “𝘚𝘰𝘳𝘳𝘺 𝘢𝘣𝘰𝘶𝘵 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘯𝘰𝘪𝘴𝘦,” 𝘩𝘦 𝘴𝘢𝘪𝘥, 𝘵𝘩𝘰𝘶𝘨𝘩 𝘩𝘦 𝘥𝘪𝘥𝘯’𝘵 𝘴𝘰𝘶𝘯𝘥 𝘴𝘰𝘳𝘳𝘺 𝘢𝘵 𝘢𝘭𝘭. “𝘞𝘢𝘭𝘭𝘴 𝘢𝘳𝘦… 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯.” 𝘔𝘺 𝘷𝘰𝘪𝘤𝘦 𝘤𝘢𝘶𝘨𝘩𝘵 𝘴𝘰𝘮𝘦𝘸𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘦 𝘣𝘦𝘵𝘸𝘦𝘦𝘯 𝘢𝘯𝘯𝘰𝘺𝘢𝘯𝘤𝘦 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘥𝘪𝘴𝘣𝘦𝘭𝘪𝘦𝘧.
“𝘛𝘩𝘢𝘵’𝘴 𝘰𝘯𝘦 𝘸𝘢𝘺 𝘵𝘰 𝘱𝘶𝘵 𝘪𝘵.” 𝘏𝘦 𝘵𝘪𝘭𝘵𝘦𝘥 𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘩𝘦𝘢𝘥, 𝘴𝘵𝘶𝘥𝘺𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘮𝘦. “𝘠𝘰𝘶 𝘥𝘪𝘥𝘯’𝘵 𝘦𝘯𝘫𝘰𝘺 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘴𝘩𝘰𝘸?” 𝘐 𝘣𝘭𝘪𝘯𝘬𝘦𝘥. “𝘌𝘹𝘤𝘶𝘴𝘦 𝘮𝘦?” “𝘠𝘰𝘶 𝘴𝘦𝘦𝘮𝘦𝘥 𝘵𝘦𝘯𝘴𝘦,” 𝘩𝘦 𝘴𝘢𝘪𝘥, 𝘨𝘳𝘪𝘯 𝘸𝘪𝘥𝘦𝘯𝘪𝘯𝘨. “𝘛𝘩𝘰𝘶𝘨𝘩𝘵 𝘮𝘢𝘺𝘣𝘦 𝘐 𝘴𝘩𝘰𝘶𝘭𝘥 𝘪𝘯𝘷𝘪𝘵𝘦 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘯𝘦𝘹𝘵 𝘵𝘪𝘮𝘦. 𝘚𝘢𝘷𝘦 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘧𝘳𝘰𝘮 𝘢𝘭𝘭 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘴𝘦𝘤𝘰𝘯𝘥𝘩𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘧𝘳𝘶𝘴𝘵𝘳𝘢𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯.” 𝘐 𝘴𝘵𝘢𝘳𝘦𝘥 𝘢𝘵 𝘩𝘪𝘮, 𝘩𝘦𝘢𝘵 𝘤𝘳𝘦𝘦𝘱𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘪𝘯𝘵𝘰 𝘮𝘺 𝘧𝘢𝘤𝘦. “𝘠𝘰𝘶’𝘳𝘦 𝘥𝘪𝘴𝘨𝘶𝘴𝘵𝘪𝘯𝘨.”
“𝘔𝘢𝘺𝘣𝘦,” 𝘩𝘦 𝘴𝘢𝘪𝘥,𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘴𝘰𝘧𝘵 𝘦𝘥𝘨𝘦 𝘴𝘭𝘪𝘱𝘱𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘶𝘯𝘥𝘦𝘳 𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘸𝘰𝘳𝘥𝘴, “𝘣𝘶𝘵 𝘐 𝘤𝘰𝘶𝘭𝘥𝘯’𝘵 𝘩𝘦𝘭𝘱 𝘯𝘰𝘵𝘪𝘤𝘪𝘯𝘨… 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘥𝘪𝘥𝘯’𝘵 𝘴𝘢𝘺 𝘯𝘰.” 𝘈𝘯𝘥 𝘣𝘦𝘧𝘰𝘳𝘦 𝘐 𝘤𝘰𝘶𝘭𝘥 𝘥𝘦𝘤𝘪𝘥𝘦 𝘩𝘰𝘸 𝘵𝘰 𝘳𝘦𝘴𝘱𝘰𝘯𝘥, 𝘩𝘦 𝘴𝘵𝘦𝘱𝘱𝘦𝘥 𝘣𝘢𝘤𝘬 𝘪𝘯𝘵𝘰 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘥𝘪𝘮 𝘩𝘢𝘭𝘭𝘸𝘢𝘺, 𝘩𝘢𝘯𝘥𝘴 𝘪𝘯 𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘱𝘰𝘤𝘬𝘦𝘵𝘴, 𝘸𝘩𝘪𝘴𝘵𝘭𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘢𝘴 𝘪𝘧 𝘩𝘦’𝘥 𝘯𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘳 𝘴𝘢𝘪𝘥 𝘢𝘯𝘺𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘢𝘵 𝘢𝘭𝘭. 𝘛𝘩𝘦 𝘥𝘰𝘰𝘳 𝘤𝘭𝘪𝘤𝘬𝘦𝘥 𝘴𝘩𝘶𝘵 𝘣𝘦𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘥 𝘩𝘪𝘮, 𝘭𝘦𝘢𝘷𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘴𝘪𝘭𝘦𝘯𝘤𝘦 𝘵𝘰 𝘣𝘶𝘻𝘻 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘳𝘺𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘩𝘦 𝘥𝘪𝘥𝘯’𝘵 𝘥𝘢𝘳𝘦 𝘢𝘥𝘮𝘪𝘵 — 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘳𝘺𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘐 𝘤𝘰𝘶𝘭𝘥𝘯’𝘵 𝘴𝘵𝘰𝘱 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘬𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘢𝘣𝘰𝘶𝘵.
“思い出はあなたの身体を内側から温めてくれます。でもそれと同時にあなたの身体を内側から激しく切り裂いていきます。 Memories are what warm you up from the inside. But they’re also what tear you apart.”
— 村上春樹 Haruki Murakami (海辺のカフカ Kafka on the Shore)
ᴘᴏʀɴsᴛᴀʀ
𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝟏
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𝐶ℎ𝑎𝑝𝑡𝑒𝑟 3
𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝟏
“𝘎𝘰𝘥, 𝘯𝘰𝘵 𝘢𝘨𝘢𝘪𝘯…” 𝘐 𝘮𝘶𝘵𝘵𝘦𝘳𝘦𝘥, 𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘤𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘳𝘦𝘮𝘰𝘵𝘦 𝘵𝘰 𝘥𝘳𝘰𝘸𝘯 𝘰𝘶𝘵 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘮𝘰𝘢𝘯𝘴 𝘦𝘤𝘩𝘰𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘵𝘩𝘳𝘰𝘶𝘨𝘩 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘩𝘢𝘭𝘭. 𝘛𝘩𝘦 𝘸𝘢𝘭𝘭𝘴 𝘴𝘦𝘦𝘮𝘦𝘥 𝘵𝘰 𝘣𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘳𝘺 𝘨𝘢𝘴𝘱 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘭𝘢𝘶𝘨𝘩, 𝘢𝘮𝘱𝘭𝘪𝘧𝘺𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘮𝘺 𝘦𝘮𝘣𝘢𝘳𝘳𝘢𝘴𝘴𝘮𝘦𝘯𝘵. 𝘋𝘪𝘥 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘺 𝘯𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘳 𝘨𝘦𝘵 𝘵𝘪𝘳𝘦𝘥—𝘰𝘳 𝘥𝘪𝘥 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘺 𝘫𝘶𝘴𝘵 𝘯𝘰𝘵 𝘤𝘢𝘳𝘦 𝘩𝘰𝘸 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘱𝘭𝘢𝘴𝘵𝘦𝘳 𝘸𝘢𝘴 𝘪𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘣𝘶𝘪𝘭𝘥𝘪𝘯𝘨?
𝘌𝘢𝘤𝘩 𝘴𝘰𝘶𝘯𝘥 𝘤𝘳𝘦𝘱𝘵 𝘪𝘯𝘵𝘰 𝘮𝘺 𝘴𝘱𝘢𝘤𝘦, 𝘪𝘯𝘵𝘪𝘮𝘢𝘵𝘦 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘶𝘯𝘸𝘦𝘭𝘤𝘰𝘮𝘦, 𝘢𝘴 𝘪𝘧 𝘱𝘳𝘪𝘷𝘢𝘤𝘺 𝘸𝘦𝘳𝘦 𝘢 𝘫𝘰𝘬𝘦 𝘰𝘯𝘭𝘺 𝘐 𝘸𝘢𝘴𝘯’𝘵 𝘪𝘯 𝘰𝘯. 𝘐 𝘤𝘳𝘢𝘯𝘬𝘦𝘥 𝘶𝘱 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘷𝘰𝘭𝘶𝘮𝘦, 𝘩𝘰𝘱𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘵𝘪𝘯𝘯𝘺 𝘷𝘰𝘪𝘤𝘦 𝘰𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘵𝘦𝘭𝘦𝘷𝘪𝘴𝘪𝘰𝘯 𝘮𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵 𝘥𝘳𝘰𝘸𝘯 𝘰𝘶𝘵 𝘯𝘦𝘹𝘵 𝘥𝘰𝘰𝘳’𝘴 𝘱𝘢𝘴𝘴𝘪𝘰𝘯, 𝘣𝘶𝘵 𝘪𝘵 𝘸𝘢𝘴 𝘢 𝘭𝘰𝘴𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘣𝘢𝘵𝘵𝘭𝘦. 𝘐𝘧 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯 𝘸𝘢𝘭𝘭𝘴 𝘵𝘢𝘶𝘨𝘩𝘵 𝘮𝘦 𝘢𝘯𝘺𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨, 𝘪𝘵 𝘸𝘢𝘴 𝘦𝘹𝘢𝘤𝘵𝘭𝘺 𝘩𝘰𝘸 𝘭𝘪𝘵𝘵𝘭𝘦 𝘴𝘦𝘱𝘢𝘳𝘢𝘵𝘦𝘥 𝘰𝘯𝘦 𝘭𝘪𝘧𝘦 𝘧𝘳𝘰𝘮 𝘢𝘯𝘰𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳 𝘪𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘱𝘭𝘢𝘤𝘦.
𝘛𝘩𝘦 𝘳𝘦𝘮𝘰𝘵𝘦’𝘴 𝘷𝘰𝘭𝘶𝘮𝘦 𝘣𝘢𝘳𝘦𝘭𝘺 𝘮𝘢𝘥𝘦 𝘢 𝘥𝘦𝘯𝘵. 𝘛𝘩𝘦 𝘷𝘰𝘪𝘤𝘦𝘴—𝘳𝘢𝘸 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘭𝘰𝘶𝘥—𝘬𝘦𝘱𝘵 𝘱𝘳𝘦𝘴𝘴𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘪𝘯. 𝘐 𝘨𝘭𝘢𝘯𝘤𝘦𝘥 𝘢𝘵 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘱𝘦𝘦𝘭𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘸𝘢𝘭𝘭𝘱𝘢𝘱𝘦𝘳, 𝘸𝘪𝘴𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘐 𝘤𝘰𝘶𝘭𝘥 𝘱𝘦𝘦𝘭 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘯𝘰𝘪𝘴𝘦 𝘢𝘸𝘢𝘺 𝘫𝘶𝘴𝘵 𝘢𝘴 𝘦𝘢𝘴𝘪𝘭𝘺. 𝘐𝘵 𝘸𝘢𝘴𝘯’𝘵 𝘫𝘶𝘴𝘵 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘴𝘰𝘶𝘯𝘥; 𝘪𝘵 𝘸𝘢𝘴 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘪𝘯𝘷𝘢𝘴𝘪𝘰𝘯 𝘰𝘧 𝘮𝘺 𝘴𝘱𝘢𝘤𝘦, 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘸𝘢𝘺 𝘪𝘵 𝘮𝘢𝘥𝘦 𝘮𝘦 𝘧𝘦𝘦𝘭 𝘦𝘹𝘱𝘰𝘴𝘦𝘥 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘤𝘰𝘮𝘱𝘭𝘦𝘵𝘦𝘭𝘺 𝘪𝘯𝘤𝘢𝘱𝘢𝘣𝘭𝘦 𝘰𝘧 𝘦𝘴𝘤𝘢𝘱𝘦. 𝘐 𝘴𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘦𝘥, 𝘴𝘭𝘪𝘱𝘱𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘰𝘧𝘧 𝘮𝘺 𝘸𝘰𝘳𝘯 𝘴𝘭𝘪𝘱𝘱𝘦𝘳𝘴 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘸𝘢𝘯𝘥𝘦𝘳𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘰𝘷𝘦𝘳 𝘵𝘰 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘸𝘪𝘯𝘥𝘰𝘸, 𝘱𝘶𝘭𝘭𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘣𝘢𝘤𝘬 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘣𝘢𝘳𝘦 𝘤𝘶𝘳𝘵𝘢𝘪𝘯. 𝘖𝘶𝘵𝘴𝘪𝘥𝘦, 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘤𝘪𝘵𝘺 𝘴𝘱𝘳𝘢𝘸𝘭𝘦𝘥—𝘭𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵𝘴 𝘣𝘭𝘪𝘯𝘬𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘭𝘪𝘬𝘦 𝘧𝘪𝘳𝘦𝘧𝘭𝘪𝘦𝘴 𝘤𝘢𝘶𝘨𝘩𝘵 𝘪𝘯 𝘨𝘭𝘢𝘴𝘴 𝘫𝘢𝘳𝘴.
𝘚𝘰𝘮𝘦𝘸𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘦 𝘣𝘦𝘺𝘰𝘯𝘥 𝘢𝘭𝘭 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘨𝘭𝘪𝘵𝘵𝘦𝘳 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘯𝘰𝘪𝘴𝘦 𝘸𝘢𝘴 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘲𝘶𝘪𝘦𝘵 𝘐 𝘤𝘳𝘢𝘷𝘦𝘥. 𝘉𝘶𝘵 𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘦, 𝘪𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘤𝘳𝘢𝘮𝘱𝘦𝘥 𝘭𝘪𝘵𝘵𝘭𝘦 𝘢𝘱𝘢𝘳𝘵𝘮𝘦𝘯𝘵, 𝘴𝘪𝘭𝘦𝘯𝘤𝘦 𝘸𝘢𝘴 𝘢 𝘭𝘶𝘹𝘶𝘳𝘺 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘥𝘪𝘥𝘯’𝘵 𝘦𝘹𝘪𝘴𝘵. 𝘔𝘺 𝘱𝘩𝘰𝘯𝘦 𝘣𝘶𝘻𝘻𝘦𝘥 𝘰𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘤𝘰𝘧𝘧𝘦𝘦 𝘵𝘢𝘣𝘭𝘦, 𝘢 𝘳𝘦𝘮𝘪𝘯𝘥𝘦𝘳 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘭𝘪𝘧𝘦 𝘮𝘰𝘷𝘦𝘥 𝘰𝘯, 𝘳𝘦𝘨𝘢𝘳𝘥𝘭𝘦𝘴𝘴 𝘰𝘧 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘤𝘩𝘢𝘰𝘴 𝘯𝘦𝘹𝘵 𝘥𝘰𝘰𝘳.
𝘐 𝘱𝘪𝘤𝘬𝘦𝘥 𝘪𝘵 𝘶𝘱, 𝘴𝘤𝘳𝘰𝘭𝘭𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘵𝘩𝘳𝘰𝘶𝘨𝘩 𝘮𝘦𝘴𝘴𝘢𝘨𝘦𝘴 𝘐 𝘸𝘢𝘴𝘯’𝘵 𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘭𝘭𝘺 𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘪𝘯𝘨. 𝘌𝘷𝘦𝘳𝘺𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘧𝘦𝘭𝘵 𝘮𝘶𝘵𝘦𝘥 𝘶𝘯𝘥𝘦𝘳 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘥𝘳𝘰𝘯𝘦 𝘰𝘧 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘪𝘳 𝘶𝘯𝘮𝘪𝘴𝘵𝘢𝘬𝘢𝘣𝘭𝘦 𝘴𝘰𝘶𝘯𝘥𝘴, 𝘭𝘪𝘬𝘦 𝘭𝘪𝘷𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘪𝘯 𝘢 𝘴𝘵𝘰𝘳𝘮 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘤𝘰𝘶𝘭𝘥𝘯’𝘵 𝘤𝘭𝘰𝘴𝘦 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘸𝘪𝘯𝘥𝘰𝘸𝘴 𝘵𝘰. 𝘐 𝘳𝘶𝘣𝘣𝘦𝘥 𝘮𝘺 𝘵𝘦𝘮𝘱𝘭𝘦𝘴 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘸𝘰𝘯𝘥𝘦𝘳𝘦𝘥—𝘩𝘰𝘸 𝘭𝘰𝘯𝘨 𝘣𝘦𝘧𝘰𝘳𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘯𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵 𝘸𝘰𝘶𝘭𝘥 𝘧𝘪𝘯𝘢𝘭𝘭𝘺 𝘦𝘯𝘥? 𝘉𝘦𝘧𝘰𝘳𝘦 𝘮𝘺 𝘵𝘩𝘰𝘶𝘨𝘩𝘵𝘴, 𝘵𝘢𝘯𝘨𝘭𝘦𝘥 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘳𝘦𝘴𝘵𝘭𝘦𝘴𝘴, 𝘤𝘰𝘶𝘭𝘥 𝘧𝘪𝘯𝘥 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘪𝘳 𝘰𝘸𝘯 𝘴𝘱𝘢𝘤𝘦 𝘵𝘰 𝘣𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘵𝘩𝘦?
𝑇𝑟𝑎𝑖𝑙𝑒𝑟𝑠 & 𝑽𝒊𝒅𝒆𝒐 𝑭𝒊𝒄𝒔 :
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BANG CHAN @ SBS NIGHTLINE (trans cr.)
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ᴀʟʟ ᴛʜᴀᴛ ɪꜱ ᴡʀɪᴛᴛᴇɴ ʜᴇʀᴇ ɪꜱ ᴀɴ ᴀᴄᴛ ᴏꜰ ꜰɪᴄᴛɪᴏɴ!
"𝘐 𝘋𝘰": 𝘐𝘯 𝘏𝘺𝘶𝘯𝘫𝘪𝘯'𝘴 𝘱𝘦𝘳𝘴𝘱𝘦𝘤𝘵𝘪𝘷𝘦, 𝘩𝘦 𝘨𝘳𝘢𝘱𝘱𝘭𝘦𝘴 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘥𝘪𝘧𝘧𝘪𝘤𝘶𝘭𝘵 𝘴𝘪𝘵𝘶𝘢𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯 𝘰𝘧 𝘯𝘰𝘵 𝘬𝘯𝘰𝘸𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘩𝘰𝘸 𝘵𝘰 𝘦𝘹𝘱𝘭𝘢𝘪𝘯 𝘵𝘰 𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘧𝘳𝘪𝘦𝘯𝘥 𝘊𝘩𝘢𝘯 𝘸𝘩𝘺 𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘣𝘦𝘴𝘵 𝘮𝘢𝘯 𝘪𝘴 𝘢𝘣𝘴𝘦𝘯𝘵 𝘧𝘳𝘰𝘮 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘸𝘦𝘥𝘥𝘪𝘯𝘨. 𝘈 𝘵𝘢𝘭𝘭 𝘮𝘢𝘯 𝘦𝘹𝘱𝘳𝘦𝘴𝘴𝘦𝘴 𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘧𝘳𝘶𝘴𝘵𝘳𝘢𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯, 𝘴𝘶𝘨𝘨𝘦𝘴𝘵𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘳𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘢𝘭𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘵𝘳𝘶𝘵𝘩—𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘣𝘦𝘴𝘵 𝘮𝘢𝘯 𝘪𝘴 𝘪𝘯 𝘭𝘰𝘷𝘦 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘊𝘩𝘢𝘯'𝘴 𝘧𝘪𝘢𝘯𝘤é𝘦—𝘪𝘴 𝘯𝘦𝘢𝘳𝘭𝘺 𝘪𝘮𝘱𝘰𝘴𝘴𝘪𝘣𝘭𝘦. 𝘓𝘦𝘦 𝘒𝘯𝘰𝘸 𝘳𝘦𝘮𝘪𝘯𝘥𝘴 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘮 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘺 𝘤𝘢𝘯 𝘯𝘰 𝘭𝘰𝘯𝘨𝘦𝘳 𝘪𝘯𝘵𝘦𝘳𝘧𝘦𝘳𝘦, 𝘩𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘭𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘵𝘦𝘯𝘴𝘪𝘰𝘯 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘦𝘮𝘰𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯𝘢𝘭 𝘵𝘶𝘳𝘮𝘰𝘪𝘭 𝘴𝘶𝘳𝘳𝘰𝘶𝘯𝘥𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘴𝘪𝘵𝘶𝘢𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯.
𝐻𝑖𝑑𝑑𝑒𝑛 𝐷𝑒𝑠𝑖𝑟𝑒𝑠: 𝐼𝑛 𝑎 𝑡𝑎𝑛𝑔𝑙𝑒𝑑 𝑤𝑒𝑏 𝑜𝑓 𝑑𝑒𝑠𝑖𝑟𝑒, 𝑗𝑒𝑎𝑙𝑜𝑢𝑠𝑦, 𝑎𝑛𝑑 𝑢𝑛𝑠𝑝𝑜𝑘𝑒𝑛 𝑒𝑚𝑜𝑡𝑖𝑜𝑛𝑠, 𝐻𝑦𝑢𝑛𝑗𝑖𝑛 𝑔𝑟𝑎𝑝𝑝𝑙𝑒𝑠 𝑤𝑖𝑡ℎ 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑝𝑎𝑖𝑛𝑓𝑢𝑙 𝑟𝑒𝑎𝑙𝑖𝑡𝑦 𝑜𝑓 𝑤𝑎𝑡𝑐ℎ𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑠𝑜𝑚𝑒𝑜𝑛𝑒 ℎ𝑒 𝑙𝑜𝑣𝑒𝑠 𝑓𝑖𝑛𝑑 ℎ𝑎𝑝𝑝𝑖𝑛𝑒𝑠𝑠 𝑤𝑖𝑡ℎ 𝑎𝑛𝑜𝑡ℎ𝑒𝑟. 𝑇ℎ𝑜𝑢𝑔ℎ ℎ𝑒 𝑎𝑡𝑡𝑒𝑚𝑝𝑡𝑠 𝑡𝑜 𝑐𝑜𝑛𝑣𝑖𝑛𝑐𝑒 ℎ𝑖𝑚𝑠𝑒𝑙𝑓 𝑡ℎ𝑎𝑡 ℎ𝑒’𝑠 𝑢𝑛𝑎𝑓𝑓𝑒𝑐𝑡𝑒𝑑 𝑏𝑦 𝑡ℎ𝑒𝑖𝑟 𝑐𝑙𝑜𝑠𝑒𝑛𝑒𝑠𝑠, 𝑒𝑎𝑐ℎ 𝑙𝑎𝑢𝑔ℎ 𝑎𝑛𝑑 𝑠ℎ𝑎𝑟𝑒𝑑 𝑚𝑜𝑚𝑒𝑛𝑡 𝑝𝑖𝑒𝑟𝑐𝑒𝑠 ℎ𝑖𝑠 ℎ𝑒𝑎𝑟𝑡 𝑙𝑖𝑘𝑒 𝑎 𝑑𝑎𝑔𝑔𝑒𝑟. 𝐴𝑠 ℎ𝑒 𝑠𝑡𝑟𝑢𝑔𝑔𝑙𝑒𝑠 𝑡𝑜 𝑚𝑎𝑠𝑘 ℎ𝑖𝑠 𝑡𝑟𝑢𝑒 𝑓𝑒𝑒𝑙𝑖𝑛𝑔𝑠, 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑠𝑖𝑚𝑚𝑒𝑟𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑗𝑒𝑎𝑙𝑜𝑢𝑠𝑦 𝑤𝑖𝑡ℎ𝑖𝑛 ℎ𝑖𝑚 𝑡ℎ𝑟𝑒𝑎𝑡𝑒𝑛𝑠 𝑡𝑜 𝑠𝑢𝑟𝑓𝑎𝑐𝑒. 𝑊𝑖𝑡ℎ 𝑒𝑣𝑒𝑟𝑦 𝑝𝑎𝑠𝑠𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑑𝑎𝑦, ℎ𝑖𝑠 𝑙𝑜𝑛𝑔𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑑𝑒𝑒𝑝𝑒𝑛𝑠 𝑎𝑛𝑑 ℎ𝑖𝑠 ℎ𝑒𝑎𝑟𝑡𝑎𝑐ℎ𝑒 𝑖𝑛𝑡𝑒𝑛𝑠𝑖𝑓𝑖𝑒𝑠, 𝑓𝑜𝑟𝑐𝑖𝑛𝑔 ℎ𝑖𝑚 𝑡𝑜 𝑛𝑎𝑣𝑖𝑔𝑎𝑡𝑒 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑐𝑜𝑚𝑝𝑙𝑒𝑥𝑖𝑡𝑖𝑒𝑠 𝑜𝑓 𝑎 𝑙𝑜𝑣𝑒 𝑡ℎ𝑎𝑡 𝑖𝑠 𝑏𝑜𝑡ℎ 𝑖𝑛𝑡𝑜𝑥𝑖𝑐𝑎𝑡𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑎𝑛𝑑 𝑡𝑜𝑥𝑖𝑐—𝑤ℎ𝑒𝑟𝑒 ℎ𝑜𝑙𝑑𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑜𝑛 𝑏𝑒𝑐𝑜𝑚𝑒𝑠 𝑗𝑢𝑠𝑡 𝑎𝑠 𝑝𝑎𝑖𝑛𝑓𝑢𝑙 𝑎𝑠 𝑙𝑒𝑡𝑡𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑔𝑜.
𝘊𝘳𝘪𝘮𝘴𝘰𝘯 𝘚𝘦𝘤𝘳𝘦𝘵𝘴: 𝙄𝙣 𝙖 𝙬𝙤𝙧𝙡𝙙 𝙬𝙝𝙚𝙧𝙚 𝙨𝙝𝙖𝙙𝙤𝙬𝙨 𝙘𝙤𝙣𝙘𝙚𝙖𝙡 𝙖𝙣𝙘𝙞𝙚𝙣𝙩 𝙩𝙧𝙪𝙩𝙝𝙨 𝙖𝙣𝙙 𝙙𝙚𝙨𝙞𝙧𝙚 𝙞𝙣𝙩𝙚𝙧𝙩𝙬𝙞𝙣𝙚𝙨 𝙬𝙞𝙩𝙝 𝙙𝙖𝙣𝙜𝙚𝙧, 𝙔/𝙉 𝙞𝙨 𝙩𝙤𝙧𝙣 𝙗𝙚𝙩𝙬𝙚𝙚𝙣 𝙝𝙚𝙧 𝙮𝙚𝙖𝙧𝙣𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙛𝙤𝙧 𝙖𝙣 𝙞𝙢𝙢𝙤𝙧𝙩𝙖𝙡 𝙡𝙤𝙫𝙚 𝙖𝙣𝙙 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙨𝙩𝙖𝙧𝙠 𝙧𝙚𝙖𝙡𝙞𝙩𝙮 𝙤𝙛 𝙖 𝙛𝙡𝙚𝙚𝙩𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙝𝙪𝙢𝙖𝙣 𝙚𝙭𝙞𝙨𝙩𝙚𝙣𝙘𝙚. 𝘿𝙧𝙖𝙬𝙣 𝙩𝙤 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙘𝙖𝙥𝙩𝙞𝙫𝙖𝙩𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙅𝙞𝙨𝙪𝙣𝙜, 𝙖 𝙫𝙖𝙢𝙥𝙞𝙧𝙚 𝙨𝙝𝙧𝙤𝙪𝙙𝙚𝙙 𝙞𝙣 𝙢𝙮𝙨𝙩𝙚𝙧𝙮, 𝙨𝙝𝙚 𝙙𝙞𝙨𝙘𝙤𝙫𝙚𝙧𝙨 𝙖 𝙛𝙤𝙧𝙗𝙞𝙙𝙙𝙚𝙣 𝙘𝙤𝙣𝙣𝙚𝙘𝙩𝙞𝙤𝙣 𝙩𝙝𝙖𝙩 𝙩𝙧𝙖𝙣𝙨𝙘𝙚𝙣𝙙𝙨 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙗𝙤𝙪𝙣𝙙𝙖𝙧𝙞𝙚𝙨 𝙤𝙛 𝙡𝙞𝙛𝙚 𝙖𝙣𝙙 𝙙𝙚𝙖𝙩𝙝. 𝘼𝙨 𝙩𝙝𝙚𝙞𝙧 𝙗𝙤𝙣𝙙 𝙙𝙚𝙚𝙥𝙚𝙣𝙨 𝙗𝙚𝙣𝙚𝙖𝙩𝙝 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙘𝙡𝙤𝙖𝙠 𝙤𝙛 𝙣𝙞𝙜𝙝𝙩, 𝙔/𝙉 𝙜𝙧𝙖𝙥𝙥𝙡𝙚𝙨 𝙬𝙞𝙩𝙝 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙪𝙡𝙩𝙞𝙢𝙖𝙩𝙚 𝙦𝙪𝙚𝙨𝙩𝙞𝙤𝙣: 𝙬𝙞𝙡𝙡 𝙨𝙝𝙚 𝙨𝙪𝙧𝙧𝙚𝙣𝙙𝙚𝙧 𝙝𝙚𝙧 𝙝𝙪𝙢𝙖𝙣𝙞𝙩𝙮 𝙛𝙤𝙧 𝙖 𝙘𝙝𝙖𝙣𝙘𝙚 𝙖𝙩 𝙚𝙩𝙚𝙧𝙣𝙖𝙡 𝙡𝙤𝙫𝙚, 𝙤𝙧 𝙬𝙞𝙡𝙡 𝙅𝙞𝙨𝙪𝙣𝙜'𝙨 𝙧𝙚𝙛𝙪𝙨𝙖𝙡 𝙩𝙤 𝙩𝙪𝙧𝙣 𝙝𝙚𝙧 𝙠𝙚𝙚𝙥 𝙩𝙝𝙚𝙢 𝙩𝙧𝙖𝙥𝙥𝙚𝙙 𝙞𝙣 𝙖 𝙥𝙖𝙞𝙣𝙛𝙪𝙡 𝙡𝙞𝙢𝙗𝙤?
𝙒𝙝𝙚𝙣 𝙬𝙝𝙞𝙨𝙥𝙚𝙧𝙨 𝙤𝙛 𝙖 𝙙𝙖𝙧𝙠 𝙥𝙧𝙤𝙥𝙝𝙚𝙘𝙮 𝙚𝙢𝙚𝙧𝙜𝙚—𝙤𝙣𝙚 𝙩𝙝𝙖𝙩 𝙘𝙤𝙪𝙡𝙙 𝙘𝙝𝙖𝙣𝙜𝙚 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙛𝙖𝙩𝙚 𝙤𝙛 𝙫𝙖𝙢𝙥𝙞𝙧𝙚𝙨 𝙖𝙣𝙙 𝙢𝙤𝙧𝙩𝙖𝙡𝙨 𝙖𝙡𝙞𝙠𝙚—𝙔/𝙉 𝙧𝙚𝙖𝙡𝙞𝙯𝙚𝙨 𝙩𝙝𝙖𝙩 𝙩𝙝𝙚𝙞𝙧 𝙡𝙤𝙫𝙚 𝙞𝙨 𝙚𝙣𝙩𝙬𝙞𝙣𝙚𝙙 𝙬𝙞𝙩𝙝 𝙨𝙚𝙘𝙧𝙚𝙩𝙨 𝙩𝙝𝙖𝙩 𝙧𝙪𝙣 𝙙𝙚𝙚𝙥𝙚𝙧 𝙩𝙝𝙖𝙣 𝙚𝙞𝙩𝙝𝙚𝙧 𝙤𝙛 𝙩𝙝𝙚𝙢 𝙘𝙤𝙪𝙡𝙙 𝙝𝙖𝙫𝙚 𝙞𝙢𝙖𝙜𝙞𝙣𝙚𝙙. 𝘼𝙨 𝙨𝙝𝙚 𝙙𝙚𝙡𝙫𝙚𝙨 𝙞𝙣𝙩𝙤 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙝𝙚𝙖𝙧𝙩 𝙤𝙛 𝙩𝙝𝙚𝙨𝙚 𝘾𝙧𝙞𝙢𝙨𝙤𝙣 𝙎𝙚𝙘𝙧𝙚𝙩𝙨, 𝙨𝙝𝙚 𝙪𝙣𝙘𝙤𝙫𝙚𝙧𝙨 𝙖 𝙝𝙞𝙙𝙙𝙚𝙣 𝙬𝙤𝙧𝙡𝙙 𝙤𝙛 𝙗𝙚𝙩𝙧𝙖𝙮𝙖𝙡, 𝙖𝙣𝙘𝙞𝙚𝙣𝙩 𝙧𝙞𝙫𝙖𝙡𝙧𝙞𝙚𝙨, 𝙖𝙣𝙙 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙩𝙧𝙪𝙚 𝙘𝙤𝙨𝙩 𝙤𝙛 𝙞𝙢𝙢𝙤𝙧𝙩𝙖𝙡𝙞𝙩𝙮. 𝙒𝙞𝙩𝙝 𝙙𝙖𝙣𝙜𝙚𝙧 𝙡𝙪𝙧𝙠𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙖𝙩 𝙚𝙫𝙚𝙧𝙮 𝙩𝙪𝙧𝙣, 𝙔/𝙉 𝙢𝙪𝙨𝙩 𝙘𝙤𝙣𝙛𝙧𝙤𝙣𝙩 𝙝𝙚𝙧 𝙙𝙚𝙚𝙥𝙚𝙨𝙩 𝙛𝙚𝙖𝙧𝙨 𝙖𝙣𝙙 𝙪𝙣𝙘𝙤𝙫𝙚𝙧 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙨𝙩𝙧𝙚𝙣𝙜𝙩𝙝 𝙬𝙞𝙩𝙝𝙞𝙣 𝙝𝙚𝙧𝙨𝙚𝙡𝙛 𝙩𝙤 𝙛𝙞𝙜𝙝𝙩 𝙛𝙤𝙧 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙡𝙤𝙫𝙚 𝙨𝙝𝙚 𝙘𝙧𝙖𝙫𝙚𝙨.
ᴘᴏʀɴsᴛᴀʀ:𝘏𝘦𝘳 𝘯𝘦𝘹𝘵-𝘥𝘰𝘰𝘳 𝘯𝘦𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘣𝘰𝘳 𝘸𝘢𝘴 𝘢 𝘱𝘰𝘳𝘯𝘴𝘵𝘢𝘳, 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘳𝘺 𝘯𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵, 𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘢𝘯𝘵𝘪𝘤𝘴 𝘱𝘭𝘢𝘺𝘦𝘥 𝘰𝘶𝘵 𝘭𝘪𝘬𝘦 𝘢 𝘭𝘰𝘶𝘥, 𝘶𝘯𝘦𝘯𝘥𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘴𝘩𝘰𝘸 𝘵𝘩𝘳𝘰𝘶𝘨𝘩 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘱𝘢𝘱𝘦𝘳-𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯 𝘸𝘢𝘭𝘭𝘴. 𝘛𝘩𝘦 𝘪𝘯𝘤𝘦𝘴𝘴𝘢𝘯𝘵 𝘮𝘰𝘢𝘯𝘪𝘯𝘨, 𝘭𝘢𝘶𝘨𝘩𝘵𝘦𝘳, 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘣𝘦𝘥 𝘴𝘲𝘶𝘦𝘢𝘬𝘴 𝘨𝘳𝘢𝘵𝘦𝘥 𝘰𝘯 𝘩𝘦𝘳 𝘯𝘦𝘳𝘷𝘦𝘴, 𝘵𝘶𝘳𝘯𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘩𝘦𝘳 𝘲𝘶𝘪𝘦𝘵 𝘢𝘱𝘢𝘳𝘵𝘮𝘦𝘯𝘵 𝘪𝘯𝘵𝘰 𝘢 𝘣𝘢𝘵𝘵𝘭𝘦𝘨𝘳𝘰𝘶𝘯𝘥 𝘰𝘧 𝘧𝘳𝘶𝘴𝘵𝘳𝘢𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯. 𝘚𝘩𝘦 𝘸𝘢𝘴 𝘢𝘭𝘮𝘰𝘴𝘵 𝘢𝘯𝘯𝘰𝘺𝘦𝘥 𝘦𝘯𝘰𝘶𝘨𝘩 𝘵𝘰 𝘤𝘰𝘯𝘧𝘳𝘰𝘯𝘵 𝘩𝘪𝘮, 𝘣𝘶𝘵 𝘮𝘰𝘴𝘵𝘭𝘺, 𝘴𝘩𝘦 𝘫𝘶𝘴𝘵 𝘸𝘢𝘯𝘵𝘦𝘥 𝘱𝘦𝘢𝘤𝘦. 𝘋𝘦𝘴𝘱𝘪𝘵𝘦 𝘩𝘦𝘳 𝘪𝘳𝘳𝘪𝘵𝘢𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯, 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘦 𝘸𝘢𝘴 𝘢 𝘴𝘵𝘳𝘢𝘯𝘨𝘦 𝘧𝘢𝘴𝘤𝘪𝘯𝘢𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯 𝘢𝘣𝘰𝘶𝘵 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘮𝘢𝘯 𝘸𝘩𝘰𝘴𝘦 𝘱𝘳𝘰𝘧𝘦𝘴𝘴𝘪𝘰𝘯 𝘴𝘰 𝘣𝘰𝘭𝘥𝘭𝘺 𝘤𝘰𝘯𝘵𝘳𝘢𝘴𝘵𝘦𝘥 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘩𝘦𝘳 𝘰𝘸𝘯 𝘮𝘶𝘯𝘥𝘢𝘯𝘦 𝘦𝘹𝘪𝘴𝘵𝘦𝘯𝘤𝘦. 𝘚𝘵𝘪𝘭𝘭, 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘤𝘰𝘯𝘴𝘵𝘢𝘯𝘵 𝘯𝘰𝘪𝘴𝘦 𝘮𝘢𝘥𝘦 𝘭𝘪𝘷𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘯𝘦𝘹𝘵 𝘵𝘰 𝘢 𝘱𝘰𝘳𝘯𝘴𝘵𝘢𝘳 𝘧𝘢𝘳 𝘭𝘦𝘴𝘴 𝘨𝘭𝘢𝘮𝘰𝘳𝘰𝘶𝘴 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘯 𝘪𝘵 𝘴𝘰𝘶𝘯𝘥𝘦𝘥, 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘴𝘰𝘮𝘦𝘵𝘪𝘮𝘦𝘴, 𝘴𝘩𝘦 𝘸𝘰𝘯𝘥𝘦𝘳𝘦𝘥 𝘪𝘧 𝘩𝘦 𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘯 𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘭𝘪𝘻𝘦𝘥 𝘩𝘰𝘸 𝘭𝘪𝘵𝘵𝘭𝘦 𝘱𝘳𝘪𝘷𝘢𝘤𝘺 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘣𝘶𝘪𝘭𝘥𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘰𝘧𝘧𝘦𝘳𝘦𝘥—𝘰𝘳 𝘪𝘧 𝘩𝘦 𝘴𝘪𝘮𝘱𝘭𝘺 𝘥𝘪𝘥𝘯’𝘵 𝘤𝘢𝘳𝘦.
𝑆ℎ𝑜𝑟𝑡 𝑆𝑡𝑜𝑟𝑖𝑒𝑠
𝐻𝑎𝑝𝑝𝑦 𝑇𝑟𝑎𝑖𝑙?
𝐻𝑎𝑝𝑝𝑦 𝑇𝑟𝑎𝑖𝑙?
𝐘/𝐧’𝐬 𝐞𝐲𝐞𝐬 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝𝐧’𝐭 𝐩𝐞𝐞𝐥 𝐚𝐰𝐚𝐲 𝐟𝐫𝐨𝐦 𝐅𝐞𝐥𝐢𝐱’𝐬 𝐬𝐰𝐞𝐚𝐭-𝐝𝐫𝐞𝐧𝐜𝐡𝐞𝐝 𝐟𝐫𝐚𝐦𝐞, 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐩𝐲 𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐢𝐥 𝐭𝐞𝐚𝐬𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐚 𝐩𝐚𝐭𝐡 𝐝𝐨𝐰𝐧 𝐭𝐨 𝐮𝐧𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐨𝐫𝐲. 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐩𝐨𝐬𝐭-𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐜𝐞𝐫𝐭 𝐛𝐮𝐳𝐳 𝐡𝐮𝐧𝐠 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐯𝐲, 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐲/𝐧’𝐬 𝐩𝐮𝐥𝐬𝐞 𝐫𝐚𝐜𝐞𝐝 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐦𝐨𝐫𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐧 𝐣𝐮𝐬𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐦𝐮𝐬𝐢𝐜’𝐬 𝐞𝐜𝐡𝐨. 𝐒𝐭𝐞𝐩𝐩𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐢𝐧 𝐜𝐥𝐨𝐬𝐞, 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐫𝐚𝐰 𝐬𝐜𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐨𝐟 𝐅𝐞𝐥𝐢𝐱’𝐬 𝐞𝐟𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐭 𝐡𝐢𝐭 𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐝—𝐚 𝐠𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐭𝐲, 𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐨𝐱𝐢𝐜𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐩𝐮𝐥𝐥.“𝐃𝐚𝐦𝐧, 𝐅𝐞𝐥𝐢𝐱, 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐤𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐞𝐝 𝐢𝐭 𝐮𝐩 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞,” 𝐲/𝐧 𝐬𝐚𝐢𝐝, 𝐯𝐨𝐢𝐜𝐞 𝐡𝐮𝐬𝐤𝐲, 𝐭𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐞𝐝𝐠𝐞. 𝐅𝐞𝐥𝐢𝐱 𝐬𝐦𝐢𝐫𝐤𝐞𝐝, 𝐰𝐢𝐩𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐟𝐚𝐜𝐞, 𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐠𝐚𝐳𝐞 𝐬𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐩 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐭𝐚𝐮𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠. “𝐂𝐚𝐮𝐠𝐡𝐭 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐞𝐲𝐞, 𝐡𝐮𝐡?” 𝐡𝐞 𝐬𝐡𝐨𝐭 𝐛𝐚𝐜𝐤. 𝐘/𝐧’𝐬 𝐥𝐢𝐩𝐬 𝐜𝐮𝐫𝐥𝐞𝐝, 𝐚 𝐦𝐢𝐱 𝐨𝐟 𝐧𝐞𝐫𝐯𝐞𝐬 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐰𝐚𝐧𝐭. “𝐘𝐞𝐚𝐡, 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐈’𝐦 𝐜𝐮𝐫𝐢𝐨𝐮𝐬 𝐚𝐛𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐰𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐢𝐥 𝐥𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐬,” 𝐲/𝐧 𝐬𝐚𝐢𝐝, 𝐧𝐨𝐝𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐨𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐝 𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐰𝐚𝐢𝐬𝐭𝐛𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐚 𝐝𝐚𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐠𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐭.
𝐅𝐞𝐥𝐢𝐱’𝐬 𝐥𝐚𝐮𝐠𝐡 𝐰𝐚𝐬 𝐥𝐨𝐰, 𝐚𝐥𝐦𝐨𝐬𝐭 𝐚 𝐠𝐫𝐨𝐰𝐥. “𝐁𝐨𝐥𝐝, 𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐲𝐚? 𝐦𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 𝐛𝐞 𝐚 𝐰𝐢𝐥𝐝 𝐫𝐢𝐝𝐞.” 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐢𝐧𝐯𝐢𝐭𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 𝐡𝐮𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞, 𝐞𝐥𝐞𝐜𝐭𝐫𝐢𝐜. 𝐘/𝐧’𝐬 𝐟𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐫𝐬 𝐭𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐜𝐡𝐞𝐝, 𝐢𝐭𝐜𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐨 𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐜𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐞, 𝐭𝐨 𝐞𝐱𝐩𝐥𝐨𝐫𝐞 𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐲 𝐢𝐧𝐜𝐡 𝐛𝐞𝐲𝐨𝐧𝐝 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐭𝐞𝐚𝐬𝐞—𝐛𝐚𝐜𝐤𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐞 𝐬𝐡𝐚𝐝𝐨𝐰𝐬 𝐨𝐟𝐟𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐣𝐮𝐬𝐭 𝐞𝐧𝐨𝐮𝐠𝐡 𝐜𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐫 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐚 𝐫𝐞𝐜𝐤𝐥𝐞𝐬𝐬 𝐝𝐢𝐯𝐞 𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐨 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐮𝐧𝐤𝐧𝐨𝐰𝐧. 𝐘/𝐧’𝐬 𝐤𝐧𝐞𝐞𝐬 𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐬𝐞𝐝 𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐨 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐠𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐭𝐲 𝐛𝐚𝐜𝐤𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐞 𝐟𝐥𝐨𝐨𝐫, 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐜𝐨𝐨𝐥 𝐦𝐞𝐭𝐚𝐥 𝐨𝐟 𝐞𝐪𝐮𝐢𝐩𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐜𝐚𝐬𝐞𝐬 𝐚𝐭 𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐛𝐚𝐜𝐤 𝐚𝐬 𝐅𝐞𝐥𝐢𝐱 𝐬𝐭𝐨𝐨𝐝 𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐫 𝐡𝐞𝐫, 𝐚 𝐭𝐨𝐰𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐦𝐢𝐱 𝐨𝐟 𝐩𝐨𝐬𝐭-𝐬𝐡𝐨𝐰 𝐠𝐫𝐢𝐭 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐫𝐚𝐰 𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐮𝐫𝐞.
𝐖𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐰𝐚𝐢𝐬𝐭𝐛𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐬𝐡𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐝 𝐝𝐨𝐰𝐧, 𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐦𝐞𝐦𝐛𝐞𝐫 𝐰𝐚𝐬 𝐟𝐮𝐥𝐥𝐲 𝐛𝐚𝐫𝐞𝐝, 𝐚 𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐞𝐧𝐜𝐞—𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐜𝐤, 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐯𝐲, 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐯𝐞𝐢𝐧𝐞𝐝 𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝐚 𝐝𝐚𝐦𝐧 𝐬𝐜𝐮𝐥𝐩𝐭𝐮𝐫𝐞, 𝐞𝐚𝐜𝐡 𝐫𝐢𝐝𝐠𝐞 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐞 𝐩𝐮𝐥𝐬𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐥𝐢𝐟𝐞. 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐬𝐤𝐢𝐧 𝐰𝐚𝐬 𝐟𝐥𝐮𝐬𝐡𝐞𝐝, 𝐬𝐭𝐫𝐞𝐭𝐜𝐡𝐞𝐝 𝐭𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐫 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐝𝐧𝐞𝐬𝐬, 𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐬𝐞 𝐯𝐞𝐢𝐧𝐬 𝐬𝐧𝐚𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐮𝐩 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐬𝐡𝐚𝐟𝐭 𝐢𝐧 𝐛𝐨𝐥𝐝, 𝐛𝐫𝐚𝐧𝐜𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐩𝐚𝐭𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐧𝐬 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐬𝐜𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐦𝐞𝐝 𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐬𝐢𝐭𝐲. 𝐘/𝐧’𝐬 𝐛𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐡 𝐜𝐚𝐮𝐠𝐡𝐭, 𝐞𝐲𝐞𝐬 𝐥𝐨𝐜𝐤𝐞𝐝 𝐨𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐬𝐡𝐞𝐞𝐫 𝐩𝐫𝐢𝐦𝐚𝐥 𝐛𝐞𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐲 𝐨𝐟 𝐢𝐭, 𝐚 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐭 𝐩𝐨𝐨𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐥𝐨𝐰 𝐢𝐧 𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐜𝐨𝐫𝐞.
“𝐅𝐮𝐜𝐤, 𝐅𝐞𝐥𝐢𝐱, 𝐲𝐨𝐮’𝐫𝐞 𝐮𝐧𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐥,” 𝐬𝐡𝐞 𝐫𝐚𝐬𝐩𝐞𝐝, 𝐯𝐨𝐢𝐜𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐜𝐤 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐧𝐞𝐞𝐝. 𝐇𝐞𝐫 𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐬 𝐬𝐥𝐢𝐝 𝐮𝐩 𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐬 𝐟𝐢𝐫𝐬𝐭, 𝐟𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐫𝐬 𝐝𝐢𝐠𝐠𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐨 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐝𝐚𝐦𝐩, 𝐦𝐮𝐬𝐜𝐥𝐞𝐝 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐭 𝐨𝐟 𝐡𝐢𝐦, 𝐟𝐞𝐞𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐭𝐫𝐞𝐦𝐨𝐫 𝐨𝐟 𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐢𝐧𝐭. 𝐋𝐢𝐩𝐬 𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐞𝐝, 𝐲/𝐧 𝐥𝐞𝐚𝐧𝐞𝐝 𝐢𝐧 𝐬𝐥𝐨𝐰, 𝐬𝐚𝐯𝐨𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐦𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐛𝐞𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐞 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐚𝐜𝐭—𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐧 𝐭𝐨𝐨𝐤 𝐡𝐢𝐦 𝐢𝐧, 𝐭𝐨𝐧𝐠𝐮𝐞 𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐜𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐮𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐬𝐢𝐝𝐞 𝐚𝐥𝐨𝐧𝐠 𝐚 𝐩𝐫𝐨𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐯𝐞𝐢𝐧, 𝐭𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐬𝐚𝐥𝐭 𝐨𝐟 𝐬𝐰𝐞𝐚𝐭 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐬𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐝𝐞𝐞𝐩𝐞𝐫, 𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐞𝐫. 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐭𝐞𝐱𝐭𝐮𝐫𝐞 𝐰𝐚𝐬 𝐦𝐚𝐝𝐝𝐞𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠, 𝐬𝐦𝐨𝐨𝐭𝐡 𝐲𝐞𝐭 𝐫𝐢𝐛𝐛𝐞𝐝 𝐛𝐲 𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐬𝐞 𝐩𝐮𝐥𝐬𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐞𝐬, 𝐞𝐚𝐜𝐡 𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐚 𝐣𝐨𝐥𝐭 𝐚𝐠𝐚𝐢𝐧𝐬𝐭 𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐦𝐨𝐮𝐭𝐡 𝐚𝐬 𝐬𝐡𝐞 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐤𝐞𝐝 𝐝𝐞𝐞𝐩𝐞𝐫, 𝐥𝐢𝐩𝐬 𝐬𝐭𝐫𝐞𝐭𝐜𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐨 𝐚𝐜𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐦𝐨𝐝𝐚𝐭𝐞 𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐠𝐢𝐫𝐭𝐡. 𝐅𝐞𝐥𝐢𝐱 𝐡𝐢𝐬𝐬𝐞𝐝 𝐚𝐛𝐨𝐯𝐞, 𝐚 𝐬𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐩 𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐚𝐤𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐛𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐡, 𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐟𝐢𝐧𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐲/𝐧’𝐬 𝐡𝐚𝐢𝐫, 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐠𝐮𝐢𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐛𝐮𝐭 𝐠𝐫𝐢𝐩𝐩𝐢𝐧𝐠, 𝐚 𝐬𝐢𝐥𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐩𝐥𝐞𝐚 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐦𝐨𝐫𝐞.
𝐇𝐞𝐫 𝐩𝐚𝐜𝐞 𝐪𝐮𝐢𝐜𝐤𝐞𝐧𝐞𝐝, 𝐡𝐨𝐥𝐥𝐨𝐰𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐜𝐡𝐞𝐞𝐤𝐬, 𝐟𝐞𝐞𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐲 𝐭𝐡𝐫𝐨𝐛 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐫𝐢𝐝𝐠𝐞 𝐚𝐬 𝐬𝐡𝐞 𝐦𝐚𝐩𝐩𝐞𝐝 𝐡𝐢𝐦 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐫𝐞𝐥𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐥𝐞𝐬𝐬 𝐟𝐨𝐜𝐮𝐬, 𝐝𝐫𝐢𝐯𝐞𝐧 𝐛𝐲 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐰𝐞𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 𝐨𝐟 𝐡𝐢𝐦 𝐟𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐬𝐞𝐧𝐬𝐞𝐬. 𝐇𝐢𝐬 𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐬 𝐠𝐫𝐢𝐩𝐩𝐞𝐝 𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐡𝐢𝐩𝐬 𝐭𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭𝐞𝐫, 𝐦𝐚𝐭𝐜𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐫𝐡𝐲𝐭𝐡𝐦, 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐢𝐫 𝐛𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐡𝐬 𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐢𝐧 𝐚 𝐝𝐚𝐧𝐜𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐝𝐞𝐬𝐩𝐞𝐫𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐝𝐞𝐬𝐢𝐫𝐞. 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐭𝐞𝐱𝐭𝐮𝐫𝐞 𝐰𝐚𝐬 𝐦𝐚𝐝𝐝𝐞𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠, 𝐬𝐦𝐨𝐨𝐭𝐡 𝐲𝐞𝐭 𝐫𝐢𝐛𝐛𝐞𝐝 𝐛𝐲 𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐬𝐞 𝐩𝐮𝐥𝐬𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐞𝐬, 𝐞𝐚𝐜𝐡 𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐚 𝐣𝐨𝐥𝐭 𝐚𝐠𝐚𝐢𝐧𝐬𝐭 𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐬𝐞𝐧𝐬𝐢𝐭𝐢𝐯𝐞 𝐟𝐥𝐞𝐬𝐡.
𝐘𝐞𝐭 𝐢𝐭 𝐰𝐚𝐬 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐣𝐨𝐥𝐭𝐬, 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐝𝐞𝐞𝐩, 𝐫𝐞𝐥𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐥𝐞𝐬𝐬 𝐭𝐡𝐫𝐮𝐬𝐭𝐬, 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐡𝐚𝐝 𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐦𝐨𝐮𝐭𝐡 𝐚𝐠𝐚𝐩𝐞, 𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐬𝐞𝐧𝐬𝐞𝐬 𝐬𝐭𝐫𝐞𝐭𝐜𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐨 𝐚𝐜𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐦𝐨𝐝𝐚𝐭𝐞 𝐡𝐢𝐦. 𝐇𝐢𝐬 𝐦𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐬 𝐛𝐞𝐜𝐚𝐦𝐞 𝐮𝐫𝐠𝐞𝐧𝐭, 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐬𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐞𝐝𝐠𝐞, 𝐞𝐚𝐜𝐡 𝐭𝐡𝐫𝐮𝐬𝐭 𝐩𝐮𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐡𝐢𝐦 𝐜𝐥𝐨𝐬𝐞𝐫 𝐭𝐨 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐜𝐢𝐩𝐢𝐜𝐞. 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐫𝐨𝐨𝐦 𝐬𝐩𝐮𝐧, 𝐜𝐨𝐥𝐨𝐫𝐬 𝐛𝐥𝐮𝐫𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐨 𝐚 𝐤𝐚𝐥𝐞𝐢𝐝𝐨𝐬𝐜𝐨𝐩𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐬𝐞𝐧𝐬𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧, 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐡𝐞 𝐟𝐞𝐥𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐟𝐚𝐦𝐢𝐥𝐢𝐚𝐫 𝐭𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐢𝐧 𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐜𝐨𝐫𝐞, 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐢𝐧𝐞𝐯𝐢𝐭𝐚𝐛𝐥𝐞 𝐫𝐮𝐬𝐡 𝐨𝐟 𝐩𝐥𝐞𝐚𝐬𝐮𝐫𝐞 𝐛𝐮𝐢𝐥𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐞𝐚𝐜𝐡 𝐭𝐡𝐫𝐮𝐬𝐭. 𝐖𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐚 𝐟𝐢𝐧𝐚𝐥, 𝐝𝐞𝐞𝐩 𝐭𝐡𝐫𝐮𝐬𝐭, 𝐡𝐞 𝐬𝐮𝐫𝐫𝐞𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐞𝐝, 𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐫𝐞𝐥𝐞𝐚𝐬𝐞 𝐩𝐮𝐥𝐬𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐡𝐫𝐨𝐮𝐠𝐡 𝐡𝐢𝐦, 𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐧𝐚𝐦𝐞 𝐚 𝐫𝐚𝐠𝐠𝐞𝐝 𝐰𝐡𝐢𝐬𝐩𝐞𝐫 𝐨𝐧 𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐥𝐢𝐩𝐬.
𝐀𝐬 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐰𝐚𝐯𝐞𝐬 𝐨𝐟 𝐩𝐥𝐞𝐚𝐬𝐮𝐫𝐞 𝐬𝐮𝐛𝐬𝐢𝐝𝐞𝐝, 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐫𝐨𝐨𝐦 𝐬𝐥𝐨𝐰𝐥𝐲 𝐜𝐚𝐦𝐞 𝐛𝐚𝐜𝐤 𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐨 𝐟𝐨𝐜𝐮𝐬, 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐥𝐢𝐭𝐲 𝐨𝐟 𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐬𝐮𝐫𝐫𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 𝐫𝐞𝐭𝐮𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠. 𝐒𝐡𝐞 𝐥𝐨𝐨𝐤𝐞𝐝 𝐮𝐩 𝐚𝐭 𝐡𝐢𝐦, 𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐞𝐲𝐞𝐬 𝐬𝐨𝐟𝐭 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭, 𝐚 𝐬𝐦𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐬𝐦𝐢𝐥𝐞 𝐩𝐥𝐚𝐲𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐨𝐧 𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐥𝐢𝐩𝐬. 𝐇𝐞 𝐛𝐫𝐮𝐬𝐡𝐞𝐝 𝐚 𝐬𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐨𝐟 𝐡𝐚𝐢𝐫 𝐟𝐫𝐨𝐦 𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐟𝐚𝐜𝐞, 𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐜𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐣𝐚𝐰 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐚 𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫 𝐭𝐨𝐮𝐜𝐡. "𝐈 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮," 𝐡𝐞 𝐦𝐮𝐫𝐦𝐮𝐫𝐞𝐝. 𝐒𝐡𝐞 𝐥𝐞𝐚𝐧𝐞𝐝 𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐨 𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐭𝐨𝐮𝐜𝐡, 𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐞𝐲𝐞𝐬 𝐧𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫 𝐥𝐞𝐚𝐯𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐡𝐢𝐬, 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐰𝐡𝐢𝐬𝐩𝐞𝐫𝐞𝐝 𝐛𝐚𝐜𝐤, "𝐈 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐭𝐨𝐨."
thinking about idol!skz making their cute little stay sign an NDA
wc» 4k (APPARENTLY???)
cw» fem & STAY!reader, orgy (9), multiple rounds for reader but all of skz goes once each, both mean & soft dom skz, fingering/finger fucking, recording with a phone, 1 protected & 2 unprotected p in v, oral (f briefly & m fully receiving), face fucking, facial, light cum play?
an» i reread this like 10 times but i still hate it idk why lol, but anyways pls note that im using their STAGE names, this is really unrealistic imo but im indulging for once in my writing career bc im a weak, weak woman
shes so excited and has the biggest smile on her face, despite the fact that she knows there's mostly dirty stuff in the agreement. their manager stands nearby in the conference room, watching over every move from everyone. 'just in case'
and little does she know that the second she's done signing, they agreed to show her just why they're known for being one of, if not THE rowdiest idol group ever.
and then that sweet little smile pops up again and she pushes the signed form towards their manager. they wait patiently for a confirmation before even making the tiniest move. once they witness a nod and a bow in farewell from their manager, they smile to themselves.